Slate and Vythin gently lowered Isaac to the floor before looking at each other. "Well, I must say, that was rather interesting. Not to mention traveling across the breadth of Heimfold in an instant," Slate said.

  "I agree...I wish it didn’t have to come to killing those loggers though," Vythin replied.

  Oh, but it was so much fun, wasn’t it? The Passenger thought.

  Slate shook off the comment in his mind and looked down at Isaac. "Well, the fellow who talked to you mentioned Umbra, did he not?"

  Vythin nodded, "I knew that some of her worshippers let themselves fall prey to their own vices; but I’ve never met someone who was that brutish."

  Slate chuckled, "The Dark Lady - ahh Umbra, what a paradox she seems to be. Simultaneously a goddess, and therefore should be ‘goodly’ and ‘just’, but she also represents passions - even in their most extreme form."

  Vythin lifted Isaac as Yvilli walked in the front door, children in tow. "Oh, you’re back. What happened to Lord Isaac?" she asked.

  "He overspent himself and fell unconscious," Vythin replied.

  Yvilli walked over and took Isaac from Vythin, nodding, "I understand. If you’ll excuse me then, I must tend to my Lord." She carried him to his bedroom and shut the door.

  Very interesting, Isaac’s plant constructs not only have a will of their own, but seemingly opinions also - and an innate desire to protect him. I’m curious if perhaps my creations could be imbued with similar sentience, Slate thought, looking at the children who were holding dolls made from various reeds as the clay cat walked around them.

  Mary ran over and shoved the doll up towards Slate. "Look what we made! Ms. Y showed us how to make dollies!"

  Slate squatted down and examined the creation, Decently put together, and seems to be fairly sturdy. He smiled, "She is quite cute. Excellent work. What’s her name?"

  A quizzical look passed Mary’s face, "I don’t know yet."

  Matthew also came over and shoved his doll into Slate’s face, "I made one too! Mine has a sword!" This doll did indeed have a small ‘sword’ made of sticks woven into one of the hands.

  Slate looked at Matthew, "A mighty warrior indeed! I think a warrior like that should have a proper foe!" Slate took some clay from his pocket and molded it into a monster with teeth and claws, before handing it to the boy. "Why don’t you go play with your new toys."

  Matthew and Mary dashed to the main room and began playing.

  Vythin leaned against the wall, and while watching the children play, spoke to Slate. "Umbra... I’ll admit, I never really venerated her - more of a Caeli worshipper myself. Live free and all that."

  Slate looked at Vythin, "Really? With your background of thievery?"

  Vythin frowned, "I don’t remember telling...right. God of knowledge."

  Slate grinned, "Yes, I know about your background. At least, some of it. A heist against the Royal Vaults in the Kingdom of Cruxia? That is astounding. Did you know you still have a bounty on your head worth several million dreks?"

  Vythin’s eyes went wide, "I didn’t know they wanted me that badly. Remind me never to go back there."

  Slate continued, "She holds domain over chaos, evil, shadow, deception, and a variety of other…negatively attributed aspects of creation. Her followers can be found in any criminal organization; from the most organized and professional thieves guild, to the lowest assassin or brigand."

  Vythin looked downwards, deep in thought.

  Oh, come now, you don’t give The Dark Lady enough credit, Slate. She is far greater than the vices of mortals.

  Be quiet, you. I’m teaching. I don’t need your help discussing the domains of the gods.

  Vythin looked up, "What hand did you play in that massacre back at the river clearing? I know Isaac can’t conjure fire."

  Slate shrugged, "I just provided some extra spectacle with my flames. Isn’t it always beautiful, watching the inferno engulf everything?"

  Oh yes, so beautiful.

  Vythin grimaced, "But you were cackling like a madman. Even if they were willing to apologize and repay in some way, would you have pushed Isaac to kill?"

  "That’s...hard to answer. I do not condone killing unless necessary. However I would be lying if I said that I didn’t want to punish those who had dealt such a grievous blow to an ally, even a new one," Slate replied.

  Vythin sighed, "If it were me in Isaac’s position I don’t think I would’ve done anything different than what he did. I’m worried though - these domains...they are changing us. I did something reckless back at that city within the Starfall Badlands; it was…natural. I only realized after the fact-"

  Slate nodded, interrupting, "That would make sense. The elements of creation, and therefore the domains we now influence, are powerful. I would not be surprised if you became more and more greedy due to your binding to wealth." He patted Vythin on the shoulder, "It’s okay. Change is good. The tradeoff of immense cosmic power for some of your personality is fairly small, yes?"

  Vythin nodded, "I could do so much good with what I can do now. But I don’t want to lose myself completely to these...domains, and how they would change me. I still want to be me."

  Slate sighed, "Then what you should do is focus on something that you used to do prior to being a god. And I would do that thing every day to help ground yourself in your past. Maybe that can stave off more drastic changes."

  Vythin smiled and nodded, "Right then. Thanks for that. I’ll go ahead and cook up some food."

  Slate tightened his grip, "There is something we need to discuss outside."

  Vythin looked puzzled but nodded and followed Slate outside, shutting the door behind him before gesturing for Slate to speak.

  "Somehow Matthew bound himself to a Demon."

  Concern and fear swept across Vythin’s face, "You’re joking, right?"

  Slate shook his head, "He snuck into my room while I was sleeping and...apparently I sleep-talk and was talking about summoning rituals. He made one and bound himself to some Demon named Arglenaut."

  Vythin looked stern, "And why, do tell, were you talking about summoning circles in your sleep?"

  Don’t tell him about me! If you do then he won’t trust you anymore. The Passenger pleaded.

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  Slate cleared his throat, "I’ve had a voice in my head since I was a child. I call him my ‘Passenger’. When I was younger, it was able to take control of my body and make me commit horrible acts…It caused me to hurt some people. But he can’t control my body anymore."

  You’ve screwed it all up! He’s not going to trust you like he used to. Way to go, idiot.

  Vythin backed away slightly, "How do I know that you’re telling the truth?"

  "You’re a god of light. The light can discern truth and see what is hidden. Perform a miracle."

  Vythin closed his eyes and seemed to focus. I really hope this works, Slate thought, worry crossing his mind for a moment. White beads of light streaked with gold flowed from Vythin’s eyes in small rivulets as he opened them and looked at Slate. The Passenger within Slate shrieked as Slate felt a calm wash over him. After a second Vythin’s eyes went back to normal and tears streamed down his face as he stumbled slightly before catching himself.

  He gasped out, "I saw it….You’re not lying. And your Passenger is a Demon. A creature of dark flame and chaos...and desperation...gods above, that was intense.

  I had my suspicions. A Demon eh? That means I can be rid of you, Slate thought to his Passenger.

  But the Passenger did not respond.

  Vythin righted himself, "So how do we deal with Matthew and your Demon possession?"

  Slate stroked his beard, "Umbra holds dominion over Demons - they are her servants after all. So we need to find a cleric or priest of hers. They surely have the means to break a ritual binding."

  Vythin nodded and sat down, "I need a moment. I saw…I could see everything…" He stared at Slate, "I saw all the sins of your past. Every breaking of the laws of man and civility…You've done horrible things, Slate."

  "I know." Slate left Vythin sitting there, and went about gathering the items for a meal. Finally, I can do something about it. I can do something about you.

  But again, no response came.

  Slate and Vythin cooked up a meal and ate with the children, bringing food to Isaac as well, though he was still unconscious, being watched over by Yvilli. Vythin continually glanced over at Slate before shaking his head as if trying to forget what he had seen.

  Slate didn't mind much. What is in the past is behind me, and made me who I am today. What comes next is what defines me.

  As darkness fell the children were ushered off to sleep and the two gods went to bed.

  Slate, for the first night in several Seasons, heard nothing - not even a whisper, from his Passenger.

  The next morning came and the gods, Isaac included having recovered, met in the main room on lush cushions that Vythin had created.

  "I filled in Isaac on everything. Where should we go to find a priest of Umbra?" Vythin asked.

  Slate responded, "We can really go to any town; however I happen to know that her most grand temples are in two locations. One is slightly to the north - Starhold, capital of the Siltar Republic. The other is the Tower of Spies in War Camp, far in the Krekyo Dominion."

  "I am not going to the Krekyo Dominion." Isaac said with vehement disgust.

  Vythin spoke, "Isn’t Starhold also considered one of the information centers of the world? Being home to so many trading companies I’d imagine we could more readily find information there."

  Slate replied, "That is correct! Starhold is the center of the Siltar Republic - every representative from each village, city, or town has a residence there to discuss matters of state. That, and their trade consortiums rival those of the Holy Empire itself."

  "Then it’s settled. Starhold it is. Everyone out of the tree-house. Take everything you made with you," Isaac said, standing as he did so.

  The gods and the children gathered all of their goods and luggage - though sparse it may be, and Isaac gripped the exterior of the tree. Bright green heat raced down his arm and scattered into the tree before it shrank down into a small seed on a tiny patch of dirt. He picked it up and handed it to Yvilli, saying "When we next find a place to set up, plant it." She nodded. The children, Slate, and Yvilli piled into the cart as Vythin shifted into his dragon form, Isaac climbing on his back. Vythin gripped the sides of the cart with his massive claws, and took to the skies - the three gods angling to the north - to Starhold.

  The flight was fast and Slate had his hands full trying to keep Matthew and Mary from leaning too far out to look down. A short while later Vythin slowed and flapped, hovering in place. Slate peeked his head up and saw Isaac had climbed down on top of the cart.

  "Vythin wants to know - should we fly right into the city or land outside and walk in? I’m of the mindset to land out of sight and then walk."

  Slate replied, "Well, the sky-guard will see a dragon on the horizon and most likely come out in full force. We can wait for them to arrive, explain the situation, and see if they grant us entry. But that runs the risk of them just attacking on sight."

  Isaac furrowed his brow in thought, "Right then, we’ll go ahead and land - I don’t want to risk a fight in the sky." He climbed back up and out of sight. A few moments later, the view outside the cart began to slowly turn, as Vythin descended in large circles until the cart shook tremendously; safe on the ground.

  Vythin popped his head in the back of the cart in his human form, "I’ll just pull us along then and the rest of you can stay in?" Slate nodded.

  The cart began to move as Isaac joined Slate and the others in the back of the cart which was becoming cramped. "Yvilli, why did you call me Forest Lord?" Isaac asked.

  Yvilli turned, her face expressionless, "That is the title given to any who hold dominion over the forests. Either Lord or Lady depending on the gender."

  Slate spoke, "That would mean that Caeli would be a Forest Lady?"

  Yvilli nodded, "Yes, she is the most powerful over the domain. However Lord Isaac here is a close second."

  Slate continued his questioning, "Where do you come from?"

  Isaac interrupted, "You don’t know? I thought you were a god of knowledge."

  Slate sighed, "Knowledge is limited Isaac. I only know what is a widely known fact or piece of information. If it is esoteric, archaic, or well-hidden, then I do not know outside of traditional means of finding out."

  Yvilli looked out the back of the cart, wistfully, "I am a soul of the forest. I was once a tree that grew mighty and strong. My roots extended far within my glade, and my branches covered vast expanses. Lady Caeli saw me and took notice, granting me sentience and the ability to leave my tree and travel to others. Wherever the forest grows, I may go."

  Isaac spoke, "But you’re not in a forest. How can you possess the form you are in?"

  Yvilli looked at him with a hint of annoyance, "You, Lord Isaac, made the forest move. Your power created a vessel and called for a servant. I just so happened to be free, and responded to the call." She turned and tousled Matthew’s hair much to his dismay, "I only answered because I am quite fond of children, and your unspoken need for a caretaker resonated with my own desires."

  Ahhh, so even summoned or sentient creatures can resist the call of a god, Slate thought. So some gods cannot create things that have no free will...fascinating implications...my creations seem to follow orders. Slate looked over as the children pet the clay cat which seemed contentedly laying there.

  The rest of the cart ride went smoothly; less than an hour had passed when Vythin yelled, "We’ve made it!"

  There it stood in the distance. The massive capital of the Siltar Republic - Starhold. An enormous fifty foot high wall marked the outer edge of the Capital. Inside, on increasing tiers of the mountain it was built upon were two additional walls the same height. If one were to look from above, it would resemble two intertwined, four-pointed stars Slate recalled from his days at the academy. Vythin pulled the cart to the back of a line of other carts and vehicles - mostly trade caravans - who were waiting to enter the capital.

  A Spriten - the short, fiery race of humanoids - walked in leathers emblazoned with the eight-pointed star emblem with a book. As the line moved forward she reached Slate’s group. "What’s your business in Starhold?" She asked, looking at Vythin - who glanced back at Slate.

  Slate replied, "We are just travelers looking to pay patronage at the temple of Umbra."

  "Right then," the purple flame Spriten said, "You’re going to find her temples all over - but the main complex is up on the top-most level. You’ll need proper attire though, lots of tailors available on the second level."

  Isaac interrupted, "What’s the layout of the city like?" he asked.

  The Spriten replied, "It’s split into three layers. The lower city is where the lower class and more...disgusting professions like tanneries ply their trade. Middle city, middle class. Upper city, upper class."

  Vythin muttered something under his breath that Slate didn’t catch, but this Spriten did, as she cleared her throat, "Make no mistake, class mobility is quite pronounced here. Fortunes change, and it makes sense to have the smellier or filthier professions - and therefore people - at the edges, no?"

  Vythin replied, "Yes, that makes sense. But when was the last time you heard of one of the lower class moving upwards in society?"

  The Spriten chuckled, "You could go up to the third level and ask around! Plenty of folks pulled themselves up. I’d go and ask at The Reshiron League; the best coffee house in the city. I’ve heard that the owner started out as a homeless child. Now he’s one of the wealthiest men in the city!"

  Slate spoke, "Well then, what else must we do to expedite our entry?"

  The Spriten turned to face Slate, "Just need the names, gender - if you have one - and race of each person entering. If you’re bringing items to trade, there is another checkpoint you’ll have to go through."

  Slate began to list, pointing at each person in turn.

  The Spriten jotted down all of the information, "Thank you. No trade goods to declare, I’m going to have you go up the center. Enjoy your stay in Starhold!" The Spriten then walked further down the line that had formed behind Slate’s cart.

  Vythin pulled the cart to the center, where they could see a few other carts pulling away from the apparent trade-good line, and entered through the enormous city gates which stood parted.