--- Aphrodite POV

Hrut, double blade axe above his head cuts a majestic warrior figure towering over the pitiful creature at his feet, an Orc leaking black blood clinging to one final desperate effort, crossing his arms trying to ward off a death blow from a Frost Giant, an impossibility. I roar, my challenge descending into a sharp toothy smile. A greeting of one well satisfied and about to meet their past. The pathetic Orc crawls away black spotting a trail across the marble white snow, fate sparing him as Hrut turns away from his prey to prepare for my arrival, his eyes staring, quizzical, firing up my amusement.

Then he enters my mind. “Thank-you for saving me faithless betrayer!”

From what I ask him? I receive no answer, only a feeling of his superiority and then nothing, even our link fades to a thin fragile ribbon. A sense of doom descends upon me then and instead of landing to face a welcome memory, reuniting, I pump my wings to greater effort striving with anxious fear to reach the clouds, a cold unwelcome grip reaching for my heart. I need to fly higher to escape before the fingers close.

“If your name is Aphrodite, I would speak with you,” the Frost Giant yells.

His voice deep, strong and confident now. His words haunt me, calling from deep within my memory. A young Frost Giant embracing a new belief, as his Priestess once guiding him in the worship of his God. I borrow his strength, his promise of company, not a voice in my head, a living breathing being, and my wings pause in flight, gliding and I lean favouring one side. The soft snow is under my paws before I realise and the Frost Giant Hrut, Myrmidon of Zeus: Storm Aspect leans upon his huge two-handed axe staring at me with bright welcoming eyes.

“Do you chase Orcs now?” I ask.

“Those Orcs yes, although my [Soul Sight] glimpsed something else, a power or a spirit, which guided them to a purpose which remains a mystery, although your presence always a portent of something strange.” His lips curling up at the edges.

I connect my doom to the Dungeon Master. Azizos accompanied his Orcs most likely chasing me, the cabin irrelevant … legs weak, my body plummets into the snow and tears moisten my eyes. A fateful chance to be rid of him, Hrut the harbinger of his doom and my senseless challenge interrupting him. I try to blame fate and yet simply allowing a tradesman to finish his work would have sufficed.

“Are you well?” The concern in Hrut’s voice finally rousing me from my self-pity.

“A simple thing, I should have let you carry out your duty and slay the last Orc. A tormentor of mine, the Dungeon Master Azizos’s fate I think bound to that creature …”

Hrut blinks and quirks his head. “I prepared for your challenge, physically larger and I assumed the greater threat … until the greeting and the smile. The Orc I could always catch up with later.”

His reaction perfectly normal, needing no explanation although kind of him to offer one, I sigh and lift myself to all fours, the snow melting off me due to my warmth, this body immune to the icy cold. I wish with all my heart to have that moment again, and yet impossible, taunting me he slips away, his continued existence solely due to my interference.

“I thank-you for greeting me,” I say, trying to keep the melancholy from my voice.

Hrut bends at the waist slightly, one hand maintaining a firm grip upon his axe. “My former Priestess will always be granted conversation before conflict, especially when her voice doesn’t match her eyes.”

I still need to raise my head slightly. “Should I prepare for battle then?”

His smile breaks into a throaty chuckle. “My mother as you know, now Priestess suspects Zeus is none too pleased with you – betrayer apparently?”

“I have been hearing that accusation a lot of late and just to be clear, he cast me aside first, although I don’t expect you to believe me over your faith in Zeus, after all that isn’t how worship works.”

His brow furrows. “I suspect he would be urging me on now, only he has exhausted himself with my mother.”

My eyes pop wide open.

“No not like you think, his presence entered her body to enable him to bring his direct influence into this world. Fanatical in purpose, she suspects you the trigger.” He releases a booming laugh. “I don’t suspect at all ... you tend to make your presence felt.”

I draw out the reply. “You would be correct.”

Hrut looks over his eyebrows. “Then I should dispatch you and win favour with my God, unfortunately I don’t feel his presence to any great degree, exhaustion perhaps.”

“Do you think you would win?” I think a smirk, my facial muscles somewhat of a mystery, a curious mix of human and lion features.

“You are unarmed, with claws you would need to close to strike, while my swinging axe only needs to clip you once and I still have Zeus’ gifts of Magic. I would rate my chances as better than average.”

My Monster Dominate has been recently accelerated in a catch-up to my Sentient Dominate and yet he speaks truth, I have my own Divine Magic although I am shadow of my former Lamia self. The spikes on my tail may enrage him into a foolish charge, possibly.

“I agree, do we now begin?”

He stands to his full regal height, both arms crossing over the upright shaft of his axe. “No, I will but warn you to vacant Frost Giant lands in the name of King Valmund.”

“You are most gracious. Please ensure you send my greetings to your King and your Priestess.” I spread my wings and shake the snow and ice from them. Even in this evolution the feathers midnight black, a deep blue-black tint on the wing tips and I take heart the system now defaults to at least one of my preferences.

“Fare thee well Golden Eyes, all who know you will recognise you by them alone.”

I cross my forelegs in an awkward bow, drawing a chuckle from him. I straighten. “Will your God not punish you for not taking this opportunity?”

“You need not worry about me. My God is distant so the timing of our discussion perfect. Fate perhaps?”

A small rebalance at least. I flap my wings, working them furiously until I take to the air and then flight, a momentary look over my shoulder as I fly back … I am no longer welcome in the Dungeon of Azizos and I have twenty-three days before I am forced into a respawn death. I review the messages of my recent respawning.

{Dungeon Master evolves your existence. Emergency Action, no incubation required. No adjustments required.}

{Dungeon Master evolves your existence. +4% Dungeon Dominate, Total now 95% and “Force Living Construct into any previous Evolution Form” is acquired. +10% Monster Dominate, Total now 77% and “Able to breed current Evolution Form” is acquired.}

{Living Construct is currently 95% Dungeon Dominate and will need to return to the Dungeon in 5 Days or suffer automatic respawning.}

{Emergency Action precludes modifications, evolution finalised: Manticore}

{Innate Abilities granted:

24 Tail Spikes can be cast 3 or 4 at a time – considered one volley.

Eating and digesting metal heals and regrows spent Spikes.}

What an abysmal creature, the Nemean Lion marginally better except for flight and that is what I require now. Exercising my will, I scroll back the messages until my choices for Dominate Lockout are blinking before me finding two other messages.

{Sentient Dominate threshold 85% met, Living Construct Feature unlocked: Living Construct Form able to fall pregnant.}

{Sentient Dominate threshold 95% met, Living Construct Feature unlocked: Living Construct Form able to adjust appearance.}

For so long mothering denied to me and now I am more than capable. I plummet downwards. What do the above mean when compared to the latest Monster Dominate notification? The passing air grabs at this evolution’s lion mane, the long strands of golden-brown fur whipping at my face before flowing behind and I pay no attention. My wings extend, not at my instruction though, a mind of their own. Instinct?

Height provides gliding distance and I comfortably clear the familiar Mountain Plateau, for my own good now denied to me, which accommodates the Lake, Stone Giants, Frost Giants and when they venture forth from their fiery volcanic domain, Fire Giants. These details I reflect upon, later. For now, my thoughts are concentrating on the possibility of motherhood, not of one sort though. The obvious, meeting my long-held wish, Mother of Monsters. After all, I could consider the Karpy an early success? Certainly, an indicator of my future path. Who or what would father any new monsters by me?

Certain words haunt me now. “My breasts belong to him and the children I father with him who I will suckle upon them.” I didn’t believe in the possibility and yet her desire to bear children burns deeply within, to the core of my being. I am jealous of her certainty and while heart aching, I minutely examine her love of him, desire of him and determination to birth his progeny.

I need to touch my womb, in my Living Construct form, no I am almost Sentient Dominate now. What am I? I try to revaluate while in flight, the irony, I am currently a monster. My human form, like her and yet unlike her. If I am human enough, then the question of who fathers’ children upon me more able to be answered. A surprise. I blink. A Mother of Humans a clearer possibility, than Mother of Monsters … My world view is overturned. I should, no, I will give birth to those who match the image of my Creator, to populate this world with a human form crafted from his vision. He formed the humans on Earth from clay and they now worship the Olympian Gods. Perhaps his intent all along was for me to do the same on this world …

I beat down hard with my wings, they and I regaining purpose. The emerald green shades of the forest zoom under me as I once again strive for altitude and the freedom flight bestows upon me. The world shrinks below as I punch through billowing clouds the moisture within bathing me, washing away dirt, grime, and doubts. Motherhood is within me, Mother of Monsters, and Mother of Humans, therefore a double blessing and yet to dampen my revelation, a limitation, twenty-three days once again rings loud in my ears.

If Azizos denies me entry, who am I kidding, of course he will deny me as even now the tether which binds us is thin, a wisp and not due to distance, he withdraws his will, refusing to support my existence beyond the minuscule requirements. My stomach gurgles in response, hunger? I could turn to Arsu, offer my allegiance in a deeper way beyond true friendship although I am unsure of the ramifications of doing so. I must develop another plan and I must now believe my Divine Dominate holds the key to my ultimate freedom. Surely the Divine can’t fall to the Dungeon?

This creature’s vision spies upon the remnants of the Questor Group camp below, abandoned, only the bones on the carcass, the pathways joining clearings remain. The forest in contrast busy, the thin canopy unable to conceal the multitude of paths and campsites. Many campsites, too many to be all Questor Group, which means the Lessor Snake Kin Houses must have arrived. I am loathed to face any in my present form and in any case my stomach reminds of a need. The blue-green ribbon of the river beckons and I aim to return to a campsite abandoned long ago and I hope, still is. My taste for battle now secondary to my search for prey and somewhere in my soul the Griffin rejoices when I use that term.

I dive into the clear blue water of the river and burst out through the surface with a large wiggling fish in my lion-human jaws, my sharp teeth embedding themselves. Water spray flees from my wings, the droplets like jewels reflecting sunlight. Initially I thought to cook the catch over a fire, instead I grind raw flesh and bone, including the head down until able to swallow the remains whole. I devour several before the hollowness in my stomach recedes, although not disappearing all together. I am missing something from this creature’s diet and upon re-reading its description I settle on the fact I haven’t consumed any metal as yet, my nose becoming increasingly sensitive to the desired ‘food’. Only Quest Town has an ample supply and I am not yet prepared to return to place I wrought such pain and death upon.

---

I stroll about the campsite naked, not bothering with a campfire the firelight an unwanted signal and the warmth unnecessary. The sun sinking in the west casts an orange glimmer over the river as the huge yellow-orange ball sinks below the horizon and I take several moments of inner reflection to appreciate the spectacle.

Turning my attention to my basalt black living construct form I notice with amusement, hair. I didn’t will it into existence nor did I not, a humanising development I surmise. A useless black patch grows above the join of my legs, yet below my belly. None upon my arms or legs and I will that to remain so, uncertain if my body will obey. There is an itch under my armpits where a stumble begins, and my eyes have dark eyelashes and eyebrows. Finally, tight curls of tough unforgiving black hair forest the top of my head. I catch my reflection in the river in the fading light of the day to confirm while running my fingers through the growth upon my head plucking and releasing in a weird fascination.

I experiment with [Living Construct Form able to adjust appearance] commanding the useless hairs in my armpits to drop off and they do. Next my face, imagining a match to the human healer my touch shortly after confirms a reasonable level of success, although with the sun now set, I am unable to check in the river-mirror. Perversely there are many Lion Kin to draw upon and a moment of sadness hits, recovery made possible by declaring a determination to try and adjust until a perfect replica is achieved. Instead, after multiple attempts I scowl finding a limit by discovering the imperfections. Unable to shade the fur the right orange tan for instance, in fact my limit is black. Both of the images are mine to recall given I have eaten their respective livers and own some of their memories. Sorrow suddenly returns to my heart and I abandon further discovery. I blame my Sentient Dominate, the resultant accumulation of human feelings and I recognise an admirable simplicity in the Griffon view of existence.

The dark of night now settles across the land and the nocturnal forest awakes, a carnival of scents, flora and fauna fill my nostrils, the gurgling beat of the river serenading both. Calm washes over me, I return my thoughts to consider the real possibility of motherhood. I am a Fertility Goddess who can give birth, my Living Construct form is complete and motherhood, birthing of a child is possible, and a cautious joy fills my heart. I am also conscious of the fact my monster form can give birth, yet I know either form will require a father and there perhaps rests the impossibility, especially for the monster form as I am unique, while the Living Construct form requires male humans from across the sea? What of Kin? How do they fit into my new world view? Shouldn’t a Fertility Goddess be able to work a miracle of sorts? My hands shake and I lock my fingers together to restrain their rebellious independence. I can’t discern a reason why in my present state. Perhaps I am on the edge of a cliff and my next step holds unknown consequence.

“Goddess?”

“Alasse you have proven yourself beyond my wildest expectations and I thank you.”

“I live to serve my Goddess.”

“All are ready?” The forest camp suggests so and yet I want her to celebrate.

“Yes Goddess, and many have heard my sermon preaching your greatness, although I fear our Temple will be too small …”

“I will talk to a friend tonight.”

“Yes Goddess, I …”

“Speak your mind my faithful servant.”

“You have changed me. I am no longer Snake Kin and therefore uncertain of my place in the world. Each sermon I deliver I am more convinced of this fact as I don’t preach to different Kin, I preach to potential worshippers, I am now blind to Kin and culture and my own Kin realise this, perhaps from the very first day I presented our plan to the Matriarchs, although none speak of it.”

The words tumbling from her mind, uncertain of my reaction perhaps and not wanting to pause and lose her bravery.

“I would like to assure you this is positive and natural and yet I can’t. I can only offer my love and support as my faithful servant …”

“I am afraid I will not be able to find a mate and give birth as a … Priestess of a Fertility Goddess I should be able to demonstrate my faith in such a way. Am I presuming too much as your Prophet, will I rise to be your Priestess?”

She fears rejection from her own kind given her change and fears being a Priestess and barren, an ultimate shame. There is a gentle frailty to her mind-speech, a vulnerability in direct contrast to the strong confident worshipper who came to my rescue. Witnessing my weakness now allows her to share her concerns.

“With every sermon more Snake Kin find enlightenment, embracing worship of me and will be desperate to mate with a Priestess of Aphrodite, you will not want for partners.”

In the silence which follows I change to the detestable Manticore form to take flight, the only way to cross the river. Halfway across and my Prophet concludes our chat.

“Goddess I hope it is so.”

---

Nasim and his family stroll between forest edge and riverbank, a lantern lighting their way and pinpointing their slow progress. An arrangement of faith we made to ensure I could approach him without warning or notice, avoiding the eyes of others. I land beyond their questing circle of light and wait in silence for them to discover my presence.

“Your appearance has changed yet again my Goddess, don’t be afraid, my family and I are accepting of you as you have been accepting of us.”

His deep rumbling voice a comfort and with a few cautious steps forward I fully reveal my new form.

The children cover their mouths, hands flying up immediately upon my reveal. His wife squeezes her husband’s hand and Nasim speaks plain. “What ugly creature are you now?”

“I am called a Manticore.” I swivel as best I can on all fours, a slight stumble though spoils the performance.

“How will your faithful accept you? The Snake Kin in particular?”

“I have no other choice, I need to leave them in my Prophet’s care, instead I have an alternative proposal and please don’t be afraid of my change.”

I draw upon my Human Dominate and will the return of my Living Construct form. The glossy deep black returns to me like a comfortable skin, I notice my own nakedness when Nasim’s wife hustles their children turning their eyes towards the stream. Doesn’t the hair covering make a difference?

“I apologise Nasim.”

“They are of an age to learn about the such things like the birds and the bees, their mother will educate them and if not her, then I.” He chortles, the rumble from deep down laughing at his own joke.

I will change upon myself; the ebony skin lightens until I approximate the shades of grey visible upon Nasim.

“So, you would be Stone Giant now Goddess, I approve, in fact you should always remain in our likeness …”

I add common facial features, large bulbous nose, chiselled facial features and lengthening my body as tall as possible although I only reach Nasim’s shoulder.

“Do I pass?”

“Yes, in the main my Goddess, my wife Fabia would be the best to advise you. I will take the children and leave you to her guidance. Your height shouldn’t change so I will return with clothing later tonight.”

As Nasim guides his children away leaving the lantern his wife approaches taking small cautious steps, she glances more than once at her husband’s retreating form, her eyes able to follow him into the dark.

“I will not bite,” I say, finishing with a smile.

She bobs her smooth stone-grey head, large earrings dangling free, issuing a soft tinkling. Her hands draw a large cured bearskin around her shoulders, while a brown fur wolfskin wraps around her waist, feet bare like mine.

“Do you wish to convince a real Stone Giant you are a Stone Giant or just non-Stone Giants?” she whispers, although her tone is also deep.

“A real Stone Giant at night, a non-Stone Giant night and day, is this possible?”

She scrutinises my face. “Your Golden eyes will be a problem for either.” She shuffles around me, the lantern a spotlight. “More muscular definition above your loin hair.”

“Loin?” I query.

She points at my triangle of curly hair and I nod.

“When you have children, your breasts will sag low if a Stone Giant, you are too short to be of age so firm them up … yes … more … enough.”

She slides around behind me. “Our buttocks are usually slim, upper arms wiry concealing our real strength, our husbands always forget until we slap their shoulders when disrespectful.”

I sense a quiet smile, yet don’t witness the gesture. A female thing maybe.

“Enlarge your ears.”

She stood in front of me now, completing a re-examination. “I will ensure Nasim returns with a low helm, wrist and shin bands. Do you have a skill in a weapon?”

“Sword is best, Spear and Bow good, Halberd I can handle without hurting myself …”

“Spear then, Sword unusual for us, while no Stone Giants I know use Bows, and I am unsure of what a Halberd is, sorry.”

I nod. “Spear.”

“A young Stone Giantess will always carry a weapon, to hunt, proclaim her independence and fend off unwelcome male interest.” She smirks and then flutters her eyes. “You are a pretty one and will attract much attention, you must beat down the first, probably the second and third before you will be respected and left alone.”

“What do I need to change, to be erm … less pretty?”

“Larger nose. Only male Stone Giants have large noses, not pretty for female. Your eyes will be … you will need to cast your eyes to the ground, although be warned such a look is submissive and even an ugly young female could attract attention …”

I lift my head from practicing the downward look without humility and stare at her, eyes wide.

“My husband and I are fortunate with two children, rare. Our love is said to be pure. Others, often their marriages are barren, but once married always so. Sad. You will be new blood in the village.”

“Thank-you.”

“You are welcome, our lives are better now since meeting you …” Her hand rests lightly upon my arm, and I almost flinch. During this entire time, she took extra effort to avoid such direct intimacy.

“Your return doesn’t mean to change this …” Her eyes moisten. “Nasim is devoted to you, at times, the way he talks, me, our children are in your shadow …” She wipes an eye with the back of her hand. “I am sorry, I am not jealous, just protective of our happiness.”

I want to tell her everything will be better … I can’t. Hope is the best I can offer, too many factors, the Great Houses, Zeus and Azizos. The Quest Town, each Kin within as yet unaware of the changes happening around them.

“I hope for the best, although I can’t promise I don’t bring destruction with me this visit.”

Her hand recoils from my arm as if on fire. I don’t take any offence as she didn’t expect my honest answer, needing to hear all will be well, even if a false promise. Unfortunately for Nasim’s wife I am committed to truth given the suffering I have inflicted to date. She about turns and marches off along the bank of the river, escorted by a wild swinging of lantern light. I back off into the eaves of the forest and wait.