Sun high in the water colored sky, and a nice breeze in the air, Malan watched Edith stare, mouth slightly agape at the sight of the crater. The pups were the same, their eyes drawn to the anomaly in the way only ascended beings were.

While there had been much upheaval during the end times, the lands torn apart and great cities sundered. The worst of it was hidden under the blankets of life. Only the crater was too great and intelligently made for the passage of time to hide its existence. The bowl shaped hole went on for miles in every direction, and so far, the steep cliff had kept out any mortals from settling the lands below.

Well, foreign mortals anyways. Bronduff, after repeated sending’s from Derrin, so the formula was performed correctly, had carved a thin path that led down into the crater. The passage had been concealed with the use of stone and dirt. Only those with the means to move it to their will, would have the means to open up the way again. Said path was close, only a few minutes of walking was left, but the spectacle before them had halted their advance.

‘Wait till Wonder’s city has returned, when that crater is filled with miraculous works.’ He whispered into her mind and displayed a vision of it. He showed Aronta in its past glory, the soring constructs of stone woven with runes of power. The towering glass arts, which casted the city in dazzling colors. The lush gardens, lined with polished marble canals. He even showed her the floating wonders that allowed mortals to safely travel through the air.

Her eyes were wide, and mind struggling to comprehend what she was being shown. Either way, she wanted it, craved it, desired the power of creation to the point of a sick rot. He’d seen it in many mortals during his time as a fallen god, those with wicked hearts and wicked intentions.

Thankfully, now that they were at the crater, almost safe within the bounds of a sheltered place. He could begin working on her mind, mending the mistakes causing the issue.

He’d put in a great deal of his attention and time on studying her during their journey together. Outlining the best means to fix the brains of his Dargown. The prime sight of rot, which came from the part of the mind confined to domination, had earned its place as the first to be removed.

It chilled his heart to see, to know, that the Dargown outside his influence would be warped mirrors, Dargown in appearance only. Their minds, and later souls, wicked and unaligned to the open ways of Wonder he planned to birth.

Though their intelligence, and inclinations to understand would have them reach high, and if given time, shape the realm as arcane weavers. Theirs would be the closed Wonder, the one that couldn’t spread, the one first born, and first to die by the might of a reacting realm.

The chillness only worsened at the thought of the gods those warped Dargown would birth, those of Dainon, with their diluted sense of importance. They would be of order, they would chain all, delight in stagnating those below them. They would halt progress and doom the realm as Wargain had with his championing of ignorance.

He shook the sight from his mind, focused on Edith and pulled on her psyche. With gentle intentions he guided her awareness to an area just out of view.

Reluctantly she pulled her gaze from the crater, and guided the pups to the place he willed her to be.

From first appearances there was nothing special, just a spot of land covered as thickly in shade and life as any other. However, after an act from him, the rock peeled away, and a tunnel with a well-built stair case was revealed. By the quality of it, since Bronduff was more for functionality, Ryan must have fixed whatever roughness there had been.

Edith stared into the entrance, eyes squinting as pups moved forward and gazed into the dark.

‘Ah yes, they can’t see,’ he thought enacting a second miracle. An orb of light appeared at the entrance, illuminating the path.

‘Follow the light,’ he sent to her. ‘This path will guide you to the bottom of the crater, once there, you will be safe from other gods not aligned with me.’

She bowed her head and placed her hands over her heart, a form of prayer she showed to him often. Afterward she embarked, carefully going down the steps and helping the pups. The moment all were in the tunnel he re-ceiled the entrance and followed, his heart abound with joy that the journey was almost done.

He took the moment, knowing nothing would happen to his followers now, to check in with the others.

‘I’m here,’ he sent to the six gods present in the crater. He was the last to arrive with a following, everyone else had already setup a place for their mortals.

He received greetings back, along with reports.

They had followed his instructions, with each race placed in a corner far away from the others. Afterward, Derrin, Axel, and Ryan had begun making a shrine at the center. From there smooth stone paths had branched out leading to the camps. Once the work was done, even the most simplistic of mortals would know how to get to the craters heart through the dense forest.

So far, none of the mortals had engaged each other in battle, since all had been informed that every ascended beast in the crater was a follower of Wonder. Also, the Wonderbringers had kept a heavy eye on the mortals habits, making sure none came in contact with another race. Especially the Heon and Dargown, they were the most likely to spill blood.

‘Blessed be the Celestials you’re here,’ Derrin sent both enthused and begging. ‘These Dargown aren’t getting any better and it’s becoming an aching chill keeping them from acting out.’

Malan’s ears flinched at the sending, and fur shifted in embarrassment. The thought of his people as the cause for problems, it wasn’t pleasant.

‘What are they trying to do?’ He sent back, and was reluctant to receive the answer.

‘They haven’t done anything yet,’ Derrin began. ‘But their talks are constant and adamant. They want to go out and civilize the other tribes.’ Derrin added. ‘Let the lesser mortals know who sits on top, and the ones truly chosen as the followers of Wonder.’

Malan groaned, and yet deep down he wasn’t surprised. His time with Dainon had removed any delusions that the warped Dargown weren’t going to be a problem.

‘A portion of myself is heading over,’ Malan sent back, and split off a shard, the other him blinking out of existence. It traveled through the link, appearing within the camp of Derrin’s Dargown.

Small dwellings made of perfectly cut and polished stone, adorned with windows of colored glass, entered his view.

A quick glance showed the houses centered around a shrine. It was made of various metals, and ordained with godly runes that to the mortals would be to detailed and elaborate to understand. Two godly sigils were woven into a pair of metal Dargown sculptures. Derrin and Axel, its seemed their sect would be joined, a religion of father and son.

The sight had Malan’s brows rise and cast a look at Derrin, since the latter hadn’t been a skilled sculptor before.

Derrin smiled, and sent. ‘I spent many decades practicing in my personal afterlife before the new session began.’

Malan nodded in understanding as he returned his attention to the shrine and those around it. Dargown, each sitting in meditation on plush cushions, appeared tranquil. From the sight one wouldn’t expect the mortals to be of the violent and conquering breed. While a little bulkier than Dargown of the past, they still resembled them so closely.

“Don’t be fooled,” Derrin said nearing him. “They’re only this quiet during the communal meditation and offering to us.”

“And when they’re sleeping,” Axel added, the son walking around the mortals inspecting them.

Derrin nodded. “And that,” then shook his head. “Everything else its always, let’s go show those lessers whose chosen, or we can’t have lesser learn divine arcane.” Derrin pulled at his ears. “As if any of that matters, mastery is key, and Dargown are still superior when it comes to learning, they don’t need to fight with anyone.”

“True,” Malan voiced as he approached, his healer eyes already peering deep into the bodies. The brains were like Edith and the pups, the same over growths that were causing the unwanted traits.

He sent visions of it to his fellow Dargownian gods, pointing out what needed to be done. Derrin shook his head, his face marred with anguish. “How long will it take to undo this?”

“It depends on the power I have,” Malan answered. “If we were back before the reset, I could undo this now.” It would have been delicate work doing it all at once, but he would have succeeded. “How I am now,” he shrugged as he tried forming a number. “At least a decade,” he surmised. He was sure by then any traces of this foul change would be corrected.

Derrin groaned at the answer as he pulled at his face and snout. “That long with these troublemakers.”

“Is it really that difficult?” Axel asked while he peered closer at the mortals. “Something so small able to cause gods this kind of trouble.”

“Even during my many centuries of existence,” Malan began. “There has only been a handful of deities able to perfectly shape their followers. To craft life that can exist on its own, without the constant effort of the gods behind them.”

That was one of the reasons why he clung so tightly to his healing ways, which allowed him to see and fix corrupted flesh.

Joined with his centuries of self-study and experimentation, which turned him into a skilled Lifeweaver. That part of him was a necessary skill to have in order for Wonder to spread swiftly, and its followers to survive the many trials of life.

“Of us few,” he added. “Only I and Lisoe made a trade of improving flesh, of removing flaws.” However, Lisoe had saved such acts for her chosen few, and pet beasts. It had only been him to raise mortals into half gods, and in doing so be labeled as a maker of monsters.

He moved closer to the mortals who remained perfectly still. “Even then, it was never easy, creation itself greatly despises that I can fix the mortals, it wants the flaws to remain. And,” he voiced. “What I do is even more hated as the changes I make are deeply bound, their kin will have the fixes as well, my work passed down generation by generation forever.”

The act tripled the price as creation fought him. Healing was fine in its eyes, but change? Improvement beyond the set bounds?

No.

Axel hummed. “I know it might be short sighted, but maybe, just fix them personally for now. I don’t know if we can keep them from acting out for a decade, the space dividing races is helping, but that won’t last forever.”

Malan sighed, he disliked temporary fixes, but from the look on Axel’s face, and Derrin not countering the request, he knew it was the best course to take.

“I suppose,” he said. “But I still can’t do it all at once, the brain is sensitive, too much change causes complications.” He studied the mortals, the spots needing his attention. “I don’t have the reserves to risk that, but I can make them better, in a matter of weeks they should resemble true Dargown.”

Derrin sighed loudly, wrapped him into a side hug before fully embracing him. “Thank you, thank you,” the scholar god chanted. “They were tolerable on the trip here, interested in learning the ways of creation, but the moment they were informed of other races around, it’s been the only thing on their minds.”

“It’s going to be a very chaotic session,” Malan said rubbing Derrin’s back. “If most of the races can’t at least tolerate each other, war will stifle upliftment.”

“It will be the Orders all over again, or something worse.” Malan finished and pulled away.

‘Much worse,’ Malan thought quietly to himself. the Kolune of the past, while belligerent, still tolerated other races. the Dargown of now seemed more inclined to kill them off, or enslave to a degree that the Kolune of before had never induced. As for the Heon, if they kept any of the others at all it would be as a food source.

Derrin grabbed his hand and lightly squeezed, motioning to the mortals. “Can you begin now? Please, I’ll cover all the costs, I have some reserves.”

“I’ll need their consent,” Malan said.

Doubly so since the Dargown in front of him weren’t of his religion. While Derrin and him were in the same pantheon, these mortals had no concept of him yet, given they hadn’t been informed of his existence. Any attempt from him to change their minds would be instantly felt and rebuked. He could force it of course, but the price of the changes would be drastically increased as the mortals attempted to resist, bestowing creation even further claim to counter him.

“Of course!” Derrin shouted. “Silly me,” the god of knowledge closed his eyes and focused on the mortals.

They gasped, and opened their eyes.

Visions took them, the moment passing in silence as mortals stared up into the forest covering with unblinking eyes, their minds elsewhere as Derrin spoke with them.

When he was done, and the mortals regained their awareness, Derrin nodded at him eagerly, motioning to the followers who looked about concerned, but still seated.

Malan approached as he received Devotion from Derrin.

He had his own, a steady flow coming from new gods up north, so he could help cover the costs if required. But it wasn’t needed, not for the temporary measures requested from him.

Reaching out, he carefully pressed upon the minds, and began reshaping them slowly. The mortals shivered and clasped their heads. It would have been better if they had been asleep, but no matter, his hands were steady and well-practiced, the work passed without incident.

The essence of his being screamed to continue, to made the work permanent. But he held it back, did only what was feasible at the moment.

When he finished, it did not come with the usual feeling of accomplishment. It was more of a low buzz, followed with an itchiness in his hands, the desire, almost need, to start again.

“They should be less obsessed now about the other mortals,” he voiced to the others. Axel looked at them closely, his rune filled eyes trying to understand the work, but like his father, the god struggled with the task. “I focused mostly on the part causing the need to dominate. So their belligerence won’t be changed, nor their heighten dislike of other species. And,” he stressed this point. “None of their pups will inherit this, they will be as their parents were before my miracles.”

All of them gazed at the women in turn, who were in various states of pregnancy.

“I suppose it’s not wise to mess with the children while they’re still developing in the womb?” Axel asked.

“No,” Malan answered. “No it is not.”

The creation of life was a complex and beautiful art, even the smallest of changes caused cascading effects, sometimes leading to boons, but normally just crippling ailments. Again, he could have worked them like clay, if he had the Devotion to suppress creation, but he did not. Better to spread the cost out with the use of time, little changes building into lasting effects, rather than pushing his luck.

“Oh well,” Derrin voiced cheerfully. “That can wait later, we’re free son, we can finally focus on training them.”

“Their full treatment will take weeks,” Malan reminded. “And they’ll still have the same thoughts as before, they just won’t be as desiring.”

Derrin shrugged. “As long as it’s enough to get them to focus on what’s important, I’ll be happy.” The god of arcane gazed at their people, longing in his magical eyes. He sighed before voicing. “Why is it our people always seem to be hindered?” The question was said to no one, merely an open complaint.

“Balance, Derrin, remember the game. If our people had intelligence, and supreme insight to the arcane without any draw backs. Some might say it would be unfair.”

Derrin scoffed. “Balance, tell that to the Heon, have you seen them yet?” The intention carried in the words was aimed at those within the crater

Malan shook his head. “But I will, they need mental scaping just as much as our people do.”

“Make them docile, if you can,” Axel said.

“It’s unfair Malan, unfair I say, their giving birth to fourteen little buns at a time, and their maturing faster too.” Derrin pulled at his ears. “None of the others will be able to keep up with that, not even the Verm.”

Malan breathed deep, hands combing through his mane. At such numbers it would be a fight to imprint his changes on them. Selective breeding would be a must, focus on a few, and have them breed more than the rest.

“There will be consequences to these boons bestowed them,” he voiced. “Ailments that will offset their gains, such as their short and weak stature.” Which likely counted in the Heons favor, a reason for their numbers being allowed to bloom so high in the first place.

“It was fine when they were meek, uninterested in killing and conquest,” Derrin said. “But with how they are now, it doesn’t matter if their weak and small, they’re going to drown the realm in numbers, overwhelm the other races.”

“If that’s the case,” he spoke. “Then we should focus on gathering more of them.”

They both looked at him appalled, that wasn’t the way they had been thinking, their minds were set on the Dargown alone. On how that one race could thrive, and win out against all the others.

“Numbers,” he said kindly. “Is all that matters in the end, I, and our people learned that the hard way.” He looked at the mortals, those with the beliefs that they were superior. In some fields that was true, but in others it was not. “The Dargown will never be able to compete through the ways of breeding. So it’s best for all of us not to focus on it. Our people will be the thinkers and leaders, those at the top who will help keep our religion uniform.”

Derrin remained silent, he didn’t like the words given, but understood the wisdom in them. Axel however, was less inclined to accept the safest path open to their people.

“You claim to be able to modify life, to better it,” the youngest of them said. “Can’t you make it that the Dargown give birth to larger litters, and just as fast as the Heon, cant you-

“Make them perfect,” Malan finished. Axel nodded and awaited an answer.

He shrugged. “Of course, I did so once. I made a select few superior to all the other races.”

After a certain threshold had been met, Creation had fought him viciously with every further improvement. The cost of his work had quadrupled, and then went beyond that. With every additional boon he’d added, Creation grew more furious. The rage and pressure against him had heightened to crushing levels, because, what it truly hated. Were all of his improvements could be passed down to future generations.

But he’d won, beat Creation into submission, for he couldn’t lose, he’d had a Source core then, power unending.

“Given enough time they could have taken the realm, all knew it, one look at them was proof enough. It terrified the gods against me, and the mortals who saw how inferior they were to my creations. It made all the races band together even tighter. When I fell, all my work was undone, they hunted down every last ascended Dargown.”

They both stared at him intrigued, rather than wary. “I could keep improving the Dargown, remove their every flaw.” It would take so long to achieve though, without the core. “And in doing so, make them the envy of all others, paint a giant target on their backs as everyone with half a brain would plan to exterminate them out of self-preservation.”

The Father and son glanced at each other, his words only half reaching. In other matters they would have taken his wisdom with open arms, but this was personal, he understood, he felt it to. The desire for his people, his race to achieve greatness.

“My boy isn’t asking for perfection Malan, just that our people have a better chance at keeping pace with the other races.” Derrin voiced calmly, but he was rubbing his hands together, he wanted this just as much as his son.

“In the future,” Malan offered. “When we have the Devotion to spare and the Heon, at least ours, have been made civil, then I will do as you request.” While he wanted to free his people of their forced flaws, the Heon were a more pressing concern.

Derrin nodded eagerly, smile wide, while his son showed a mild one, one of triumph.

A touch of cold ebbed from Malan’s heart, the boy hadn’t taken his words, didn’t accept the fate that would befall their people again. Inwardly he sighed, he didn’t blame Axel, the youth was much as he was, back before everything went wrong. Before his beliefs had been tested by reality and been thoroughly shattered.

“Are you going to see Foy then?” Derrin asked, to which Malan nodded.

“I must begin healing them before their population gets away from us.”

“Celestials help us if that happens,” Axel mumbled, while he returned to inspecting the mortals.

‘Celestials help us all,’ Malan thought to himself, while he could fix those within the crater, his mind turned to all those out in the realm. ‘This will be their session.’ There was no changing that, the course was set, none would be able to keep pace with such a fertile and hostile race. The opening ages of this game would be theirs to rule, only when enlightened societies, with arcane weavers prominent, would the other races gain the chance to counter the hordes of violent Hairs.

‘If there’s any left,’ he thought as he bowed to his fellow Dargown.

He sent a request to Foy, wishing to speak and see how her followers were fairing.

Her rich laughter echoed through the link. ‘Sure, come on over, it will be nice to have some company to watch the show.’

He blinked, leaving the Dargown, and appearing next to Foy within the den of her people. Like the former, the village was being constructed with stone, though the dwellings were domed and half underground.

One look around had his hairs raise and Foy laughing again.

“Any time there bored,” Foy spoke and waved a hand about. “Or can think of any excuse, they start fucking.” Her grin was ear to ear, and she began to lightly elbow him in the side. “And here I thought the Heon before were loose, these new guys make us past versions appear modest.”

Malan began rubbing his nose. “Oh Celestials,” he mumbled.

“It’s not that bad,” Foy replied, motioning to the open orgy taking place. “Well... ok maybe it is.” She laughed loud; a ting of nervousness held within. “I’m not sure how I’m going to keep them in control, or fed, suckers sure can eat for their size.”

Malan began to rub his eyes next, the urge to pull at his ears growing stronger. Foy began patting his hip, a mock attempt to consul him. Others would have reached for his shoulders, but given her height, leveled with his knees, she couldn’t. “Not right now of course, but in a couple months, I think. Gods have you seen how many buns come out of the lasses now, its ridiculous.”

“I have been informed,” Malan said with a heavy sigh. “Derrin and Axel, are-

“Oh let me guess,” Foy interrupted. “Are hurt that the Dargown aren’t getting their second chance at supremacy, and pestering you to somehow change that.” She raised her brows in question, eager to know how close she was to the truth.

“On the mark,” Malan replied. “I told them I would try, but,” he waved to the act of depravity taking place. “These kinds of situations and the lack of Devotion to properly fix them, has limited my options. I have chosen a long-term approach to undo Creation’s wrongful bestowing of flaws.”

“They’ll keep pestering you,” Foy added. “For a long time, it was all Derrin talked about when we were together in our own little paradise. He had big dreams, talk for days about how great the realm would be with Dargown in charge, and the culture of Aronta at the forefront. For things to be opposite of his hopes,” she shrugged. “I know its grating to my hubby, especially Axel. He keeps quiet most of the time, but he’s just as passionate about Dargown leading the realm for once, rather than being a race of slaves and vagabonds.”

“The Dargown will have their place,” Malan said softly. “But like before on this continent, they will not be the prominent people.”

“Yeah,” Foy voiced mirthfully. “Can’t keep up with this.” Every woman in the bundle of bodies were already pregnant. the act taking place was unnecessary, and should have been obvious, since most of their stomachs were round. A deeper look within them showed dozens and dozens of little infants developing.

“Yes, no one will be able to keep up with this,” Malan said. “Which is why I come to you offering the most support that I can provide. The Heon are the key to dominance, but their view of the other races and aggression has to be curtailed.”

“You would never guess it by watching them with their own,” Foy spoke. “They’re very loving to each other, though they do get really rough at times. Its only when talks about the other races start, that the hate comes out. Or uncaringness, all of my followers, before I began hammering it in their heads otherwise. Didn’t even see the others as ascended, just beasts that walked on two legs and were more difficult to ambush.”

“A problematic mixture,” Malan said as he studied their brains, and made note of the areas that needed to be changed. “When the Heon win out, rather than taking slaves, they might instead just treat the defeated as animal stock, once the concept of animal farms has taken root.”

And before that, every tribe taken by Heon would be butchered to the last. If left to their own devices, the continent could become devoid of all species save for the Heon themselves. A land of aggressive Hairs breeding like weeds, and giving birth to gods of destruction.

“It’s also out of fear,” Foy added, regaining his attention.

“Fear?”

“It’s something they complain about, the size of their prey and the fact alone they don’t stand much of a chance. My followers are terrified of being alone, split from the group. So much that when they do travel out, it’s always a group of four, never less than that.” She gazed at the group with pity in her eyes. “Most of the time the talks about the other tribes, eradicating them, is at its core about making themselves feel safe.”

“Which they have been informed they cannot, correct?” Malan asked, and Foy smiled,

“They have, and I had to be very heavy handed. I was forced to manifest and tell them with words rather than mental talk. Afterward,” she gestured to the groups of moaning Heon. “They’ve been doing this most of the time. Preparing,” she added. “For when they can, or have to defend themselves.”

“A defense mechanism,” Malan thought aloud. “That’s even worse.” The Heon were purposefully increasing their population, rather than what he’d originally thought as them merely following their primal urges. “If all the tribes of Heon out there are doing the same, they’re going to overtake this continent before the other races have a chance to counter them.”

Foy smiled wide. “I think that’s the point, though they’re not thinking in the grand view you are, just locally. Besides, it’s not going to be as overwhelming as you might think.” She fell silent, the act causing Malan to look at her, again he saw pity.

“From what I’ve heard, during my time gathering these miscreants, is that the Heon don’t live long. They speak as if being four years old is some grand feat, an ancient figured to be awed by and seek Knowledge from.”

“Four years,” Malan spoke aghast. In the session before, the average life span for all races was ten, or up to fifteen, but that was because of a healthy and unphysical life style.

“That,” Foy continued. “And their learning capability plummets after three months of life, once a year passes it’s like trying to mill stone, it can be done, but it takes a lot of labor.”

Malan’s unease, which had been growing continually worse during their talk, instantly diminished.

‘Balance,’ echoed the word in his mind.

No matter how quick they multiplied, due to these hindrances, the Heon would never advance into a sophisticated people. They would stay tribal, for the most part, a boon and curse. Primal gods, with their simple purposes and goals, would remain a constant presence within the session, unless all of the Heon were uplifted in one form or another.

They would still be a threat to, simple or not, Devotion is Devotion. While their abilities to use it would be minor, they would be able to unleash powerful torrents of it. The likes of Irame would be a constant threat, a feared entity, that those of culture would pray wouldn’t reappear.

Malan hummed, the more he thought on the facts presented, the less thrilling they were to him.

‘The Heon are more attuned with being agents of chaos rather than Wonder.’ They would slow progress, be a constant threat pressuring civilization, rather than giving it the room to grow and thrive. They would be a drain on resources, forcing all to remain focused on pursuits of war and defense, rather than invention and understanding.

“This is worse,” he concluded.

“Care to share your thoughts?” Foy playfully asked, but he answered and sent the problems he foresaw. “Oh,” she replied after, smile dimming. “Figures, the one time my race gets to be in charge, its only when their bumkins who will be swallowed whole by the Endbringers.”

“As long as our culture and people are able to grow, we’ll be able to fix this,” Malan said.

With enough time to advance, and build dwellings to confound the savages, citadels of safety hidden deep within stone. Then even if the worst was to come, savage Heon gods ruling over a people unable to advance. Wonder would bloom, easily if the midpoint of the session was as violent as it had been last time.

“So, what is it you’re going to do to my miscreants?” Foy asked.

“We don’t have the resources to fix them all,” he stated. “I will focus on a few, begin lessening this overly aggressive flaw, but not remove it. We need Heon to hold back their savage brothers beyond the crater. After that I’ll focus on removing their learning disability.”

Foy hummed pleased. “By all means, I’ll help you too, we need to get their killing urges settled,” she pointed at them. “Because with how they’re going, confined or not, they’re going to come in contact with the other races eventually.”

“Do you have any mortals that you would prefer to receive my healing? Or shall I choose at random?” With how the Hairs were acting, his changes would be passed down no matter who he picked.

“I have a few in mind.” She answered and bestowed him with the details of her chosen, a mix of women and males. It was followed up with the facts that these individuals were the most sought after, and the tribe’s unofficial leadership.

He in turn sent what he needed from her, and together the two of them approached, goals joined, and intentions set.

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

She felt the passage of time, but could not tell how much, the odd path before her kept going. But finally, after one last turn, she saw an exit. Pups clinging to her, and light of wonder guiding her way, Edith hurried herself.

Warm joy in her chest, she passed through the exit and into a darkness not as deep as the passage before. A forest greeted her, one just as thick as those above.

She opened her eyes wide, looked around, searching and expecting some grand sight. An object that would show this place was the home of Wonder. All she saw was the forest, and the sensation of her lord’s guiding pulls.

She followed without question, eagerness moving her limbs as she guided the pups. She walked for so long that Nights cloak began to be pulled back, yet weariness did not touch her, she felt strength coming from him, filling her with the power to continue on.

At the end of the long march, the forest gave way, and she with the pups, entered into a small clearing.

“Welcome to your home,” her lord said aloud, manifesting fully in front of her.

Her eyes went wide and her breath went still. A golden Dargown, hidden under clothes not of pelts, but those that shined and gleamed with symbols that hurt her eyes. This was her god truly shown, a being that had whispered and bestowed visions, promised endless things.

She fell to her knees, eyes unable to leave his majesty, unable to pull her gaze from his.

Those orbs of light promised such wonders, she could feel it, a thin vale keeping her from an endless river of knowing.

“Now,” her god said, voice echoing both in the realm and her mind. “We can finally begin.”

The vale lifted, and it all came rushing in.