[EDEL] To Mourn The Sky (Echo/Harmy/Kidlets)

[A Wandering Esper]

To Mourn The Sky

Zero Dream

Echo had come here on this day for two things - mostly to be a silent spectator and motivation for her youngest son, and to see how Harmodius was faring. She had heard all about his visit to the rest of her family, which she had been absent to, but she wished to see and pay her respects herself. After all, the catacombs would be clear soon, and from there on was uncertainity, as she would go to seek out her love. The goddess had no idea where her eldest had wandered off to, or she would have taken them as well.

Hopefully the purple-haired godling would not find a way to hide behind his sister...

Beside, she figured Creation might enjoy spending more time with little godlings, rare as they were. She gave her youngest a pat on the shoulder, followed by a gentle push forward. "Go." She said, softly.

He wasn't sure about this.

He really wasn't sure about this.

The godling held his book to his chest almost as if it was a lifeline, and looked. He needed to do this, he knew, else all that he had done so far be meaningless... But that did not make the prospect any less scary.

Thankfully, everything seemed blissfully empty. He looked over as his sister inquisitively.

It still took his mother's gentle shoulder pat and push for him to adventure into the room proper. "Hi... ?" Hopefully Harmodius was here, and not busy. He wanted to know what he thought about what he had written.

Ivynian

Flavor Image

Indeed, the Eldest was present, sitting at the edge of the larger of the raised platforms so that his leg rested down on a lower step. Nearby was the corner of one of the fountains that lifted mists to dew the shapes and twisting limbs of the story reliefs that spanned the solid wall. The water played with the shifting lights of the room and brought the illusion of breath and motion where there was none.

Harmodius, however, was not glistened with water and was still as the stone behind that seemed carved of foretime likenesses. Just as still, just as silent.

At the word, he looked over toward the stair that brought others down from the hall of doors, a mother a two children there. His smile spread slowly, dreamlike or perhaps as though waking from one, it could not really be known which.


"Hello."

Thabara

„Hello~!“ Crys chirped, the girl certainly seeming more outgoing than her younger brother. She left her mother's side and – having memorized exactly how many steps there were left – jumped down the remainder of the stairs in an imaginary game of hopscotch before she closed up to Kios. A flower was stuck in her hair, wilting by now, but it still smelled wonderfully. „You'll do fine,“ she reassuringly whispered into her brother's ear, hugging him from behind, but at the same time pushing him forward some more.

Zero Dream

It was a good thing Crys was there to push him along, or else he likely would have stopped on the spot. The boy stumbled one step awkwardly due to the push but managed to regain balance and not send both himself and his sister straight for the floor, and he started to walk on his own, stopping right before the pale, still form and apparently searching for his words (or perhaps hesitating for a moment) before he finally spoke.

"I... wrote something." It was hard to not simply slip back to old habits right now, of just using third person. "Ill'd like you to read and tell me what you think... if you don't mind. s'about Lucius." He could hardly present the lament to others if he was sure one of the principal persons it could touch was not happy with it, couldn't he ?

Their mother continued her slow decent of the stairs, her expression lit with a smile as she held one side of her dress in her hand in order not to step on it. Once she reached the bottom, she gave a polite bow to the Eldest, but remained silent aside from the melody always carried by her wings. Anything she had to say, if there was even anything, would wait until her children were done.

Ivynian

"Your professionalism, at least, is to be applauded. Skalds and bards of old often made many drafts...or practiced their arts and ideas before the formal performances. It is my honour that you view the matter gravely....and to review the work so far. Harmodius bowed his head respectfully to the young god,
"Is this indeed physically written, or will there be a recitation? "

Thabara

He writes all the time, was what Crys wanted to say. She could hear it, even from her room, if she listened closely, the sound of her brother's quill moving over paper or parchment, scritchscritchscritchscritchscritch … But clearly, it had been her little brother who'd been adressed, not her, and remembering their father's lessons about 'manners' the young goddess kept silent.

She remained close to Kios though, using the sound of his steps as her guide to follow him, and stopping when he did. Lingering behind her sibling like a shadow, for now only offering the quiet support of just being there.

Zero Dream

The boy offered a rather sheepish expression, lips just slightly curving up in what might have been a faint, embarrassed smile. "Wrote lots of things..." He admitted out loud what his sister had thought to herself. "But didn't like anything 'till now. That's why it took so long." A few months, if that. A rather laughable amount of time for immortals like them, but the boy was young, and had only lived a few months beyond one mortal year. To him, that had been a long time to keep the Eldest waiting. He would learn better, eventually, but that knowledge had not seemed to truly settle in yet.

He pondered the question for a moment. It was physically written, in the one book he held so closely to his chest like a lifeline, but... it would seem better to sing it, would it not ? But at the same time... his shyness was threatening to get the best of him again. The boy turned his head to give his mother an inquisitive look.

Echo was watching the scene from a few steps back, ever-shifting eyes locked on her children, showing all of the love that she felt for them... how much she loved them, and how proud that she was of them. Her presence here was not especially to make sure they would behave per se - Harmodius would set his own limit as to how close they could get, she felt - but to behold this moment for herself, as a proud mother. She had helped with some of the writing, of course, been the one to answer questions should her youngest be looking for a word with no resources handy. But that work... was all his.

In answer to her son, she nodded.

The young boy turned his attention back to the pale, still figure in front of him then, and flipped the book he held open as precisely the page he needed, a folded corner acting as a pagemarker. He gave one last look over the large, uneven letters as if to make sure everything was still alright before he started reciting. His voice definitively had a song-like quality to it, though untrained. As it was, he preferred writing rather than performing, and that nervousness was betrayed by how his cheeks colored slightly.

"There were once stars in the sky
Bright and clear
Dancing and dancing
Even if clouded

Then a great shadow cast
Darker than night, feel of absence
Stretching, covering all
And there was nothing left

Mortals panicked, screamed, wept
Thought they did not know
It was not only the great sky that was lost
But someone beloved

He will never come again
But He will never be forgotten
His memory kept close
in people's heart"

Thabara

Despite her initial determination to keep silent and leave the stage to her brother, so to speak, Lacrymosa couldn't help it but to whisper the verses along with Kios. An eerie, haunting echo to his clear voice. She knew the words by heart already, of course, as he'd read them to her first, as he so often did.

Ivynian

He listened for many moments after the boy had finished, looking absently out the archways to the black ceilings of that and beyond to other worlds. The lush green of the new growth gardens had no mirror of colour or plays of light, either early greys of dawn or dulcet royals and dusks of evening. There was naught but the artificial luminescence of candles, lamps or mana and godly fuel greater lamps that played in the mists that rose from the grass and waterways.

" ' in people's hearts ' , perhaps"

"Many are the people that remain, but they have more then one heart to their many breasts. But the intention of the line may be the singular weight of the grief. "


"It is good for a start. Very good. You have dealt with mortals some, I should expect, with so many now harbored here and involved in the ritual that was held. With your parents. They are both close to mortal hearts. "

"If not too troublesome, young lord, I should like some saying of ...immortal grief. Your ley calls directly only the whims of mortals, whose fear and grief are great indeed. But brief....brief is their memory as the lives of stone and rock. As flowing water from mouth to the fanned fingers of the delta outspread to the ocean....so river's end and die and things are lost to the expanse of nameless.....nameless oceans. As with he...."

Zero Dream

The boy was slightly nervous at the growing silence, that much was apparent - in the way the side of his fingers curled against the spine of the tome he held, and by the way he fidgeted about a bit, one hand leaving the tome to grasp on his sister's, though not once did he raise his voice to interrupt it. It was only when Creation's spoke once more that his attention returned fully to the scene in front of him.

A mistake, or maybe it wasn't one, but... he was doing good. He had liked it. It was reassuring in so many ways. "Thank you. Crys helped lots." Even if she had not realized it... she had. It was her tears that had given him drive to write, and she had been perhaps the most honest critic - there had been many drafts that she disliked.

If it wasn't good enough for Grief herself, it certainly was not good enough for anyone else either, be the Lord of All, or mortals that mourned the loss of something... someone they had taken for granted.

The godling went silent, again, and listened... though he was not quite sure he was grasping the totality of what Harmodius was telling him. Maybe he did not understand everything, but he was listening. He could do that, at the very least. Akakios had heard something similar before... Gianfar had said that mortals needed to write books in order to remember things as those who died took their secrets with them.

There were mortals now, mortals he knew, either only by sight or more closely as they were close and beloved to his parents. These mortals would not be there forever. Those who lived now would not be there forever. They would die, each and every one of them, in either close or distant future - it was the way things were, and he had never questioned it. But that meant that they would bring the things they knew with them. Their knowledge. The events that had happened in the past, and in the present.

The boy came closer, gently tugging his sister along with him, his grip loose enough so that she could easily pull away if she wished. "...You don't want them to forget." He said, softly, looking up at Harmodius, his hand finally leaving his sister's to reach for Creation's instead. "I won't let them." The traits of his small face were pulled in determination.

Echo had continued on listening from where she was standing further away, making no move to stop her son's advancing, though it surprised her that he did so and reached out so eagerly, and with no one prompting him to do so but himself. She, after all, knew how shy her youngest boy was.

Perhaps...

Perhaps that meant he was slowly coming out of his shell, so to speak.

It did not stop her heart from being heavy, though - she had wished she could have been able to help them out more, but she had not gotten to know Lucius enough to answer everything. And the one who might have had...

Well.

Maybe, had she been alone with Creation, she might have asked - asked if he knew anything about what had happened to the man she loved. But... this was not the place nor the time for it. Not in front of the children, and certainly not while the moment was their own.

Thabara

Crys smiled a little when her brother's hand slipped into hers, and he said she'd helped. She didn't really quite agree with him though. She certainly liked words and the rhythm of verse and rhyme, but she was no good with creating them herself. But it was nice to hear Kios say that, just as it was nice that he'd always come to her first when he'd written up a new draft. Some had felt right, and some … less right. And something seemed to be missing still, though she hadn't been able to place her finger on it, so she'd said nothing. Kios was the wordsmith, not she.

She was …

What was she?

Hm.

She let herself be tugged along, a little unsure and apparently lost in thought. She hadn't prepared anything, no words, no rhymes. Of the three of them she was probably the one least like their father, and most like their mother. Emotional. Impulsive. Ritual and form meant little to her.

Immortal grief …

Kios had gotten it wrong, she thought, when she listened to his words. She had been there when the Sky was gone, had wept with their father and everyone else at the time, when shock and disbelief had washed over her like a wave. The sense of immense loss. But she, better than anyone, knew how hard – maybe impossible even – it was to mourn for something abstract and unknown to her. Something, someone, she 'd never seen, never known, had no real concept of, but only been told about.

She herself might be the key, but she wasn't aware of that.

„I think,“ she said quietly, her voice sounding a little hoarse and rough at the edges as it always did, „I think he means the grief of the gods ...“ Your grief, her empty eye sockets seemed to say, as she raised her head to 'look' at Harmodius. Hearing someone's voice was usually enough for her to turn her head into the correct direction, at the correct angle – as long as they were humanoid in form, at least. „Even papa cried.“ He'd made no sound, but she'd tasted the tears he'd shed. Underworld's tears, heavy as lead, and cold as ice, with the metallic taste of mercury. They'd left her craving for more.

More than anything, though, she wished to understand.

Ivynian

" It is the nature of mortal flesh, as it ages and withers to forget many things. As vitality leaves it, as the blood slows and time wears the quickness from limb and heart , the mind and soul become thin...translucent glass through which the deeds of the years of toil show clear as wicked or righteous. But it is not memory.....it is like a play for judges to see. Memory....it can be controlled, fabricated. Minds are powerful, with or without science. Knowledge....Survivors can write histories that forget travesties or record them. But it is all left to the righteous hands. No....it is not that I am afraid they will forget. It is that I cannot. I am not mortal, though I wear flesh. I am not finite, though I tether and order bindings on me of name and chain. "

"When all things Faded, it was not my direct will that brought it to be. But....We....failed. This is Our greatest failing, and never before have We known this ....there is no word for it. That Nameless.....Unbound...We have Eaten our own son, and he is Nevermore. That something great and once flawless has been brought low and to be not again...I had hoped that something new...fresh...that those who had watched with clear eyes and innocent mouths could name this thing for all time. Could find a word in all the depths of their lone wisdom to name the new thing and have it known. "


He did not move still, so as not to startle them as he spoke, except that tears dark with ashes from one eye and glimmering clear from the other beaded on his lashes.

"To name a thing is to know it better, to control it better. And I am not the only who knew Lucius. Other immortals will seek something to call this filicide that ended friend...lover...traitor...his many roles...fairest banner about us all that inspired dreams and inventions, loves and curses. "

"Given proper grief....proper lament...then records and other things may follow. When Words are given....links can be added to the chains of the heart so that it may beat again and shiver the new metal. New stories come when others are finished. "

Zero Dream

The young boy listened, intently, silently, captivated by the words spoken and the images they awoke in his mind. Many a child would have lacked the attention level to do so, but not this one. He listened, platina and gold eyes wide and never once leaving the Eldest until he was done speaking. This awoke a few more questions in him, about this Fading he spoke of and many other things that eluded his young mind, but it did not feel right to voice them straight at the moment. He felt rather embarrassed to have guessed wrong, and would probably apologize later, but... this had never entered his mind.

He had never really though that not being able to forget could be as bad, if not worse, than forgetting. It just had never occured to him to look at things this way. And all he was hearing and understanding now...

... Lament was not quite sure what he was supposed to say. What words would soothe Creation's pain. Or even if there existed words at all to do so.

The boy gave his sister a brush of warning before climbing on the side on the raised plaftform, by Harmodius' side, and leaned against him, arms closing around his waist in a hug, his book forgotten at the bottom of the steps.

It was the only thing he could think of, and in lacks of words, he remained silent. Actions could speak just as much, perhaps sometime more, than words, he knew.

Thabara

Crys listened just as intently, perhaps even more so, as sound and voice and words were what she naturally focused on, with no sight to distract her. Some of it went straight over her head, just as a great many of her father's monologues had (who was also fond of using words too complicated for her to grasp) – but some of it she understood rather well, sympathetic as she was when it came to her own domain.

She rocked back on her heels, letting go of her brother's hand and wrapping her arms around her own chest, not noticing the small moan which escaped her throat as tears began to well in her own 'eyes'. Small pools of crystal clear liquid in the dark of her hollows.

To not only have lost his child – and she did indeed keep imagining Lucius to be a child, just as she and her brothers – but to be the cause of his death. For that child to be gone gone, even beyond her father's reach. Not only that, but he'd been something beautiful and special to everyone else. Friend to some. The terms lover and traitor did not quite make sense to her yet.

She rocked forward, shifting her weight to her toes, and that was when Kios lightly brushed against her side, indicating that he was leaving. It startled her, a little, her head perking up. Where to?

She listened closely to his steps as he ascended the stairs, the sounds … Oh, she thought. Oh! She hurried after her brother, not quite running, but close enough, and very nearly bumped into the pair, having misjudged her own speed and the distance some. Being less considerate than her younger brother, and definitely not one to care about tact, she simply clambered upon Harmodius' lap, and then reached for his face. Curiously her fingers ran across the tear-like markings, touching the tears themselves.

They were different from each other, she noticed almost right away, intrigued. „It's alright to cry,“ she whispered, to both of them. „It makes you feel better. A little?“ That was something she could do, she figured, leaning her head against the Elder's chest, her own tears finally overflowing. She could go meet everyone, they could cry together, and make them feel better in the end. It seemed like a good idea to her.

Ivynian

Harmodius slowly lifted both hands to rest at the small of each youthful back. Careful supports lest nearby mothers find reason to feel their goslings endangered. " It does for many. "



"Shapeless, reaped of flesh and bone
gleaned of form and blood, alone
never more to lift eyes and stars to skies
never, till voices are Eaten and destiny dies.
Empty are coffers where corpses lay
and favorless the lip and crown of those who pray
All that glitters has gone cold as never fated eyes foretold."

It was closer to a chant, sonorous and even, and the sounds of the voices echoed into and through the white rock of the room. The black of the outside felt filtered in while it lasted. The fountains less giggling and the stone ungleaming until the words ceased and then slowly the shadow passed and the place wakened again.

"It is my folly. What cruelty that asks innocence to name a thing that it should never know? But your efforts have comforted me. Proud, worthy words, worthy tears shed on behalf of the unknown. "

Zero Dream

Echo found herself stepping closer - not much so in fear for her children, but simply because it seemed to be the thing to do. Purple lips were pressed into a thin line - likewise, it seemed, she was not exactly sure what to day... or what to do. She figured that, if their presence so close bothered the Eldest, he would let them know. After all, some things were better learned by experience.

In the end, though, she settled to sit at his side, folding the bottom of her robe into her lap so it would not take up space or end up into the water. This... this was something she could only hope she would never experience for herself. The pain... must have been unbearable.

"We are here for You, my Lord." She finally said, with a nod. Her. Her own children. And all of his other children as well, as no matter what... he could be considered father to them all. Music did not smile - could not find it in her, especially not after those words - but her support she could give.

Akakios did not actually cry often - it was nothing he tried to hide or repress, but simply something that wasn't really common, in spite of his realm of influence. Harmodius' words, however... They pulled a string in him, seemingly grapping at his little heart and refusing to let go. This... This was the kind of things he should be doing. Writing. Just like that.

He should aim to make people feel exactly what he felt at that very moment. Eventually. One day.

The youngest clung onto Creation's waist a little tighter - aside one sob, however, his tears were silent ones.

Thabara

A shiver ran down Lacrymosa's spine upon his words, and her head perked up as if she'd just … seen something. When the effect of the chant wore off, she leaned against Creation's chest once more, but there was an oddly happy expression upon her face. Though happy, perhaps, was not the correct way to put it. Content, more like. Satisfied.

Her mother's proximity was tempting, yet the little goddess remained where she was. She rather liked this place, this person. A little like her father, it felt to her, only warmer, more comfortable. And possibly taller?

She yawned, and when she felt unobserved (she never was able to tell though), she brought her tear-stained fingers to her lips, giving them a curious lick. She always was curious as to what others' tears tasted like – her own were bitter.

Ivynian

" There is no twist of time when I do not feel those that remain and know comfort. Hearing voices and seeing the shimmers of life through each fiber, the whispers of names as all come and go. I am glad of it, Lady Echo. That there are young names again, young lives, and you are kind to let them so near. To allow them to speak with me. "

It would not be so were he otherwise. Destruction certainly had not had the honour of the children, let alone even the mother. He was careful not to move his hands from where they were placed, more careful of his own clawed fingers should the children move of their own volition.

The tears were individual in flavour as they were in texture. The ashen was odorless, but
flavoured pungently with the sticky sweet sulfur and bile of death that was nearing to the tattered end of dusty age and bone. The clear was cleaner then water, tingling and fresh on the tongue as no other nectar. It was the freshest rain, full of life and cycles but cool and new as having known no other being and touching no pollutants. Flawless.

Thabara

„Papa did not allow?“ Crys inquired, curiously. It did sound like him, at least. Just as he was cold to the touch, he could be cold to people, forbidding all the things that were fun. Never to her, though, as she rarely wandered off on her own. But her older brother Soto had complained LOTS.

She raised her fingers once more, intrigued that the tastes were so entirely different from each other. Finally, she brought her right back to her lips. She definitely liked that one better, she decided. It felt … closer, reminding her of the funeral pyres she'd attended..

„I can come speak with you again,“ she offered generously. It wouldn't be a problem while her father was away.

Zero Dream

"I am glad..." Music said, then looked up again. Had the others have not... ? She knew of at least Beryl who had children of their own... but she had not yet been able to meet them. Only knew of their names and influences. Come to think of it, Wind herself she had not properly seen in such a long time. And there was that little girl at the ritual, though she did not know the parents. And Rio and Adi, technically.

She said nothing to disapprove Lacrymosa's statement, in fact, her lips curled upward in an amused smile. even as her eyes displayed a certain sadness. It... would not be beyond Nergal, though she had known none of it if it was the case.

Always so bound by rules and protocol... And strict, in a way. But in the same vein, she could likely be considered too lax.

So different, and yet... Perhaps it was exactly those differences that binded them.

She reached out with her hand to caress the side of her daughter's face, the gesture having obvious affection. "They are very good company indeed, my little ones. Indeed a blessing." She was not sure what she could have done if she had not had them in her life at the moment.

"Me too~ !" The boy at his side chimed in, raising his head to look at Harmodius again, eyes still wet with tears. He really liked him, he decided - maybe he'll write more, too...

The more time passed, the less the boy seemed to be shy about sharing his written works with others, it seemed. After all, people liked what he wrote, and the attention was motivation enough. Thus, the youngest was slowly starting to come out of his shell. "Will write more for you ?"

Ivynian

"As your parents approve and allow, you are welcome to find me. Any of you. Though often my work is quiet and strange....perhaps boring to young minds. But You may bring any writing you like, Akakios. Or drawings and crayons. Or songs, riddles, questions or makings of whatever your imagination brings to your minds. "

"But for this first meeting and effort, I thank you both...composer and muse, brother and sister. Your works will often go hand and hand."

Though not ever grief is sung, nor every lament made in true grief. Lessons for later, and the fickle turns of will and emotion.

Zero Dream

Parent's approval ? Heh. More like, come up with a good excuse and just the right pair of innocent eyes to wriggle his way out of possible trouble.

Akakios, it seemed, was very good at both of those things. And he also made little use of either, due to his most often than not calm demeanor, which means it worked most of the time.

But then, as Harmodius went on, he perked up again, his curiosity having been picked. "What you do ? m'sure it's not boring." Oh, he wanted to know, yes he did, peering at the Eldest with wide, curious eyes.

Echo said nothing, but both the look in her eyes and the grin that crossed her lips were tell-tale enough that Harmodius had, most likely, just gotten started with the questions.

Her tailstrings slid back and forth, tips falling into the water of the fountain without a care.

Thabara

Lacrymosa's lips pulled into a pout, for but a moment. She could not read, nor write. Writings and crayons were of little use to her. That, and 'quiet' works did indeed mean they would be boring, at least to her. She was soothed soon enough, however, when she was called Akakios' muse. She had no idea what it meant, exactly, but she rather liked it nonetheless.

„I made a cat of clay,“ she announced proudly, though a little randomly – mostly because she didn't want her brother to steall all the attention. „Without eyes,“ she added.

She leaned into her mother's caress, and – after a moment's contemplation – decided that was where she wanted to be now. This man was nice, but her mom was her mom, and just like every time after she had Cried, she felt herself craving for her comfort. However, she didn't want to leave Harmodius just like that (he was sad enough already!), so she rose and aimed a kiss at the tip of his nose before she clambered over into her mother's embrace. It ended up somewhere on his right cheek, but that was okay too.

Ivynian

" Ah? " Hands were rare enough, or hugs, but kisses from small lips or such sudden affections were just unheard of. But the girl was shifting to her mother. " Sculpture is fine a medium and expression. If you wander you may find the walls are carved with many figures, bipedal and otherwise. Do you prefer beasts without eyes? There are many that do not need them, and hunt or dwell by other means more efficient in their environ. "

He looked down to the boy, " I Dream, and send these images and things far off as through my arms or legs to fingers and nails, " he stretched out his now freed hand as though to illustrate. " Where then they grow from blood and life of my own into their own fabric. New places, new beings, bright and untainted and unknown."

Zero Dream

The goddess moved, just slightly, to allow space for her daughter to settle in her lap, visibly very amused indeed by the Eldest's reaction. "My, if she is already so charming... Then I am doomed, am I not ?" Her tone was light, slightly teasing even, her hand resting against her daughter's cheek once more. Such interactions made sense - after all, Lacrymosa could not see the light in her mother's eyes, or the smiles she gave her.

The young boy, for his part, was also apparently very amused, at least if the sudden, yet rather subdued giggle that came out of him was of any indication. Ahaha, Harmodius was looking all wierd like Uncle Ankou did when Auntie Cosine was around~~ !

The answer to his question, however, was enough to get Lament to focus once more. "'s not boring." How could anyone think that ? It sounded very, very interesting. "...I like to see, one day. If you don't mind."

The Invisible Couch

Crys snuggled quietly against her mother's form, unaware of both amusement and embarrassment her innocent act had caused. „I know the carvings,“ she announced, once she'd nested comfortably. In fact she never grew tired of exploring them. It was one of her favorite pastimes when she was bored and had nothing else to do. They were, like, pictures that even she could 'see', after all. „But, you made them too big,“ she added her complaint. „I can't reach all the way up.“ And there wasn't always a mortal or aoide around to conveniently lift her up so she could explore all of the reliefs.

That it might be herself who was possibly too short still, didn't quite occur to her.

„Mommy,“ she asked, after a little while, „are there really beasts that don't have eyes?“ Not that she doubted Harmodius' words, but it was always good to get a second opinion. She could ask Ishum later, maybe. He certainly knew about all sorts of critters.

Ivynian

"They are made to the scale of Our stature of old. Long ago the gods wore greater forms, taller and more fantastic then those born of mortal understanding that we all wear now. It was only when visiting the planes of mortals that such skins were taken on, but now the Reborn know little else, and so it is natural to them. "

"We can only be what we know, after all."

"And you may come and see whenever you have the time and inclination, young lord. "

Zero Dream

"Of course." Echo answered her daughter's question eagerly. "But I am not sure what their names are. We should ask Ishum if he knows of such beasts, hmm ?"

One ear perked, showing that she was also keeping attention to what Harmodius was saying. Times long gone... She remembered little of such. Perhaps in some ways it was for the best. Her gaze remained on her daughter, a smile tracing it's way on her face.

"Maybe there is even beasts out there with no nose ?" She pondered aloud, giving her daughter's a light poke.

Akakios, for his part, was much more focused on Creation than on his mother and on his sister. "Big like...." The boy paused, thinking for a moment. "Like... Bigger than Uncle Tian Yue ?" Tian Yue was the tallest person he knew. Or maybe Harmodius was. He'd have to see them together to know for sure.

Something suddenly dawned on him - with his sister over with his mother, that left Harmodius' lap quite open... and the little boy quickly wriggled himself in the very space his sister had left.

Thabara

„Then I need to figure out how to grow bigger,“ the young goddess decided upon Harmodius' words, her lips forming a pout. „So that I can reach everywhere, and see everything.“ Her mom was big, and her dad even bigger, and all their servants were too, so it couldn't be that hard, she figured. Besides, she was a child still, or so aunt Jess had told her, and children grew.

„Mh-hm,“ little Crys agreed with her mom, a giggle escaping her lips a moment later, when her mother tapped her nose. Ishum knew a great deal about all sorts of critters, and he never grew tired of sharing his knowledge, a fact the blind goddess greatly appreciated.

Ivynian

"Tian Yue....well, would you mean he as a his human seeming...or as his truer form? Great Serpent Shield and guardian between the once-realms of gods and mortal kind? Have you seen his scales? they used to shine as stars once did of old. Perhaps he no longer feels like shining. There are no stars to reflect, after all. But he is not the greatest of the Dragons. "

"Chien Tang was the largest, the warlord, and yet smaller then the Empress of Old. The Empress was Gaia, now called Kishara. She wears a very small form, but the whole of the Yggdrasil is she. Every world and earth that is walked upon is her flesh. What do you think of that, for size in small packages? "

"Have you met Kishara? I have heard whispers of her kindness and sadness, and yet also of fear of her wrath. Mother's are like that. "

It was gentle teasing. Speaking in soft conspiratorial tones of the nearby woman to her children of temperament and tempests. He grew smaller, form shifting as he spoke, until his seeming matched the young gods in body. His voice remained a betrayal of greater stature.

Zero Dream

"Nuh-uh." He had to admit, small lips turning to a pout. He'd only been told that his uncle was a dragon, and never seen it. He certainly felt like one, though, and kind of looked like one, with those horns and his tail - he'd seen pictures in the books of the library, old pictures from ancient tomes that he had to handle very, very carefully less he damage them.

And then he spoke of Kishara, and his eyes went wide. His mind seemed very much blown indeed. "Whoa..." But then how could she be like, a person while being everywhere too ? Was it hard ? Did she feel it when everyone walked on the grass outside ? Many questions formed in his mind, but they were better suited for the goddess herself, should he ever meet her. "Havn't seen her. Will look, though !"

...But hey, Harmodius was getting shorter ! Which was a little funny given what they were talking about, but this proved Creation's point nicely to the young boy. Who did indeed have questions he could ask. "Was mommy really big, too ? And daddy ? And Uncle Ankou ?" The questions came much like water flowed from a waterfall, curiosity without restrain.

Echo's expression indeed held amusement. "It seems to come with the territory, I figure, kindness and wrath both, though far be it from me to think I could outdo the Mother herself." The mention of Kishara, however, seemed to make concern rise in Music. "I have not seen her for a long time..." Her lips pressed into a worried line, even as she moved slender fingers across her daughter's back, knowing the touch brought the blind girl comfort. "But if you get too big, you won't fit in my lap anymore. Or maybe you could be tiny and big depending on how you feel like being, my dear ?" That time would come soon enough, quickly enough. Children, after all, grew. It was what they did. To be honest, Echo was not in a hurry to have it happen. All would unfold in it's own time.

Perhaps she should unleash her upon Harmodius again so she could 'see' what had just happened, and her smile turned slightly impish at the thought. "Oh, Crys~" She said in a sing-song, gently guiding her daughter's hand toward Creation's now much smaller cheek, but stopping close to let her 'find' him herself. Grief did not seem to appreciate when others did all the work for her.

Thabara

Crys listened just as enraptured. This was like one of the stories her mom had read to her, only better! „Will look too!“ she cooed. She definitely wasn't going to let her little brother have all the fun, plus, she had a good idea already, which of the many rooms might be Kishara's.

She contemplated her mother's words for a moment, but not for long – she was distracted as soon as her hands were guided to touch upon … Huh, what? She blinked with surprise, her mouth opening to a quiet, round 'oh'. She had already noticed the difference in height, due to he voice, but this …! Promptly, both hands latched onto both sides of Harmodius' face, curiously exploring it anew.

„How did you do that?“ she demanded to know, after she was done.

Ivynian

" For I am ever age'd on
from deepest pitch when all began.
To further on in disrepair,
when countless eons Time has spanned,
pursued at last to final end,
And tired feet put last to rest,
What is the Crown then known and spent.
And forth a cycle new be blessed. "

He spoke as he was explored again, holding still but for speaking. The little hands were better sized now to features, less foreign and strange.

"Only those places with no air in which to make sound lived ago without music. "

"Only those places wholly within the Lost Sky or without him...without of Kishara, were without Nirgali the Underworld. Without a place for the waiting dead. "

"The guide who gathers and consoles the weary roads to the Long Halls often took the form of those whom were gathered. Mortals and immortals find comfort and are more willing to follow those with familiar shape. "

Zero Dream

...But why was mommy so small now next to nearly everyone else he had seen if she used to be so tall and... everywhere ?

Strange. How strange indeed. He left the way clear to allow Crys to explore all she wished, but his eyes did not leave Creation, eyes still wide with interest. He called his daddy something different, too, but that did not strike him as odd. He remembered that gods had many names - didn't Hamodius himself have so many, whispered to him by mortals and deities alike on that one day that was forever burned into his young memory, the day where he had emerged from the glided cocoon ?

Hm.

"I understand... I think." The young god said, brow shifting slightly in thought. "Mommy was everywhere because... music is everywhere ? Or almost everywhere ?" And Kishara was everywhere because the ground was everywhere. Obviously. Beside places were they was no ground, but he had yet to see such. Even the biggest holes had a bottom.

Echo, for her part, supported her daughter the best she could, to allow the little girl her exploration without having her topple over into the fountain. Even if she would likely be delighted to play in the water some, she knew very well that it would only end in all of them being rather wet, and she would not impose such on Creation, even if she herself would not mind being wet.

Familiar shapes... She had to admit that he was right. There was comfort in being the way she was now, the only way she knew and remembered. Certainly there had once been more, much more, but she remembered little. In a sense, her children were blessed with being able to learn the whole world with open minds that had no ancient shards of memories buried deep within, no past that refused to divulge it's secrets. For the longest time, she was not sure if she knew where she had to go without knowing where she had once been.

Music liked to think she had managed well enough so far, and would continue to do so.

Thabara

Crys made a small, 'hrmph'-ing noise, crossing her arms in front of her chest, relying wholly on her mother's support to keep her balance. She liked the words and the form, but it certainly wasn't helpful, if it was meant to be a reply to her demand at all. All it seemed to tell her, was to grow up the slow way, and become more experienced, meh.

But with Harmodius being so small now … „You know,“ she decided to make a truly generous offer, „if you are not busy doing Important Things, or maybe you're bored of them, you can come play with us. I'm sure papa wont mind.“

Ivynian

" We can only come to understanding of what we think in full upon. "

"If your mother does not mind, either. Nergal is not the only authority over you. "

 

[A Wandering Esper]

Zero Dream

"Yes ! Can play !" And so Akakios was distracted away from his many questions, in typical child-like fashion. "Can play... Hmmm..." What would Harmodius like to play ? He thought hide and seek, but that wouldn't be really fair for Crys, at least not in an unfamiliar setting. "What should play, Crys ?"

When in doubt, ask for elder sister wisdom. A fine plan indeed.

That answer made a giggle, light and musical, come for music, who was moving her arms about to support her daughter as much as she could.

"As long as they do not interrupt you in something important." Came the answer.

Thabara

„Mama never minds,“ Crys declared, unaware it might have something to do with the fact her games were usually of the rather quiet (though messy) kind.

„Tag?“ She suggested. It was a fun game, and not much of a problem for her as long as she knew the surroundings well. „Or something with water. And mud.“ She smiled widely. Mud was clearly one of the most fantastic things on earth she'd come across yet, much to the chagrin of her caretakers. Oh, maybe they could go gather worms and the like for her jar?

Ivynian

" Mud? HOw about something more...pliable. It would keep shape and yet be moldable. It is called...'play dough'. "

In speaking of it, a host of cannisters in all colours, tools for molding and shaping, appeared on the nearby swath of open floor. " A game fitting for us. A game of making, shaping, of whims and whimsy. Of cooperation. Let's make our own worlds, here on the marble. Whatever we can imagine "

Zero Dream

Mud ? He was not quite a much a fan of it as his sister was. He had his moments, mostly when he was alone with her, but anything that made him too dirty in the process was rarely on top of the list of his favorite things to do. It always took a little coaxing. He was, easily, the neatest of the three children.

He had also been the prime offender of forgetting his crayons everywhere all over the floor, which proved that neatness did not always go with order

The small, brightly colored plastic tubs caught his attention, eyes going wide. Where did they come from... ?! So many seemed to be able to make things come and go away. Maybe ill't be the same for him later ? As it was, however, Lament was not yet completely aware of his own power, and neither did he really feel the urge to explore it. There was so much more to learn, which almost constantly held his attention. "Hm..."

He stood then stepped down to sit on the marble floor nearer to the play-dought, knowing well that his sister would take his hand in passing if she wanted, or would be able to follow him by the sound of his steps. The purple-rimmed jar was snatched quickly and it's contents emptied on the ground before the container was discarded and the dought picked up in his small hands.

To create... What did he want his world to look like ? His expression turned thoughtful as he squished the play-dought in between his fingers. He liked this much better than mud, he decided. It wasn't dripping everywhere, and it looked like it would keep it's shape better.

Echo smiled, her expression turning amused as the tubs took shape. Alien memories of playing with such thing for hours on ends crossed her mind, but they were truly hers'. Not really. It was tempting to go experiment this for herself, but she stayed put, folding one leg over the other. To any bystander, she probably looked like she was the sole adult taking care of the children, and the thought amused her even more, the tune of her wings turning light, almost like chimes being gently rocked by the wind.

"What are you going to make ?" She asked both her children, interest evident.

"Hmmmmmmmm..." Was the only answer she would get from her son.

Thabara

Had Crys known of her brother's thoughts, she would have protested fervently. She actually liked how mud drip-dropped everywhere, clung to your skin and soaked the fabric of your clothes, and was just cold and – well, not uncomfortable, not to her.

She wiggled out of her mother's hold and followed Kios curiously, as something certainly seemed to have caught his attention. But even before … she could't quite figure if she had smelled something, heard something, or otherwise perceived it – but there was the sense that something in their surroundings had changed.

This …? Her nimble fingers ran across the surface of several containers, before she picked one. They all seemed the same anyway. Was it this color thing again? Tentatively she plopped one of the containers open, taking a sniff and a lick first before she dropped the contents into her little hand, her expression seeming skeptical more than anything.

Hrm, this was somewhat like clay, but not as moist, and without the sandy texture. More like cookie dough, just not as tasty. She had worked with clay before, but it tended to dry up and grow brittle after a while – this stuff, however, seemed like it wouldn't.

„Secret,“ she muttered upon her mother's inquiry, turning her back to her so that she would not see. She explored the molds and tools for a while, but ultimately chose to ignore them, working with just her nimble little fingers. She didn't go for any of the other containers either, as colors didn't matter to her.

„Done!“ she announced all too soon, more experienced in shaping and sculpting than her younger brother was. She turned, but was clearly hiding something behind her back. Of course, Kios would have seen what she made, but hopefully neither Harmodius nor Mom.

Ivynian

The shrunken Eldest moved with the young gods to the floor, pleasant and interested in their doings. He idly set to uncapping the various canisters for their easy use. When it was done, he picked a random colour and idly pushed off pieces and rolled them between his palms to make rudimentary snakes.

At Lacrymosa's declaration he looked up, then smiled, " Given reign of creation, you choose gifts for others instead of pure self indulgence? Well then, what have you made? "

Zero Dream

Akakios did indeed see what his sister was working on, but the boy said nothing - continuing to squish his ball idly in thought, as well as looking over to his mother. Someone had to make sure mommy wasn't going to go try and peek, after all.

Of course, the goddess had no intention to do such, not until Crys told her it was alright to look, but Akakios' reaction was too amusing to truly pass up, and so she gave a mock-pout, much like a child that had been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

Aha. Caught.

With that done, his focus went back on the play-dought. Crys had already finished her things, but all he had were long snakes.

Through...

He smushed some parts back together, and began making what loosely resembled a cat. Crys liked cats. Well, at least she'd made a few in mud before.

"Oh ? What did you make, dear ?" Echo asked in turn.

Thabara

Crys blinked, seeming a little surprised. Was it so unusual to think of making something for others first? She'd never really thought about it.

„For mom,“ she announced, presenting the flower first, while still hiding the other object she'd made behind her back. She'd been so focused on making her gifts, that she'd lost track a little of where exactly she was, but the never ceasing hum of her mother's wings proved to be a steadfast guide. Her toes searched for the edge of the first step, and once she'd found it, she hopped up playfully, holding out her gift and waiting for her mother to take it. „Flower,“ she said. „Pretty, like you.“ It was not modeled after any real flower, but had all the feats required for it to be easily recognized as one. Only … the color was a little bit odd.

She gave her mom a quick hug, and then descended the stairs again, hopping them one-foot, two-feet, one-foot, like a game of hopscotch. „For you,“ she said to Harmodius, holding out her other gift. It looked somewhat like an octopus crossed over with a jellyfish. „It has many arms, for huggings,“ she announced. „For when you feel sad. Or lonely.“ She pondered that for a moment. „Of course, you could just come visit?“

Ivynian

He bowed over the octopus as he received it, careful that the many doh limbs were supported in his small hands. It wouldn't do for any of her work to break off. He held it up before his eyes, considering the creature for a moment, and then it's doughy flesh smoothed, glistened with life-like realism. The tentacles came to life and wrapped pleasantly about his wrists and fingers, then let go and the creature swam up in the air as easily as water. An air-jelly.

"Your invitation is very sweet. I may, sometime, when it is approved.. "

He gave a gentle nod in the direction of Echo, "Sometimes parents prefer warning before someone like me just...visits. Whatever my state of loneliness or otherwise."

Zero Dream

Akakios worked on his dought cat, the tip of his tongue sticking out a little as he focused, trying to make it as perfect as possible, as good as he could have it be. The cat was made and remade many times, and unlike his sister, Lament used the multiple plastic tools put at his disposition, using the blue dought to give his cat spots. A purple and blue cat definitively was not a very natural thing, but the color scheme was consistant.

He finished just in time to look up and watch the jellyfish come to life, eyes going wide as he let out a gasp of surprise. That... that was AWESOME ! "Crys ! It moves !" He called out for his sister, but she had probably had heard it do so, felt the movements as it cut through the air. Most of Lacrymosa's senses were much more potent than his own, but the boy had yet to realize that.

Akakios looked over to his mother's flower, and nodded in appreciation. Finally, he scooped up his own creation and handed it to her. "I made a kitty !" Crys could have it first, then he would give it to Creation, too. Mommy always found the presence of cats comforting, maybe he would, too ? Maybe it would make Harmodius feel a little less lonely when none of them where around.

Echo moved at last, shifting to kneel in front of the fountain so that her daughter could reach her easily, and she carefully held the flower in her palm. It was not one she recognized - probably was not meant to be any kind of flower in particular - and the colors were definitively a little out there, but it was beautiful all the same. "Pretty like you as well, my dear." She leaned over to kiss her daughter's forehead. "Thank you. I will keep it in my room with Akakios' writings, if you like ? Or would you prefer that it be displayed somewhere else ?"

When Creation spoke, the tilted her head to look at him. "Feel free to come whenever you like. At the very least, my aoidei would likely be around and able to let you know if we are buy or not." She was glad that he liked her children, and that they liked him in turn.

Thabara

„You could put it in the garden?“ the young goddess suggested upon her mother's inquiry. After all that was were flowers belonged, even if they'd been made, not grown, right? But clay sort of melted away, once it rained, was it the same with this stuff? To put it inside seemed safer, and to have it together with Kios' writings was … special, somehow. Too bad she hadn't heard of paperweights yet.


Her small lips formed a quiet oh when she felt her critter's tentacles touch upon her skin briefly. It felt similar to what was hiding beneath the dark surface of the pool in her room, but not as wet. How did he do that? Nothing she'd ever made, be it clay, cookie dough or otherwise, had ever come to life. This was amazing!! She turned her head, seemingly following the air-jelly's ascent, though even she herself could not have told by what means.


„If you feel lonely, you just come,“ Crys insisted. „And if mom and dad don't …“ She struggled with the word 'approve' for a moment, it was one of their father's favorites for sure (well, disapprove, actually). „If they don't like, I'll howl and cry and scream until they say its okay.“ She stomped her little feet on the ground, the way her jaw set stubbornly and her hands rested at her hips making it very clear that she considered herself a force to be reckoned with.

Her stance dissolved quickly enough though, as Kios presented his creation to her, her little fingers exploring it gingerly. „Ohhh, it has stripes!“ she announced, noticing the small differences in texture.

Ivynian

"Well...why would I want to go play someplace with a girl who throws a fit when something does not go as she would will it?"

"Godly as that sort of behavior may, in some cases, be. Depending ....aspects... "


"Now....if you would sing. If you woudl sing, instead of scream, that would be a day to visit and dance. "

Zero Dream

Akakios very much agreed with his sister's sentiment on the matter, but his methods were much more subtle than screaming. Most of the time, anyway. Lament was not above throwing a tantrum, especially when his sister was leading the fray.

"Will give kitty to Harmodius. After you done." He whispered to his sister in a nearly conspiratorial manner, so low that it looked like only his lips moved and he was not actually speaking. He knew Crys would hear him just fine. "To keep company. Kay ?"

Echo frowned a bit, clearly about to say something about that, but she was beaten to it by Creation himself, oddly enough. In a way, perhaps the point would carry better if it came from him.

"He is right, you know, my dear. Your voice sounds so much better when you are singing." Echo mused, thinking of a song her daughter knew. Ah, this should do...

"Five little kites flying high in the sky, said, "Hi" to the cloud as it passed by, said, "Hi" to the bird, said "Hi" to the sun.."

Thabara

„'Kay,“ she whispered to Kios, handing back the kitten with care.

„Mmmmh,“ she made stubbornly, pouting a little at Harmodius' words, her delicate eye brows still pulled down in a frown. Yet she had to admit to herself that he was right. It wouldn't be as much fun to visit her two aunts, or Jessica and her children, if she were to find them acting that way upon her arrival. Plus, it seemed highly unlikely her parents would disapprove of him visiting anyway. The fact that adults, especially couples, occasionally required periods of privacy, so far had eluded her.

All those musings, however, were put aside once Echo began to sing. The little goddess adored her mother's singing, and it was a song she knew, even! One of those aunt Cos had taught her.

„Said, "Hi" to an airplane--oh what fun!“ She continued cheerfully, clapped her hands and twirled playfully. While she certainly had inherited her mother's excellent hearing, her singing voice was lacking a little. Not only because she was a child still – she was fully capable to keep the tune alright – but there was a hoarse … brokenness to her voice, a slightly raspy quality as if she'd been screaming, or crying for great lengths of time. It always was there, but far less noticeable when she was merely speaking.

„Then 'whish' went the wind,“ she continued, zooming up the nearby stairs as if she was Wind Herself. „And they all took a dive: One, two, three, four, FIVE!“ She hopped down the stairs upon the counting, like a game of hopscotch, jumping the remaining steps all at once upon 'five', beaming.

It was hard to believe this cheerful child would be Grief, and Echo probably could cosider herself lucky – while up on the platform, it had seemed like a moment as if Crys was mischievously considering to jump into the pool with a huge splash instead of back down the stairs. She never did mind having her dress soaked, but usually, everyone else did.

Ivynian

Creation listened, rather then sing. His singing...full singing, was rare; it was not for today so soon after a remembrance of the grief of his son. Not so soon after Watching these two, however, was pleasurable and without a doubt more productive then if he had just returned to work or rest.

He had not had so long in the presence of young, new gods in a long time. He had not worn Youth in a long time. He clapped with Crys' hops from stair to stair, and did not seem any more concerned if she jumped in the water then if the floor should start growing multi-coloured puppies.