Argrave heard a loud, deep rumbling noise echoing across the land, almost like a foghorn. He could feel it through his whole body. It shook the metaphorical cage around his head, and it was only after a few seconds that he remembered to open his eyes.

As far as the eye could see, a great red ocean twisted and cast waves upon the shore just as the real ocean might have. The sight brought back memories, and he urgently turned his head about as he remembered what he’d been doing. Orion, Ganbaatar, Vasilisa, and Nikoletta had all come with him. They looked around in panic. They were on an island of some kind—a tropical island, perhaps, though the trees had bark that looked like flesh and the flat, wide leaves were red and veiny. He might’ve called this a hellscape, yet the bright blue skies gave life to the grim place it sorely needed.

“Take it easy. Don’t do anything stupid,” Argrave told them at once. “We’re in the land of the elven gods, now. Most specifically, in Chiteng’s section of it.”

The deep horn split the air once again, shaking the very earth they stood on. It seemed louder this time. Everyone turned their head towards it source. And when they saw it…

“My…” Nikoletta trailed off, stepping away in fear.

Ganbaatar knelt down in the sand, lowering his head in deference that seemed strangely bitter and shocked. Orion walked to the shore, staring ahead in protective defiance of Argrave. Vasilisa took her place by Argrave’s side. And as for him… he simply beheld Chiteng.

Deep in the heart of the ocean of blood, a blocky throne stood strong, rising from the deep. It was made of rich, radiant ivory, and tall as a mountain besides. It had to be tall to accommodate the giant elven figure resting upon it. Like all of the wood elves, he had blonde hair and red eyes. Garbed in only a crimson robe, Chiteng slouched on his throne decadently… or decrepitly. His limp arms seemed to be the only thing stopping him from sliding further down, and his feet were hit by high waves all too often. Still, his eyes… they saw. He was alive, without question. And unlike Sarikiz, he was awake, too.

A whale swam away from the throne, every so often rearing above the surface and letting out that haunting call that sounded all too similar to a foghorn. It seemed made of the same ivory as that throne, yet still it swam without issue, coming closer and closer and sounding louder and louder. As Argrave saw the size of it, he wondered if it was the cause of every wave in that vast ocean.

“Towards thee I roll, thou all-destroying but unconquering whale…” Argrave said as awe and fear both seized his heart. He stepped ahead as its horn call dominated all thought, standing at the shore with Orion.

“Your Majesty… be careful,” Orion cautioned, but Argrave only waved him away.

It became abundantly clear as it approached that Chiteng’s whale was far larger than the island they stood on. When it came close enough, its great horn call stopped, and its ceaseless swim forward slowed so that it might land harmlessly by the shore.

Eventually, it settled by the island, its great broad head looming over them all. Up close, despite its terrifying nature… it had a beauty to it, Argrave couldn’t deny. It looked more like a marble sculpture than a living creature, yet it moved and bobbed with the waves every bit as alive as any whale he’d seen.

The whale waited, and waited, and waited. Argrave knew what had to be done, it was simply about mustering himself up to the task. Gradually, he swallowed. “I offered the spirits from the ancient god Fellhorn as a gift. My hope is that it aids you in the years to come, as Gerechtigkeit descends upon this earth.”

No response came from the whale. It floated there, its great tail barely moving behind it as it waited.

“I hope to ask of Chiteng two boons. The first… I believe it wholly amenable. In this realm of the elven gods, the forces permeating here rejuvenate the body, making death a difficult prospect. I hope that I can enjoy the benefits of this realm as I ascend to A-rank.”

The whale didn’t move… but Argrave saw from people’s reactions that Chiteng, the distant god, did. He could not see past the whale, but he stepped aside and craned his neck just as the giant elf slammed his fist upon his throne. The ocean began to rumble, and a door rose up, settling along the shore. Argrave stared at the door. It looked like the same ivory as the throne—given Chiteng’s sphere of influence, it was likely made of bone.

After witnessing it, Argrave looked back at the whale. “…I’m assuming you’re telling me I can leave when I like.”

There was no answer in return. Argrave supposed that so long as he didn’t receive a clear refusal, the answer was yes.

“I thank you for your grace,” Argrave dipped his head. “Then… for the other matter. I ask that you forgive my hubris, but I must make a suggestion to you and the other gods of this realm,” Argrave said delicately, leaving pause for a blunt refusal. When none came, Argrave continued. “My subordinates travel to the other ancient altars, rousing each of your family in kind. My hope… my hope is that you will accept my direction in the conquest of another god already laying waste to your worshippers’ homeland, and further unite my kingdom and the elven society against the true threat.” Argrave finished quickly, lowering his head in deference.

From afar, a deep, guttural laugh echoed throughout the land, louder than even the whale’s horn call. Chiteng laughed, he realized. The god sounded amused, like a child had said something funny because of its ignorance. Argrave kept his head bowed and lowered, hoping that amusement did not spell anger. The gargantuan whale backed away from the shore, sinking deep into the ocean and fading away into redness.

It’s over. He won’t hear me out. Despair crept into Argrave’s chest. Yet then… the whale pushed against the shore, moving aside the sand with its broad head as it crept towards Argrave. It seemed liable to split the entire island, and Argrave took a step back in fear. Orion grabbed Argrave, prepared for anything. Yet the whale settled before them, waiting.

Argrave stared down at the whale, expecting further movement at any time. His breathing was a bit quick. When he looked up, the elven god he saw was vastly different from the one he’d seen moments ago. He was still slouched, yet his hand had moved to his temple, and he tapped his finger and stared… expectantly, Argrave realized. Impatiently.

Once he realized what was asked of him, Argrave exhaled loudly, gathering himself. He tried to step forward, but Orion stopped him.

“What are you doing?” the prince asked urgently.

“Let go, Orion,” Argrave directed with a calm he did not feel inside. “We’re going to be taken closer.”

Ordered so blatantly, Orion obeyed and released his grip. Argrave stepped atop the whale, feeling its dense blubber beneath his boots. Just as it began to rumble… the prince joined him atop its broad head.

“Are you sure?” Argrave asked him.

“I must protect you,” Orion confirmed. “You are my brother and my king.”

With that, the whale slowly backed away from the shore, keeping its body as level and steady as any cruise ship. Slowly, slowly, it rose up out the water, turned, and began to swim towards Chiteng. The elven god of flesh and blood waited, his red eyes fixed upon the two of them.

The lone call of the whale had been a haunting thing from the shore alone, but as Argrave and Orion sailed out deep into the open sea that call of theirs became more numerous. A faint red mist shielded one from seeing too far, so the harrowing noise of distant foghorns penetrated the bloody ocean’s fog as the giant Chiteng watched on from above, staring.

“No matter what happens, I’d ask that you stay quiet,” Argrave said. “It’s safest for both you and me.”

He waited for an answer, and then looked to Orion when none came. The man stood there quietly, his helmet in the crook of his arm, watching Argrave silently.

Argrave caught on—the man didn’t intend to speak, just as he’d directed. “Good. Thank you. Both for being here… and for being cooperative.” He looked back up to the meeting that awaited them, eyeing the red-robed elven figure.

Now… how was he to persuade a god who’d laughed at his idea? It seemed a very difficult proposition.