I cast my attention around the strange, dry room, even as the other two fleshy beings speak with each other up above. The front of it (judging by the architecture) consists of a striped wall in browns, and, I believe, an exit. It is covered with more of that brown striped material though, so I cannot be positive.

  The two walls of the room to either side of it are covered in the easily-wetted bricks of thin material that the dark-skinned one cared so much about, and the back wall is two-tiered. The first tier is closed off by some thin walls made of the same kind of material as the bricks, and I cannot see up on to the second yer, though it is fenced in.

  I seem to have been transported away from my great nation of Turik, and deposited in this strange dry world of flesh beings. To make a bad situation worse, my body was taken from me as well!

  Though, being able to rid myself of the useless piece of top-flesh is liberating, so I cannot fault whatever phenomenon caused this for changing that.

  The ceiling is a pattern of inset squares in a shallow vault, seemingly as some kind of support, and the floor is stone. The light of this room comes from some flickering orange substance contained in scale-like cups.

  I begin trying to move my body, but cking physical memory, I cannot figure out how to properly bend my limbs. My efforts end up creating an effect not unlike the ceplopods I so hate. Tentacles.

  I shudder, which creates a strange effect where my surface ripples throughout. I cringe from that sensation, and the subsequent distortion of my vision that it causes.

  Focusing on a single leg, I try to replicate natural movement, but before I can succeed, I see some movement from the front of the room, inside of the exit arch. The brown door twists a little on its hinges by the left wall and I begin to see some sourceless light spill through the cracks.

  A brown head peeks through the opening, simir in texture to sand than the door itself. The feminine figure in simirly brown clothes and cloak then stares directly at me for a moment, before slowly coming in.

  The pair on the raised ptform are talking loudly enough with each other, although I have tuned them out, that they cannot hear the brown child's small voice when she speaks to me.

  "Are you a god too?" Hmm, I believe i heard the other two speaking of gods in reference to them and myself, so I would presume that I am a god, at the very least in their eyes.

  "Yes, I am a god. Who are you?" I query the tiny god made of dirt. She has a little ball of sand rolling next to her, on its own. It is as if the ball is alive. It rolls up to one of my feet and bounces up and down.

  What am I to do? I reach out to touch it, but the moment I come into contact with it, my water begins to soak in to its sand. I jerk back, and try to figure out a better way to hold it. It seems to be sad, based on its drooping shape.

  I extend a tendril, and crystallize the end of it, creating ice. It is a bit of a novelty for me, as I have always known ice existed, yet never seen it for myself. It was presumably what denoted the highest point that us seafolk could travel, I simply never had the chance to go there. With that little trick, I manage to lift up the little orb of sand, which seems particurly happy about that, for whatever reason.

  A voice comes from the direction of the exit, which is now closed again. "I made that little guy," the child proudly says, "He's cute, isn't he? Oh, I'm Wick, by the way."

  For a moment, I just focus on her in bafflement, Is this thing her child? She seems so young! I suppose we are gods, after all. I must ask her.

  "Wick, is this your child?" I ask with a sense of urgency, and Wick seems to think about that question for a moment.

  "Not really. I did make him, so in that way, yes, but I think of him as a close pet more than a child." Ah, that clears things up. I was worried for a moment that this society had been tainted. If even the gods were tainted... I shudder to think what would occur in such a world.

  "Um, what's your name, then?" The little one asked, and she was little, as I was twice the height alone, and crabur in shape. So I would be about five times her height in width. I am rather rge in my new form.

  Oh, she would not know of me. "I am general Uktik of Turik, the greatest warrior and highest of nobility of the crustacean people." I raise myself up in to a more noble posture, and present my cws. The little one looks up to me in what is most assuredly awe.

  "Crustacean? Like crabs? I suppose that makes sense, you are a crab. And you're someone important, did you live in a castle?" Wick asks eagerly. Obviously my dispy did not have the intended effect, instead simply infming her childish interest.

  "My home was not quite a castle, but instead a fortress. it-" Before I can continue my sentence, there is a sound from the door. The sound is simir to one of the undersea eruptions which my people used to forge armour, weapons, and tools. It echoes throughout the room as if it were a whale cry in a cave. The two fleshes on the bridge lean over the rails to look for the source.

  Each of our focuses alights on the doorway, Chaos hopping off of the bridge to float in the air, to the bafflement of Eth.

  The sound rings out once more, then there was a long silence. I extend my spikes as if I were wearing my armour. Wick backs behind me.

  The door begins to open, and copious amounts of fog begin to roll out of the crack.

  Aethernal