Natasha the Halve
The wall of the obelisk felt like solid air, slightly pushing against me.
I stopped and tried grasping it, but just like air – no matter how solid – it slid through my fingers. “Hmm.” I moved on.
The interior of the building was bright and spacious. The room we came into had the same blue-ish material from the outside, covered in engravings with all the colors of the rainbow in gradients which illuminated the space. The ceiling was around five meters above us, and no chandeliers hung from it as I had gotten used to see. The walls had no windows. Instead, paintings showing all kinds of landscapes hung on them.
I saw deserts, jungles, green forests, cities with all kinds of architecture, frozen plains, forests with trees made of purple crystal, floating cities, mountains that reached the clouds, cliffs overlooking the seas, islands in the middle of the ocean, entrances to dungeons, shots of the skies where large dragons soared, underwater cities, images of brutal battlefields, and more.
Sound came from each and every one of them, and the images moved as if they were a video playing on a large monitor.
“Memories,” Shorvanna commented in an even tone, gesturing at them with an arm.
I stood next to the living suit of armor and stared at a painting in front of us.
Two armies were engaged in combat on a vast dirt plain. Elves and Orks were showcased killing each other. Spells flew through the air along with arrows and what looked like artillery from either a catapult or trébuchet, butchering bodies left and right. Formations fell and rose with flashes of white light, probably from a healer. Right in the middle of the battle, two individuals wearing overly fancy armor and weapons were ducking it out, destroying the terrain around them.
“What's this one?” I inquired, pointing at the fight.
“The firs ever war,” the Goddess replied with joy in her voice. “At least the one with a strategy more complicated than overwhelming the enemy with only numbers. Ronizdel and I were watching it unfold with our very eyes!”
I scowled. “What were they fighting for?” I asked with a fair amount of disgust.
“My approval,” Shorvanna replied with pride.
I shot her a disapproving glance, then looked back at the canvas. “Who are those two fancy fellows?” I asked next, pointing at them. “Heroes or something?”
“Queen Tri'Kha Tilensis I from the Queendom of Maaruhk and Stepana Boldani Ulgov, Empress of Orkin,” she replied in an ecstatic tone. “The Orks won, seizing the eastern shores of Patuk. The Elves lost the war along with their right to wage it for five centuries. A beautiful display of violence!”
My face soured and I shook my head. “This is what we Halves protected their ancestors for?” I questioned.
“Among many other things,” the Goddess, Advocate for War, confirmed. “And what I taught them,” she added with palpable pride.
I let out a long sigh, watching mortals killing each other.
“Enough of better times,” Shorvanna spoke. “The two are waiting for us.”
I nodded, more than happy to stop talking about the biggest failure of statecraft.
She walked to the opposite wall and went through just like the previous.
I followed.
After seven rooms similarly covered in paintings that displayed the world and events that took place probably millions of years ago, we reached a large room.
I wasn't about to question the lack of stairs on a building where Gods lived, or how the building worked. I just wasn't in the mood to have that explained to me.
The room had circular table set at the center of it, which surrounded by four chairs.
There, two figures completely different from one another sat.
My eyebrows climbed my forehead until they reached their limit when I saw the first.
Eyes. Thousands of them. Everywhere. Of all the colors and shapes one can think of, and even some that looked outright nightmarish. All of them on a being that had gray skin. The head, however, had six identical eyes on the face. Said head had a line of all the colors of the rainbow between each pair of eyes. The limbs were not attached to the body, instead floating a few centimeters from where they belonged.
[Danuva, Goddess of the path of the Cleric – The Great Awakener – First of the Loving – Fourth of the Violent – Bringer of Sentience – First of the Gods – Trigger of Thought – Progenitor of Individuality – Terror of the Murderer – Builder of all that Heals – She Who Guides Mending – Daughter of the Architect – She Who Defies Death – Icon of Worship – Guide of Protectors – The Lover – The Reasonable – Mother of Justice – She Who Judges the Righteous – True Immortal – Divine, Lvl 500]
I looked at the one sitting next to her, hoping for something nicer on the eyes.
Fabrics of all kind of materials and colors floated in the shape of an individual. They looked soft, fluffy, high quality, and elaborately embroidered. In place of a head, a cloud with every conceivable color surrounded a sphere that spun in place. Thick strings connected the sphere to whatever lied under the fabric. The strings showed up again at the end of what looked like an arm, connecting to his hands which had the shape of the headstock of a guitar, from which flutes emerged in the shape of fingers.
[Saravia, God of the path of the Performer – The Eloquent Whisperer – First of the Ingenious – Second of the Loving – Third of the Violent – Bringer of Pleasure – Fourth of the Gods – The Charmer – The Fool – Father of Tales – Progenitor of Music – Terror of the Boring – Builder of all that Echoes – He Who Guides Tempo – Son of the Architect – He Who Silences Silence – Icon of Romance – Guide of Protectors – The Honest – Father of Culture – True Immortal – Divine, Lvl 500]
I breathed in and out, doing my best not to think loudly. Instead, I took it all in as it was.
“Right,” I muttered, then took a seat with the three Gods. I leaned back and spoke first, giving Danuva and Saravia a nod and offering a hand, “Hi, I'm Natasha Novak. Nice to meet you.”
Saravia shook it first. “Welcome,” he chuckled, and the cloud that was his head vibrated like a sound wave, lighting up in the same way. His voice was the most body-melting sound I had heard in all my lives, making my ears and spine tingle pleasantly. It was both a tenor and a bass at the same time, which were the registers I like the most. “I see you're a woman of culture,” he pointed out with glee.
“I like your voice,” I told him with a smile and offered Danuva a handshake.
The Goddess looked at me with all her eyes, then shook my hand. “You're not shocked,” she pointed out in a voice that soothed all pains in the world.
I nodded and leaned back. “Nilenna sends her regards,” I started, then turned to Saravia. “She says she has a good riddle for you. Also, your legacy's tradition is a bit silly. Some Tigea demanded I play an instrument to see if I was worthy or some nonsense before buying it.” I turned to Danuva and shrugged. “Hard to be put off by anything after seeing the beings of the Abyss in my dreams.”
“True,” Danuva agreed.
“An instrument is a Performer's figurative sword,” Saravia chuckled, spreading his arms in a dramatic shrug.
His voice made my bones go a little soft.
“But I'm no Performer,” I pointed out. “I did play a few pieces in the end. He asked me to teach him, too,” I chuckled, remembering the man turn from stubbornly strict to modest.
“Splendid,” the Gog praised with a charming laugh and placing both arms on the table.
“This young Halve has a request for you, Danuva,” Shorvanna interjected in an inviting tone.
Danuva's six facial eyes focused on me. “Do tell,” she hummed, leaning forward.
I stared at her, not sure which eyes I should choose. “I met Elena Pazh'Khun a while ago,” I started, going for the whole story. “A small group of politically dissatisfied Changelings that tried to kill me had her under mind control. Unfortunately, she tried the same and met similar failure. Not knowing who she was, I spoke Abyssal into her ear and broke her mind. My lover and companion, Alyssa Pruvik... whom I'd like you to teach, healed what she could so we could get answers in regards to their motives. Turns out, the damage caused her to forget two thirds of her memories. I brought her here to correct that since she's Yulianna's partner. Do you think you could heal her?” I asked with utmost seriousness.
The Gods glanced at each other for a second.
Danuva looked at me and spoke, “That's an odd way to ask that of a Goddess,” she pointed out with a sigh.
I drummed my fingers on the table. “I'm not going to beg, or ask again,” I stated, leaning forward. “It's a yes or no question, Danuva. Pretty simple in my opinion.”
“HAHAHAHA!” Shorvanna laughed loudly but didn't move in the slightest. “That's how it's supposed to be! Absolute might! Tyrannical, even!”
I turned to the sentient suit of armor and arched an eyebrow.
“We worried you'd have difficulties exercising your absolute authority,” Saravia sighed, which made my spine tingle. “A most welcome mistake.”
I leaned back on the chair and gave each a suspicious look. “Why?” I inquired.
“Because you remember,” Danuva replied, her eyes squinting in amusement. “And those who remember have difficulties performing their duties, going as far as taking centuries before their first kill.”
I slowly nodded, then asked, “I'm not the first to remember?”
“Not at all,” Shorvanna chuckled. “And you certainly won't be the last.”
I let out a short hum. “So, Danuva. Can you do it?”
“Of course,” she replied with a giggle. “Before that, answer this question of ours, young Halve.”
I gesture her with a hand to go for it.
“Did the Architect send a message our way?” Saravia inquired, leaning forward on the table.
“I have no idea what you're talking about,” I replied instantly.
“A lock it is, then,” Shorvanna concluded with a sigh.
“Seems so,” Danuva agreed with a nod.
“A shame,” Saravia lamented in a sad tone.
Chapter 192: 153 – Meeting with three Divines.
I stopped and tried grasping it, but just like air – no matter how solid – it slid through my fingers. “Hmm.” I moved on.
The interior of the building was bright and spacious. The room we came into had the same blue-ish material from the outside, covered in engravings with all the colors of the rainbow in gradients which illuminated the space. The ceiling was around five meters above us, and no chandeliers hung from it as I had gotten used to see. The walls had no windows. Instead, paintings showing all kinds of landscapes hung on them.
I saw deserts, jungles, green forests, cities with all kinds of architecture, frozen plains, forests with trees made of purple crystal, floating cities, mountains that reached the clouds, cliffs overlooking the seas, islands in the middle of the ocean, entrances to dungeons, shots of the skies where large dragons soared, underwater cities, images of brutal battlefields, and more.
Sound came from each and every one of them, and the images moved as if they were a video playing on a large monitor.
“Memories,” Shorvanna commented in an even tone, gesturing at them with an arm.
I stood next to the living suit of armor and stared at a painting in front of us.
Two armies were engaged in combat on a vast dirt plain. Elves and Orks were showcased killing each other. Spells flew through the air along with arrows and what looked like artillery from either a catapult or trébuchet, butchering bodies left and right. Formations fell and rose with flashes of white light, probably from a healer. Right in the middle of the battle, two individuals wearing overly fancy armor and weapons were ducking it out, destroying the terrain around them.
“What's this one?” I inquired, pointing at the fight.
“The firs ever war,” the Goddess replied with joy in her voice. “At least the one with a strategy more complicated than overwhelming the enemy with only numbers. Ronizdel and I were watching it unfold with our very eyes!”
I scowled. “What were they fighting for?” I asked with a fair amount of disgust.
“My approval,” Shorvanna replied with pride.
I shot her a disapproving glance, then looked back at the canvas. “Who are those two fancy fellows?” I asked next, pointing at them. “Heroes or something?”
“Queen Tri'Kha Tilensis I from the Queendom of Maaruhk and Stepana Boldani Ulgov, Empress of Orkin,” she replied in an ecstatic tone. “The Orks won, seizing the eastern shores of Patuk. The Elves lost the war along with their right to wage it for five centuries. A beautiful display of violence!”
My face soured and I shook my head. “This is what we Halves protected their ancestors for?” I questioned.
“Among many other things,” the Goddess, Advocate for War, confirmed. “And what I taught them,” she added with palpable pride.
I let out a long sigh, watching mortals killing each other.
“Enough of better times,” Shorvanna spoke. “The two are waiting for us.”
I nodded, more than happy to stop talking about the biggest failure of statecraft.
She walked to the opposite wall and went through just like the previous.
After seven rooms similarly covered in paintings that displayed the world and events that took place probably millions of years ago, we reached a large room.
I wasn't about to question the lack of stairs on a building where Gods lived, or how the building worked. I just wasn't in the mood to have that explained to me.
The room had circular table set at the center of it, which surrounded by four chairs.
There, two figures completely different from one another sat.
My eyebrows climbed my forehead until they reached their limit when I saw the first.
Eyes. Thousands of them. Everywhere. Of all the colors and shapes one can think of, and even some that looked outright nightmarish. All of them on a being that had gray skin. The head, however, had six identical eyes on the face. Said head had a line of all the colors of the rainbow between each pair of eyes. The limbs were not attached to the body, instead floating a few centimeters from where they belonged.
[Danuva, Goddess of the path of the Cleric – The Great Awakener – First of the Loving – Fourth of the Violent – Bringer of Sentience – First of the Gods – Trigger of Thought – Progenitor of Individuality – Terror of the Murderer – Builder of all that Heals – She Who Guides Mending – Daughter of the Architect – She Who Defies Death – Icon of Worship – Guide of Protectors – The Lover – The Reasonable – Mother of Justice – She Who Judges the Righteous – True Immortal – Divine, Lvl 500]
I looked at the one sitting next to her, hoping for something nicer on the eyes.
Fabrics of all kind of materials and colors floated in the shape of an individual. They looked soft, fluffy, high quality, and elaborately embroidered. In place of a head, a cloud with every conceivable color surrounded a sphere that spun in place. Thick strings connected the sphere to whatever lied under the fabric. The strings showed up again at the end of what looked like an arm, connecting to his hands which had the shape of the headstock of a guitar, from which flutes emerged in the shape of fingers.
[Saravia, God of the path of the Performer – The Eloquent Whisperer – First of the Ingenious – Second of the Loving – Third of the Violent – Bringer of Pleasure – Fourth of the Gods – The Charmer – The Fool – Father of Tales – Progenitor of Music – Terror of the Boring – Builder of all that Echoes – He Who Guides Tempo – Son of the Architect – He Who Silences Silence – Icon of Romance – Guide of Protectors – The Honest – Father of Culture – True Immortal – Divine, Lvl 500]
I breathed in and out, doing my best not to think loudly. Instead, I took it all in as it was.
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Shorvanna walked past me and sat at the table.“Right,” I muttered, then took a seat with the three Gods. I leaned back and spoke first, giving Danuva and Saravia a nod and offering a hand, “Hi, I'm Natasha Novak. Nice to meet you.”
Saravia shook it first. “Welcome,” he chuckled, and the cloud that was his head vibrated like a sound wave, lighting up in the same way. His voice was the most body-melting sound I had heard in all my lives, making my ears and spine tingle pleasantly. It was both a tenor and a bass at the same time, which were the registers I like the most. “I see you're a woman of culture,” he pointed out with glee.
“I like your voice,” I told him with a smile and offered Danuva a handshake.
The Goddess looked at me with all her eyes, then shook my hand. “You're not shocked,” she pointed out in a voice that soothed all pains in the world.
I nodded and leaned back. “Nilenna sends her regards,” I started, then turned to Saravia. “She says she has a good riddle for you. Also, your legacy's tradition is a bit silly. Some Tigea demanded I play an instrument to see if I was worthy or some nonsense before buying it.” I turned to Danuva and shrugged. “Hard to be put off by anything after seeing the beings of the Abyss in my dreams.”
“True,” Danuva agreed.
“An instrument is a Performer's figurative sword,” Saravia chuckled, spreading his arms in a dramatic shrug.
“But I'm no Performer,” I pointed out. “I did play a few pieces in the end. He asked me to teach him, too,” I chuckled, remembering the man turn from stubbornly strict to modest.
“Splendid,” the Gog praised with a charming laugh and placing both arms on the table.
“This young Halve has a request for you, Danuva,” Shorvanna interjected in an inviting tone.
Danuva's six facial eyes focused on me. “Do tell,” she hummed, leaning forward.
I stared at her, not sure which eyes I should choose. “I met Elena Pazh'Khun a while ago,” I started, going for the whole story. “A small group of politically dissatisfied Changelings that tried to kill me had her under mind control. Unfortunately, she tried the same and met similar failure. Not knowing who she was, I spoke Abyssal into her ear and broke her mind. My lover and companion, Alyssa Pruvik... whom I'd like you to teach, healed what she could so we could get answers in regards to their motives. Turns out, the damage caused her to forget two thirds of her memories. I brought her here to correct that since she's Yulianna's partner. Do you think you could heal her?” I asked with utmost seriousness.
The Gods glanced at each other for a second.
Danuva looked at me and spoke, “That's an odd way to ask that of a Goddess,” she pointed out with a sigh.
I drummed my fingers on the table. “I'm not going to beg, or ask again,” I stated, leaning forward. “It's a yes or no question, Danuva. Pretty simple in my opinion.”
“HAHAHAHA!” Shorvanna laughed loudly but didn't move in the slightest. “That's how it's supposed to be! Absolute might! Tyrannical, even!”
I turned to the sentient suit of armor and arched an eyebrow.
“We worried you'd have difficulties exercising your absolute authority,” Saravia sighed, which made my spine tingle. “A most welcome mistake.”
I leaned back on the chair and gave each a suspicious look. “Why?” I inquired.
“Because you remember,” Danuva replied, her eyes squinting in amusement. “And those who remember have difficulties performing their duties, going as far as taking centuries before their first kill.”
I slowly nodded, then asked, “I'm not the first to remember?”
“Not at all,” Shorvanna chuckled. “And you certainly won't be the last.”
I let out a short hum. “So, Danuva. Can you do it?”
“Of course,” she replied with a giggle. “Before that, answer this question of ours, young Halve.”
I gesture her with a hand to go for it.
“Did the Architect send a message our way?” Saravia inquired, leaning forward on the table.
“A lock it is, then,” Shorvanna concluded with a sigh.
“Seems so,” Danuva agreed with a nod.
“A shame,” Saravia lamented in a sad tone.
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