As she contemplated the name, Sammy still had other pertinent questions on her mind. “And is this shit for the Pantheon editable at all in the future?”

Redberry shrugged. “Pantheons have levels, and alterations are allowed at earlier levels with some leniency. Later on, deities do evolve, or new entries have additions or stipulations they want. All of this is based on the reasons for the changes desired, as far as I can tell. If we change because something doesn’t reflect us correctly, that is one thing, and changing to try and force new domains or skills is another.”

“Ah. Good to know. And the Iconic Skills, what do they actually do?”

Red drained her wine, then held it off to the side, where momentarily a vine-like ‘tube’ curled up from who-knew-where and squirted more wine into it. “For everyone involved, they are highly boosted to be learned at the first rank, can be gained one rank higher than an individual’s level normally allows, and are somewhat easier to upgrade. There is still effort involved, naturally.”

“Nice. How many more do we get?”

“Not sure. The System doesn’t answer, and I either don’t remember or never knew. Hopefully we get to pick some at some point.”

“Right… so… any advice for the name? Ideas?”

“Something simple, vague, and useful if we ever want to recruit. So not too self-indulgent.”

“Where’s the fun in that, Sis?”

Red frowned at her. “Mmph.”

Sammy leaned back in her seat, where conveniently wood grew to keep her from plopping backward. “Celestial Horizon. We can call each other Celestials, maybe.”

“Ooh. That has promise. I adore the simplicity and the potential for an intrinsic sense of equality, though you will be its head.”

“I will?”

Redberry sighed, sipped her wine, and shook her head. “Just think about what true, eternal reincarnation means to us spirits, Samantha. And you are the forger of those bonds. If a spirit is ever on the fence with your power, let me talk to them. They’ll be on board after, barring philosophical quirks or outright hostility that would’ve likely precluded constructive conversation beforehand.”

“I can’t really control that… I was told it’s rare.”

“Of course it is! But even the tiniest possibility has to be considered and respected. Desperately hoped for, from some. To put it plainly, the Goddess of Fate is the very Specialest Butterfly.” The finish on those words was faintly sarcastic and teasing.

“Coming from someone who lectured me once upon a time on the beauty and uniqueness of moths in comparison…”

Redberry stared at her deadpan. “The very Specialest Moth. Happy now?”

Sammy mimed the sweetest smile. “Very.”

“Never mind the fact I’m using hyperbole in the first place. Suffice to say, the domain should give pause. Was it by a conspiracy of luck you managed to best the work of that sage, or was there somehow no level comparison?”

Sammy had to stare back into those eyes for a moment, feeling a bit overrun and amazed by how much sharper and more curious the goddess had become. Everything about her had become more lively and aware. “Through [Fate], I can alter reality and force success, limited by daily uses. That was normally off-limits, but with Azure’s aid, I utilized [Channel Domain] which put it on the menu. There was still a level comparison.”

“Ah. Channel Domain. My last remaining Relic, The Wooden Changer, allows that for [Life], but the normal requirement is something stationary. It’s exceedingly powerful to have a mobile means, especially at your level.”

Channel Domain is level 13+... “What level are you, Red? If you want to tell me. You don’t have to.”

“Of course. Just don’t share it around. Level 15 in [Goddess] and 17 in [Druid]. The last is something that was underestimated by the Dominion. Few druids ever get that high. They usually accept a supervisory role somewhere at or close to double digits and don’t tend to pursue power. But deities find the mortal subclasses much easier to level. Meanwhile, [Druid] shapeshifting is very physically powerful with [Goddess].”

Sammy’s jaw dropped. “Holy crap! I can see why you were a match for that sage.”

Redberry’s eyes dropped and her expression darkened. “Only after I lost myself and went berserk after losing my beloved, Samantha. We failed. I simply exacted a price and changed their strategy. Now, a century later, you’re the only reason it didn’t work. Though they’ve indeed diminished since then. A pity Zadkiel is conducting his idiotic war. Between he and I, and now you and what is being built, we could deter them indefinitely.”

“He’ll drain them enough to deter them for a long time, anyway. But I see your point… if he perishes, it makes us weaker.” Sammy smirked suddenly. “Maybe you should rethink being his queen, eh?”

Redberry’s sour expression was all the answer needed for that. She took a long gulp of wine. “In the old days, I preferred prettier men. Swooned after bards and artists. A few of those led me to more exploration and my realization of minimal preferences and broad appreciation of mortals of all kinds. But I still have zero preference for crude, belching, braggart warriors like him.”

“I wonder how he even has so much wizardly experience. It seems so… off with him.”

“He fashioned the veneer and mask he needed to win over his people… and then he became that veneer in divinity. I’m not sure there is anything left of whoever or whatever he was before. He abandoned it as weakness.”

“I’m surprised you don’t fancy putting him in his place. You don’t sense his ‘step on me, queen’ energy? I mean, seriously, I think he has something like that going on under the surface.”

Redberry squinted her eyes at Sammy and her lips twisted to one side in torn deliberation. Ultimately, she sighed and shrugged her shoulders. “It doesn’t matter. He is doomed from this path he’s taken. If by some miracle I am wrong, we’ll see what the future holds between our lands and peoples.”

Suddenly, the nature goddess glanced back over at the dancing, where Constance was grooving with a dryad and a satyr. “Do you mind if I take her for the night?”

Sammy choked on her drink and sputtered. “Phf- I- hrph! Not- It’s not anything to do with me!” Her strangled voice squeaked at the end. She then cleared her throat and collected herself. “No, Red. No, I don’t mind. Do whatever! If she wants. Just keep it out of my head.”

Redberry nodded simply. “Oh, she wants, trust me. She’s been teasing me. She reminds me so much of myself when I was young. She is naturally alluring. Well done on her design, Moth.”

“Gee, thanks. Do enjoy my handiwork.” It was thick with sarcasm. “So anything else to go over about this Pantheon stuff, then? Otherwise, I won’t keep you from, uh, unwrapping your present. Ugh. Why did I say that…”

Redberry grinned at her. “Your intuition speaking, of course. But no. Just begin. Spend the FE and introduce your people to our new spring. Our Servitors will begin conferring about how to directly transfer believers to you, and I will make my own direct moves soon. After… festivities are over.”

“Right. Oh, one other thing. One other crucial thing. The one I mentioned needed help… with a body. Marjorie. Do you recall how to help, now?”

Redberry nodded slowly. “Possible. Very possible — for reincarnators. She had not before, correct?”

“No. On Calrenazzod? No, of course not.”

“And she is not venerated, as based on her prior natural lifespan?”

“No, she’s just mature. Middle-aged.”

“Then yes especially, if this… trap that she’s in allows transfer. I am not familiar with it. But note that the biggest question you must ask is about the body. A soulless human body is difficult and time-consuming to manufacture, as well as erring into the necromantic. Life never conjures out of nothing. A… year or two, perhaps. It would be experimental for me.”

Sammy sighed. “I’d rather not. I take it you have another suggestion?”

“The natural form is irrelevant to the novelty of taste when I can bake in shapeshifting. So… one should probably deduce the choice of natural form by its utility and spiritual affinity.”

Redberry gave Sammy a flat look. “If she is amenable to becoming a living wood construct — like a kind of dryad — this would be most efficient by far. Many trees are very agreeable to this sort of fusion, hence our existence to begin with. Barring this… reincarnation into an animal may be possible. From scratch is still tricky, so affinity or arranging for a bond and agreement with an existing animal is better.”

“So you want to turn Marjorie into a tree?”

Redberry’s eyebrows raised. “Do you have something against trees?” Just then, over half a dozen dryads suddenly turned their heads to look over, as if overhearing.

“No! No, no — not at all! I love trees. Hehe.” The dryads momentarily went back to their merriment. “It’s just… I don’t know. I guess I should talk to her about it first, right?”

“Of course. In the meantime, I’ll refresh myself on the System details as well as my research on results. Some of it still survives. Again, remember that I can bake in shape-changing to a human. While of course it will be different than she was, it is more of an advantage than a disadvantage.”

“I’ll be sure to mention that.” Becoming a dryad is going to be quite a pill to swallow. I dunno if she even wants this in the first place, honestly…

From out of the nearby roots, a dryad appeared to grow right out of them, forming into a highly-detailed, nearly human form, with a skirt and minimal top of leaves. Her hair was a multitude of vines, sort of like dreadlocks. She had a warm energy to her and a face that seemed to be smiling even at rest. She bowed.

“This is Vinewicker,” Redberry said as she drained her wine and set the cup down. “She is my oldest Servitor and has come out of dormancy since my restoration. She really couldn’t tolerate my melancholy and bullshit the last decade or so.”

Vinewicker smiled brightly with her eyes closed in a cute pose. “Entirely accurate! Sorry about that!”

Rolling her eyes as she stood, Red continued, “She will help order and run things. If I am busy, or the matter is mundane, you may screen questions or actions through her. Regardless, I will not block you out in an emergency any longer, Moth. So you know.”

Sammy nodded to Vinewicker with a smile. “It’s nice to meet you.” She stood and gave Red a side hug. “Later, then?”

“Later, Moth.” Red turned and strode off in the direction of the dancing and — namely — Constance.

Sammy turned to the dryad, meeting big, luminous white eyes studying her curiously. “Did you lose a lot of your memory, too? I wanted to ask if she’s close to how she used to be, now.”

Vinewicker made a hand sign like ‘kinda.’ “We were all affected by the troubles, but she’s definitely closer. Still different! Dark times shape you forever!” It was an odd delivery, maintaining constant cheeriness.

“I suppose that’s just the way it is. Well. We’ll be in touch, hmm? And Jeeves, too.”

Vinewicker did another cute pose with her fist on a cocked hip and her other hand with a thumb’s up. “We’re acquainted! Friends forever, everyone! Summer is here!”

“I mean, I guess, but Red keeps saying spring-”

“It is absolutely Summer! Yay!” A big smile with her eyes closed and her head cocked.

Sammy stared at her deadpan for a moment. “Okaay. I’ll be going now. Cheers.”

Sammy dipped out abruptly to project back to her throne realm. Soon thereafter, she drew up the entry for the Pantheon and spent the 777 FE.