His mourning was cut short by the indignation of the warrens. Despite the price A’gia paid, it would not bring back the dead, and his rabbit devotees were understandably discontented. They neglected his lupus offerings, often refusing to pay homage to him, causing unrest among his acolytes as well.
They had been closer to A’gai, and saw the reciprocity of the exchange as a settled resolution, despite their dissatisfaction with her death. She had worked hard keeping the warrens safe, as they saw it, and the consequence of one small mistake was so very very steep. Tva worked nonstop keeping the peace between the two sects, as well as protecting his rabbit peoples, his wolves having taken a more detached stance in their care for the warrens after the incident, unhappy with the rabbits ingratitude. It was an exhausting situation for Tva.
He missed his daughter. She was his most trusted, his most kind. It was still hard for him to accept what she had done. He saw her in his dreams, along with his brother’s family, every night haunted by their deaths. Perhaps there was another way, besides her murder, if only he were a more wise god. Perhaps he had been too hasty, too quick to judge her actions, maybe there had been a good reason? He did his best to squash such thoughts. They would only cause him pain, an emotion he didn’t have time to indulge.
He wondered if other gods struggled with their followers the same way he was, if he could ask them for advice. But the shame of admitting that he had lost the trust of both worshipers and acolytes kept him from doing so when he attended godly gatherings. He dreaded when rumors of his shortcomings would spread amongst the other gods, malicious gossip mongers they could be.
It was at one such gathering that Noctua found him, approaching with a glass of his dream wine, made from the dream fruit of his worshipers, many that they were. ‘I’ve someone you might want to meet,’ he murmured, passing Tva a glass, his voice as tranquil as moonlight. Tva held the glass clumsily between his claws, trying not to damage the delicate porcelain, crafted in the shape of a blooming moonflower, its petals thin enough for light to pass through giving it a luminous glow.
Noctua waved a being over, their flesh almost too brilliant to look at directly, starlight peeking out from their joints and the spider web of cracks in their skin as they swayed over, long flames of magenta hair twisting above them, sparking. ‘I believe this is your parent, they were arriving back to earth around when you were born. Tva, this is the celestial Luz.’ Noctua gestured to the being, palm open in a welcome. And in a quieter voice ment for Tva alone, ‘...my invitation stands, call on me again. I will come to you,’ he said, his blue eyes hooded and intent, before he walked away, leaving Tva alone with his newfound parent.
Luz eyed Tva, burning coals in their pupils, surrounded by roiling irises of molten magma, lithium pink as their radiant hair. Tva blinked, seeing sunspots behind his eyelids. ‘I understand my descent through the atmosphere dispersed some of my godseed, transforming you into my demi-child?’ The being said, ending the statement with the inflection of a question, their voice neutral.
Tva was still jared by the revelation that he had a parent. Of course he had his wolf birth parents, but it hadn’t occurred to him that he would have a god parent as well, a being whose godseed transformed him. He hadn’t thought about his transformation itself for a long while, too focused on the repercussions of his actions following after. He wasn’t sure how he felt about having a god parent. This being seemed a bit blithely unconcerned, making a child so carelessly and then abandoning it. Not claiming responsibility for their actions. Perhaps that’s just how godly parents were? He would never have been so negligent. He did not, he decided, have a high opinion of this parent of his.
‘I was transformed by the dancing lights of the north, caught up into their skies by my song.’ He said lowly, his voice coming out rough and raspy as he tried to conceal his hostility. ‘And now you are a full god, congratulations are in order, I think.’ Luz said, their voice the crackle of a heated flame over tinder with a hint of amusement.
Tva bristled, he would never have been so crass as to congratulate another over their kin killing. Was he being taunted or was this god so indifferent to the plight of mortals? A low growl crept up his throat, either way, this god and he had irreconcilable differences. It was better to have none at all than to have Luz for a parent. Even with his own shortcomings, he was already a much better parent than his own. Luz arched a delicate flaming eyebrow at his animosity, shrugged and turned away, already bored by their new found offspring. Good riddance, Tva thought as he watched them walk away.
Meeting Luz had been an informative experience, Tva thought as he traveled back to his lands, the winds carrying his intangible form as a long eerie howl, much like the one that had been captured by Luz’s carelessly castoff godseed. He realized that just by his care and efforts alone he was already a better parent than Luz could ever hope to be, not that they would hope for such a thing, indifferent as they were to the plight of those they affected, apparently. He was a little bitter, he reflected. It hurt to be so negligently treated by his creator, however accidental it might have been. In those brief seconds before meeting Luz he had been hopeful for some wiser being that might be a comfort, that might care and have concern for him. Those hopes had been quickly dashed.
He was glad he hadn’t sought guidance from Luz regarding his children. Gods tended to endorse reciprocity, but in Tva’s opinion those exchanges tended to be more one sided in the gods favor than purported. They wouldn’t understand his care for his devotees, in many gods opinions mortals were perfidious, vice prone, and short sighted, which Tva found ironic considering gods own flaws.
Regardless of his god bretheren’s deficiencies, he still wished there was somebeing he could seek insight from. Noctua had repeatedly offered to accompany him, but his disesteem and treatment of his acolyte luna moth daughters had Tva hesitant. From his observance Noctua treated them as extensions of his will rather than beings of their own, casually crushing them at his whim when they disappointed him. Tva would never disrespect the efforts of his acolytes, and would never dream of harming them. Except A’gia, he thought, a pang through his heart.
His howl circled the grove as he arrived at the warrens, gathering opacity as he landed, stepping into materialization. His acolytes greeted him, happy yips and tails wagging. He landed among them, a few licking his muzzle in welcome. His precious children. In spite of everything, the difficulties among his worships and acolytes, he had no regrets.
