“Wait, wait, wait.” Tyr plopped into the snow, floored. There'd be no time for her reunion with her husband, but they had the good grace to allow a son to reconnect with his mother. Or perhaps they were so stunned that they had nothing to say just yet. He knew that she looked like the fragments of a memory he had of his mother, but... “How does this make sense!? You're not me?”

“I am you.” She nodded. “I am Tyr. And I am also Signe Gudrun Ebonfist, it's not like all of us have the same name across all worlds. That would be ridiculous. His name is Connor.” She pointed at another of their number, a man with a long braided lock of hair hanging over his shoulder. He seemed to be toying with some small black rectangular device before pocketing it. Nervously shuffling around, clearly uncomfortable at being called out in the presence of class-S existences. “We're all Tyr's, because that's the name we've been given. One of our true names, everyone has one. There are others, too, but I don't see much point in going through all that, and it would do nothing but cause even more confusion. I'm sorry, kiddo.” Signe looked genuinely apologetic, bending at the knees to rest a hand on his own. “I left because I had to, not because I wanted to.”

“But you died!” Tyr shouted. “I watched you die!”

“You sure did. I definitely died.” Signe said. “But some of us, not all, have this irritating thing called an immortality curse. I was killed, and abducted, replaced by a body too withered by manticore venom to tell the difference. The churches took me, alongside a fair number of mercenaries and assassins hired by the nobles in our country who were in league with the cults. They were interested in foreign astral entities, which I technically am. There were not two of us in your world when I came. Believe me, I get it, one of us gave birth to ourselves. It's... Bizarre, improbable, but it is completely possible in theory. Our DNA is not identical, to avoid the obvious question some may ask. We exist to seed, you know? All of our kind do. Those of us without homes, all we can do is that – and fight for the greater good, but you are my child. If it helps, I do love you. I always have, and will never stop – that's why we're here. I've been watching what bits of you I could for some time, protecting you so that you could live some approximate to a normal life – though you've certainly made that hard.”

“What about Daito?” Tyr asked. “He said you were the love of his life, was that a lie too?”

“No.” Signe shook her head. “He is my most cherished friend and like a brother to me, that doesn't mean we're anything but platonic. Like myself, he is not originally from this world, but I expect you knew that.”

Tyr shrugged before nodding. It was something he could easily see. He had said something about Varinn being foreign, in any case, but Tyr also remembered him saying the opposite about himself? Better to avoid the headache, in any case. Not to mention, he had mourned his mother so long, thinking about her every day. Only to find out she was alive. Tyr had matured, but asking him to 'understand' that was impossible. How could any person of any age come to grips with that kind of revelation? It's like... He was happy, in a way, of that there was no doubt. But it made so many things he'd done seem so inconsequential, his own existence so pointless.

“So, let me get this straight.” Hastur cleared his through. “It's well documented that at least metaphysically, primus' are sub-celestial entities. So that's all well and good – not that confusing. But ultimately, you gave birth to yourself? Can elaborate on how that is possible?”

“Shut up Hastur!” Octavian slapped him over the back of the head before dragging him out of Tyr's line of sight. At the end of the day, the man was absolutely essential to their plans. Even if he did play around far too much instead of getting it done. All part of this 'study' of his.

“You could've sent me a letter.” Tyr sighed, trying to remain calm. “Told us you were okay. Was that not possible?”

She shook her head. “I'm not really sure. Interacting with another world in a position where a paradox is possible is not wise. We aren't the authority in the universe, we don't even work for them. If given a choice to potentially destroy the planet out of selfish want... That's not hyperbole, it would literally result in a paradox event that could easily blip your planet out of existence. That thing, or god, I'm not sure – the one that manages time and reality would correct the error and wipe it from existence. Believe me, I'm sure I know how you feel, I've been out here for over four centuries and I've not forgotten what happened. I already risked too much by staying that long. And it was incredibly selfish of me.”

“Well...” The other Tyr, the 'Connor', and what a ridiculous name that was, rubbed his hands together. “I'm Connor, but that guy over there is also Connor, so... Based on our code, we usually just use numbers, you know? I'm forty two... But you can call me--”

“Shut the up, nerd!”

“These...” Forty-two shook his head. But he was a man of science and reason, understanding of the need for positing his conclusion. “So, basically. Tyr of Hjemland-7 broke taboo, right. We know this, a lot of us can see that, his soul is fractured and from a categorical cosmic state, he does not exist on this world. He belongs to the tree. Whether his soul is anchored in this body or not is irrelevant... There is no data that would suggest you could not return. Or any of us, for that matter – he is an independent entity, I can say that with a great deal of confidence. In other words, he is not Tyr.”

“Taboo?” Tyr frowned. That word had many meaning, someone who had used truly forbidden or taboo magic. It was a word used to describe things beyond illegal magics like that of blood or higher necromancy, profaning the gods. Solomon had committed taboo... Either killing a god or a primus, but neither of those seemed like something that should necessarily be so vile. Perhaps it was the magic he'd used to do it. Ellemar had committed it as well, but the reason was unclear. Presumably, it was his tampering with time and space beyond what the gods were willing to allow. Or looking where he shouldn't have and trying to inform others.

Altrimar had ascended to artificial godhood, Tyr would guess. As for Veda, another author of a black book, she had done something particularly vile. But the book was not clear, it ended before she'd finished her 'opus', contrary to the name of the book. Based on the overly romantic language she'd used, it seemed like she was trying to create her own god. All of these people had done something very wrong, but something far beyond the capacity of mankind. Something they didn't have permission to do, basically. Tyr was still middling in ability, even after all these years. Far weaker than any other primus, that was a certainty, there were plenty of mages standing in the astral with him who could pick him apart without moving a muscle.

“What taboo could I possibly have broken?”

“If what your mother says is true, you reached into the realm of death to steal back a soul that did not belong to you. Impressive, too, considering you weren't punished overmuch for it. Only through the intervention of other powers, on your behalf, I'd assume you able to remain living. Surprising, and fascinating, but how could that not be taboo? True death is a universal law, robbing a shard from the next world is a grievous crime.”

“Stealing a soul?” Tyr frowned. Thanatos had said nothing of the sort, and you'd think he'd care about that sort of thing. At least enough to mention it. “Who's soul?”

It was Jartor who would answer. “Alex's. You performed a true resurrection on Alex Goldmane when you were both children. Alone, and far beyond the capacity for that kind of magic to work. In the process, you were bedridden for weeks. Your aspect was gone before we could even determine it, and your body was beyond repair. Only through repeated entreaties to the gods did you manage to rise again. But you were... Weak, and sickly. I feel comfortable telling you now that you know she's alive, but your mother was killed for it. That's how they found her, and I never wanted you to blame yourself for that – you were only five years of age when you broke taboo. We thought she was killed. Most of this is new to me, but I am well aware of how foul it is to break divine law.”

“Yes.” Forty-two replied with a nod. “And you no longer exist. Gods cannot see you or even interact with you unless you invite them to do so. While unfortunate, given the circumstances, it's really a deus ex machina. That ability you have to always heal... I wouldn't see it as much of a gift. Likely, it's the only punishment a death god could give you. Disguised as a reward. Death is a blessing, to live forever is a curse far fouler than any other. Soul anchors and immortality curses are a torment typically reserved for the most heinous of criminals.”

“Ah...” Tyr wasn't sure how to continue a conversation with all these revelations at once. His head was a mess of conflicting thoughts and emotions. “And Alex? Will she suffer for it, too?”

“No.” Signe replied. “She was not to blame, and in my opinion – neither was an innocent child too young to know what he was doing. But the gods are cruel, and you should never trust them under any circumstances. It was a work of true artifice. She's alive, and whole, you were the only one to suffer from it. Once they couldn't take you in that moment, I bet it stewed for a bit before they found an opportunity to take action. Which god of death did you commune with?”

“Thanatos.” Tyr replied.

Signe nodded with an appraising frown. “Not the worst one. You were lucky. Of all the death gods to make contact with, I suppose he's the best of the bunch. Nice guy, and honest, so it's fairly likely that should you earn it – he will remove the curse. If it is his to do so, nobody can say with any certainty. What was the bargain you made with him?”

“To entertain him.” Tyr replied nervously. “By extension and experience, I've had a feeling that means to send particularly corrupt people to him. And kill undead, but I haven't ran into many of those, he did mention that though.”

“That tracks.” Forty-two said. “That sounds a lot like the shepherd. Only She can claim our souls, and it's not likely that you'll run into her. Of course, that could be a flag, so I suppose I'm sorry in advance. But... Uh... I hope not. In any case, as the warden of the dead and shepherd of souls, he is responsible for the sorting and transit of our immortal souls through purgatory, and--”

“Shut up, nerd!”