They approached the beast, careful to come from the front, so as not to startle them. Noctua reached up a hand to the unsuspecting god, tapping its forehead delicately with a single slender finger, a burst of energy pulsing at the location of his touch, like the burst of a newborn star. The god’s eyes slowly came into focus as they left the depths of their dreams, fluffy clouds and murmurations of birds fading away as it blinked the trio into its frame of vision. ‘Dream god, why have you called me?’ the beast’s thunderous voice seemed to resonate the very air, Iseult could feel it in her chest, in her heart. ‘It is not me that wishes to call you, but the god the moribund and their attendant,’ he turned, gesturing to Orikka and Iseult. Orikka stepped forward, fearless. ‘What are you called, child,’ Orikka asked. The whale paused, seemingly caught off guard by the indirect acknowledgment of Orikka’s age. ‘Yba,’ she answered, her voice more subdued, ‘I am the great goddess Yba, queen of the azure oceans and all the beings therein, queen of the deep and of the dark,’ her voice gained confidence as she declared her titles. ‘Goddess Yba,’ Orikka began, respectful of their child, ‘I come to ask that you wake,’ the god rumbled, disgruntled. ‘The weight of your soul is heavy, I’ve come to inform you of a means to alleviate some of that weight, or all of it in order to reincarnate, if you wish it.’ The god stilled, faintly fanning its fins in the air, contemplating Orikka’s request.
Her eyes flickered to Noctua, seemingly familiar with his manipulations, ‘and what do you require in return,’ the god asked, suspicious of their intentions. ‘You are my beloved child, I only want your safety and health,’ they said with gentle resolve. The god eyed them for a moment more, vigilant, before nodding her great head. ‘I will wake. Where will I find this means of lessening the weight of my soul?’ Orikka seemed to smile, the faint features of their face relaxing. ‘Come to the city of Sonsoliel, there is a gate that will allow you to pass and release as much of your excessive accumulated soul as you desire, bleeding off what has leeched on to you,’ they paraphrased the soulgate. Iseult wondered if they were still trying to obscure their concerns about the dangers of soul corruption to the world. It was an intimidating concern, perhaps they were holding it close to their chest as a trump card for the sake of persuasion, or perhaps they were simply worried the gods might not care about that aspect. Were gods inherently selfish, Iseult wondered, not for the first time. They seemed often indifferent to the sake of their devotees, even their acolytes. It seemed that many beings tended towards selfishness as they aged, towards a twisted sense of self-importance, their convenience over others’ lives, even. An exchange that could only continue to be perverted to the extreme with endless time, like that which gods were granted. She could see it, in a way, what were the grievances of a small, short lived grain of sand, one of a multitude, when compared against those of a single, mighty ageless stone? Would Mejias grow to be like that too, would the weight of eternity change her?
They left the dreaming soon after, returning to where they had left their prone forms, Noctua exiting first, fading out of the dreamscape as he stepped into the waking world, raising Orikka with a touch, who promptly woke Iseult. ‘Keep your promise and I will show you all the eversleepers you wish to find,’ Noctua said, crouched, his hand stroking Tva’s blue furred head, boreal lights flickering under his fingers. Noctua tucked a lupus behind his cherished’s ear, a soft movement for someone who had so callously dismissed a human dreamer shortly ago.
They returned to Sonsoliel to await the arrival of the whale god. The seafront was some distance from the gate at the steps of the palace, so Iseult was unsure how the whale god would traverse the city to get there, but Orikka seemed unconcerned, so she resolved to wait and see. ‘Did you find the eversleepers?’ Mejias asked, standing at the sink and washing dishes as they entered. Orikka picked up a drying cloth, their need for cleanliness compulsive by now. Iseult sat at the table, ‘We have another one lined up, Noctua was slippery and only agreed to show us more if we alleviated Tva’s pain. He’ll be joining us in a couple days, after he’s slept off enough drink to travel. Not that helping him is a problem, we were planning on it anyway,’ she amended, looking around the messy kitchen, dirty dishes piling up all over the counters, ‘did you clean at all while we were away? This place is a sty.’ Mejias shot her a sullen look over her shoulder as her hands sloshed in the sudsy water, ‘I was busy, and I’m doing it now anyway.’ Iseult shook her head, she liked to think she hadn’t been quite as bad when she was alive, but then she had never lived by herself for any period of time either. ‘What were you doing while we were gone,’ she asked, plopping down at the table, elbow braced on the surface, cradling her cheek lazily. It was sometimes a blessing that she was a soul, no one could ask her to clean when she couldn’t even touch the physical world. ‘Well for one,’ Mejias turned to face her, waving a pink gloved hand airily, ignoring the dripping water falling from it, ‘I’ve been having trouble with my acolytes. A good number of them sacrificed themselves for the gate, which I thought would be a deterrent for any new ones, but there are so many that want to affiliate now. I’m not really sure what to do, I don’t know if I want any more at all. And now I have devotees too, they’ve started to tattoo their hands red, it’s kind of flattering but mostly weird. They’ve taken to calling me the Red Fist and I’m not really sure how to feel about it. I’ve always felt so self conscious of my hands, and now people are worshiping them. Oh, and Zichu wants to introduce me to the other gods. I’m not sure I want to. I still don’t like them. So, lots and lots of uncertainty. It’s been just great.’ She took off her rubber gloves, grabbing an apple and taking an aggressive bite. She chewed vigorously, a grumpy expression on her face. ‘Ew, chew with your mouth closed, you heathen,’ Iseult complained, a disgusted look on her face. Mejias just grinned, ‘Ha! How can I be a heathen, I even have my own religion.’ Iseult sniffed haughtily, what a brat.
