PoV:
1. Elinor Irkalla (Ereshkigal, The Sumerian Goddess Of The Dead!)
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A swirl of unnatural colors and sensations filled Elinor’s breast as she was tugged out of her Realm with those she’d selected and brought; as if a veil had been tugged over her eyes, she opened them to the mortal sphere again to discover herself in a large pillar of fire, descending to the battlefield below.
Rippling waves of divine light shimmered above them from the bridge she’d created in the two planes of Existence, and a small smile brightened her lips upon sensing the stunned humans bathed in the aurous rays: the humans she’d had Sari’aél bury that were too disfigured and broken to be brought back, given the damage to their bones.
She’d planned for many things in this plot of hers to discover what she could from her domain, yet things had spun wildly out of scope, forcing her to adapt.
Elinor’s gaze drifted between the gore-filled battlefield blow her, the newfound life of those humans that were made tortured examples, and those she’d brought back, floating down beside her.
There were far more enemies than she anticipated circling around her, waiting to snap at any weakness, which is why it was imperative she had her younger sister by her side.
The ghostly figure of her blonde sister took on slight differences from her celestial form, having a mixture of her last mortal body’s influence in her prime; it was undeniable they were twins, if with slight facial differences.
A storm of her 10,000 lives vying for momentary control would need to be sorted through by Aidrh’ruz’s powers. Hopefully, the dream fiend had survived his encounter with the Divine flavor he’d so desired; else, she’d need to find another method to stabilize her sister.
Sari’aél was still shaking off her drooling, pretty much drug-induced bath of bliss; Elinor hadn’t expected the Wellspring of Eternities to have such an effect on the Daughter of the Sun. Thankfully, after a quick examination, she figured the woman would be capable of carrying the God-Touched teens back to Nethermore.
Thor, Apate, Neara, Ninatta, and Kulitta scanned the fields of death below; no doubt, they wondered what madness Elinor had planned next.
She suppressed a giggle at imagining their expressions as to what her first act would be upon returning from the High Heavens and Irkalla.
Elinor’s smiling eyes darted to the projector that flew up to meet her, displaying their glorious return to the united Great Ri’bot Clans’ city to the northeast, Nethermore, and the Nalvean capital.
A swirl of holy, glittering forces surrounded Ishtar as the blooming faith of the masses redoubled at her rise and fall into the heavens; a corporeal body of flesh and blood enclosed her sister’s frame, and Elinor had to commend her songbirds as the two self-caged goddesses wrapped her body in a golden robe.
Elinor sent the Seraph down once she’d recovered to collect cloth and silk from the fallen Ri’bot army encampment to bring to the resurrected human girls—most of them were adolescents or teens since the Roxim and Komath wanted to experiment on those near Elinor’s same size.
Luckily, that tragic and horrific experience would be wiped from their memories in the lingering amnesia of being resurrected; restored to perfect health in mind and body, they’d retain some understanding of their imprisonment, yet not the biting emotional trauma.
In the distance, Elinor saw her Lesser Titan Abominations cleaning up the few Ri’bot that had escaped the initial conflict; they would only last another ten minutes or so before crumbling to a mass of rotten flesh and putrid guts—returning nutrients to the earth.
It took fifteen minutes of silent study of the valley, forest, and field for Elinor and her party to descend to the moist ground; the overhead storm that had been suppressed would soon cast its tears across the bloody field again.
Several dozen women—along with teenage and adolescent girls—watched them in stunned awe from the waves of uplifting energy that filled the solemn, horror-filled plain; the angel had managed to distribute silk or rough cloth to each for the projector to send the miracle to the rest of the region—living, not undead.
Stepping forward with her robed sister by her side, the crowd parted, not a word spoken as the others hung back.
Elinor prompted Sari’aél to lift them into the air, acting as an angelic figure to further illustrate her point in the awaiting crowds in the three cities and leftover craftsmen or citizens of the Israg and Dralix Great Clans, watching from the distant hill.
“Citizens of Nethermore, Shi’Shuka, and the Ri’bot Great Clans… it is about time I formally introduce myself. I am Elinor, Irkalla, Ereshkigal, the Supreme Goddess over Irkalla, the Land of the Dead, and the place all will end. I am the Realm of the Dead, and it is me.
“As I have stated to many of you before,” she added, a slight smile on her lips. She then gestured toward her little sister, who did require belief. “I do not require your prayers to prove I am a Supreme Goddess, but I will rule that which is mine without fail.”
Elinor directed their attention to the glorious sky as it began to lose its luster. “I have split a path to the Divine, entered my domain, and asserted my dominance with my younger sister, Ishtar. Heh. I am The Law—the Supreme Goddess of Judgment—and all will stand before Irkalla’s gates…” She paused, a dark expression passing across her face that made the crowd of women below her shiver.
“Irkalla may be the last hope you have to have safety in the afterlife. A creeping red tide is corrupting and consuming all that seek relief in the Great River of the Dead—that we know as Hubur; chaos abounds in the fractured Realms of the Divine, yet there is security in me. Have hope.
“All those that seek shelter, know it is found in my name, and if you wish to reach Irkalla sooner upon your death, believe in my protective hand to give you asylum.
“Now, I will introduce you to Ishtar, my younger twin sister and the Supreme Queen of Heaven… While I handle the threats abroad, she will rule in my stead, keeping my nation’s borders secure. Queen Ishtar…”
Her sister gave a gracious nod, attempting to keep her speech and mannerisms in check from the chaos battling within her awakened spirit. Her glowing, turquoise irises surveyed the wide-eyed women below with a compassionate smile before turning it to the floating mass of eyes, flesh, and wings that projected their address.
“As my elder sister mentioned, I am to be her hand in Nethermore as its regent and queen. I have come from the High Heavens with three of my servants in the Divine Realm. High Warlord Sari’aél, if you would…”
The Seraph happily lifted the three to her side as they bowed to their queen and presented themselves; Elinor was sure Kulitta’s white leather outfit caused a few to wonder what kind of goddess she was.
Ishtar drew focus to her head attendant first. “Neara used to rule over all servants in Heaven; she has joined me on the mortal plane to act as Nethermore’s Head of State, handling daily affairs of our growing nation. Kulitta, Ninatta…”
The blonde songstresses came forward as Neara was drawn away.
“They are twin goddess of music and have followed me since they were children, these two women have taken the Royal Court role of Songweavers. I will make personal addresses to each of your cities in time.”
She turned to Elinor, who gave a cheerful nod; she’d waited forever to be rid of the burden her sister had thrust on her in her youth.
“Sari’aél.”
“Yes, My Queen?”
“Where are those that ruled the creatures of this battlefield?”
Hehe. They’re called Ri’bot, Sister, she mused between their private connection through the Nexus; her sister directed a tight smile her way.
“Yes, well, you could have informed me sooner. I’m rather behind on your exploits in this world.”
Catch up quickly, Queen Regent!
“You’re enjoying this far too much,” Ishtar huffed, watching the corpses of the two Great Chiefs being raised from the grass as the rain began to fall around them, yet a soft hum from the twins created a barrier; a curtain of water bowed around them like an invisible umbrella, causing murmurs from the girls.
Hovering over to them to examine the fallen warriors, Elinor frowned at her sister’s silent observation; she’d expected her to select some random soldiers to demonstrate her power, not the literal chiefs she intended to raise, but this also had its merits.
Does it have to be them?
“I can feel the prayers and hopes most surrounding these two… Over a hundred thousand across the land, including from other species. They seem to have left quite an impact in their lives.”
Understandable.
A small pillar of light encompassed them as she called their spirits back from Irkalla, and, having been granted access to the one thing that could draw a soul away from Elinor’s Realm, Ishtar resurrected the two war heroes and leaders.
Flesh knitted back together, color returned to their spotted skin, and breath filled their lungs; Great Chiefs Israg and Dralix lived again, guided back by Ishtar’s gentle hands as she exercised her birthright for the first time since she was but a child.
“Live again, Great Chiefs… You have much left to accomplish—there are those that still seek thy guidance in these troubling times. In facing my sister—to face certain death without hesitation for your people—you have proven yourself warriors fit to live again.”
How’s the effect?
“A very positive one… unlike your savage methods.”
Hehe. It was the only way, and Irkalla accepted all those that perished by my hand.
The two Ri’bot were brought to the ground to right themselves, looking at one another before clenching their fists to test their renewed strength; after a moment, their gaze lifted to them with conflicted emotions in their eyes.
Elinor drew their attention. “Great Chiefs, I understand you’d rather see your warriors brought back to return to their home, and perhaps there is hope for some to return, but there are requirements for everything.”
Her sister nodded and directed them to the projector. “It is not by my expectations that you are brought back but by the prayers of your people… They and many others that cried for your loss; I was merely a channel for their… all of your hopes and desires.”
A quake ran down the two Ri’bots’ frames as they looked at the hovering projector, taking in the revelation.
Elinor was a tad surprised when both looked at each other before dropping to their knees in front of her, Israg initiating, “If that’s the case, Empress Irkalla, I wish for the Great Morseng Clan to become a vassal state of Nethermore.”
“I agree, old friend… The Great Polsan desires to be under Nethermore’s colors. We have tasted of your power and your mercy.”
“We have seen your wrath and promises fulfilled… The afterlife you call Irkalla may not have retained with us in memory, yet, it has left an impression in spirit. I believe in your divinity as the One Above All.”
“As do I,” Dralix reflected.
Elinor puffed out a short breath, knowing many would likely be shaken and doubt their sudden allegiance in the graveyard of their soldiers; it would undoubtedly cause unrest, yet that was the price of any conquest.
To her surprise, Ishtar took control of the conversation.
“A vassal state has such terrible connotations to it… If you wish to become our people, then we welcome you with open arms, and you will receive our full support as citizens of our growing nation. Your enemies are ours,” she added, lifting them to their feet with a smile.
“You will not be discriminated against or shunned because you are the people of Irkalla and Ishtar, and to do so would disrespect us… Of course, our citizens are expected to act in accordance not to shame our names, but trust that we are here to help you in sickness and health.”
Her celestial vision lifted to the projector to address their people. “Is that what you desire… To bring us your sorrows to heal your heart and to grant you strength to fight your oppressors? If you wish to press forward into a golden age for not only Ri’bot but for all nations that align themselves with Nethermore, then… we welcome you.”
Elinor was impressed by her sister’s moving words that caused the girls around them to bow their heads with the two Ri’bot, whispering their hopes for deliverance from the chaos and horrors of their past passed between women.
Content with what she saw, Elinor looked to the forest as she felt the hidden horrors that lay within. “As of now, Queen Ishtar will be taking over governance of Nethermore’s activities. I will be leading a campaign to bring Nethermore’s many enemies to heel.”
A sly smirk lifted her lips as she turned her gaze to her sister. “My twin will handle all events—including warfare—near Nethermore in my absence; know that she is nearly my equal. None shall stand against us, for you are the citizens of the Divine and Infernal.
“I will be stealing away my sister for a short while and leaving you in the hands of Neara to hear your concerns,” she added to the humans and Ri’bot Great Chiefs. “She will return shortly.”
Ninatta…
The woman’s gaze shifted between Ishtar and her, realizing Elinor was going to pull her mistress away for another task, leaving the new Head of State to speak to the crowd and being soaked in the address wouldn’t be the best look for them.
“I shall stay and keep them dry, My Empress.”
Good. Sari’aél, take us to meet The Covenant.
The older songstress took control over the barrier as Neara directed the humans and Ri’bot to speak to them on an individual level.
Thor was observing their address with folded arms; he’d been carefully judging their actions throughout the events Elinor dragged him through. She needed him to see them as a worthy allies and not a hamper to his goals since he was someone Elinor could predict and trust.
He had a code of conduct that made him reliable, and that was valuable when someone was as true to their principles as the Hero of Asgard was.
On the other hand, Apate was only on Apate’s side, and since she’d been caught between the crossfire of Primordial Olympus and Elinor, she’d chosen who’s collar she’d wear.
The Seraph drew them into the storm—Kulitta using her voice to part the rain—and Elinor’s focus fell to Masmu as her little, white, spiritual snake uncoiled from around her breasts to poke out her head and flick her tongue in the direction of the unconscious God-Touched.
“I see it,” she whispered, eyebrows drawing together while studying the change they were going through; Adoncia’s brow was slick with sweat as she shifted in her sleep, struggling with Tiamat’s claws digging into her essence.
Thor followed her gaze. “Will she make it?”
“I don’t know… She’s been enhanced—being connected to my Greater Seed—but just that link might not be enough when being touched by a Celestial.”
Thor’s vision drifted to the blood-soaked field, and Elinor could guess what was on his mind; Apate teased him about not understanding the true beginnings of his ancestry, and what they’d discovered in Irkalla certainly had brought questions to bear.
The Trickster was bobbing her head left and right while basking in the Seraph’s glow and humming along to Kulitta’s tune without a care in the world.
Ishtar bridged a connection to her in the Nexus as they passed over the forest. “How do you want me to govern, Sister? We have very different styles, after all.”
Elinor gave her a short shrug and laughed. You know my rules, Ishtar. As I proved with your precious former sukkal, there are ways of working within law to get what you want. So long as you follow my basic rules, you can do whatever you wish.
A tight smirk lifted her sister’s eyes. “Are you sure you want to give me that much freedom, Elinor?”
The swaying trees in the billowing wind of the storm caught Elinor’s notice while the Seraph flew them through the ill-tempered noonday—her sister following her gaze next to her—and Elinor momentarily reflected on how far she’d come since first arriving in this world; yet, she was still at the foot of a giant mountain.
I can’t micromanage you and fight multiple pantheons, Sister—even I have my limits. Show me how much you’ve grown in all of our conflicts, and prove to me you can still operate within a system of law while expressing yourself in it.
“My, heh, I underestimated how much Elinor changed you.”
Lifting her fingers to study the divine figure, as her artificial body was recreated upon her expanded awareness in Irkalla, Elinor hummed. I was steadfastly stuck to the rule of law before your influence helped me see merit in working around them when needed… Faith in one’s self unreserved, while knowing one’s limits and who to place your trust in? I’d say I have learned a few things from you, Ishtar.
“Ishtar… So many names,” her sister mused as they descended to the fallen corpse of one of Elinor’s lesser titan abominations. “I’ve been struggling to understand who I am, slipping between past versions of myself.”
I’ve noticed! Elinor huffed, focus momentarily shifting to Thor. Can you not try to jump his bones before I carry him to safety from your lustful claws?
“Hehe. No promises as it stands! I’m no longer fully Inanna—filled with fulfilling every whim and desire that touches my heart—as you are no longer Ereshkigal… Supreme Goddess of a stick up her ass.”
I can accept that, Elinor laughed. I’m glad my daughter hasn’t fully taken after me in that regard… Poor Namtar; I’ve made him such a stickler to rules he almost didn’t show me Tiamat’s chamber out of fear of breaking my previous ruling. Well, I guess our bonding time is over.
“Hmm. Quite the crew you’re associating with.”
Thor’s gauntleted fingers tightened around his weapon as they met Baxter, Sylez, Aidrh’ruz, Ke’Thra’Ma, Les’ndrassa, and Becdeth; only the Devil cared to keep the falling rain from touching his black armor and mane of white hair.
Her lips tightened upon seeing Aidrh’ruz in a daze, spirit a mass of chaotic forces that sent eerie waves through Elinor’s frame.
Telepathic words vibrating the air for all to hear, the Devil chuckled at their entrance. “Quite the show… and fascinating creation; a shame it died so quickly.”
Elinor was reminded once again that this entity was strong enough to destroy all life on the planet, including everyone present—due to their weakened state as mortals; each of these creatures had their own plots and paths to pursue, yet help could be traded.
Ke’Thra’Ma pounded his fist into the lesser titan abomination’s body, pulverizing it and sending globs of tight muscle and flesh splattering against his alabaster fur; it was an impressive feat of strength, given the natural defenses the undead abomination still possessed.
“A worthy subordinate! I was disappointed you didn’t crush the bulk of those weaklings with your own hands, though, Empress.”
Elinor flashed her teeth, knowing how the Warlord thought. “Would you have wasted your time on weaklings?”
“Haha! I suppose not,” he roared. “It did let me imagine my own fists squeezing guts from my victims.”
“Yes. Yes,” Sylez muttered, twirling his fingers impatiently. “I must hear the tale of your ascent into the Divine Realm!”
Les’ndrassa’s body swirled with liquid before transforming into a floating sphere of armored ridges; her core pulsed with light with her brain matter. “Patience, Sylez… Goddess Irkalla, it is wonderful to see you safe. I pray your trip was successful?”
Ishtar’s surprised note entered her mind.
“Hmm?! She is praying to you… I’ve never felt an Alterity pray, much less for a Goddess. It’s… a very sweet flavor of worship—and powerful—yet seems to pass swiftly.”
Interesting.
Elinor didn’t miss the silent smile Becdeth gave them, a secretive smile playing at the corners of his golden mask and clicking, horrific maw.
“Not to cut our little get-together short,” Elinor whispered, knowing Thor wanted nothing more than to engage the smirking Demon of his Existence, “but what is the current state of Aidrh’ruz?”
Baxter, being the junior of the group after Ke’Thra’Ma’s show, gave a showy bow. “My most glorious Goddesses—and audience—my illustrious comrade has seen something within the Dream he wishes to impart on your return. We have eagerly awaited the stage to be set for your return!”
Becdeth shifted his staff to the opposite side for the smoke surrounding his lower half to thicken, and a tickling claw touched the back of Elinor’s skull, yet she knew better than to pay it any mind.
Elinor engaged him since he’d chosen to keep his silence. “How long until he is stable again?”
“Hmm…” the eldritch creature’s feminine voice resonated with Kulitta’s hum almost perfectly, making the songstress’ gloved fingers tighten. “He still lingers in the sway of what he sampled… A mix of the holy and unknowable, drawing pictures of paths unseen in the rhapsody of Existences aligned.”
“A grand play deserving of an audience!” Baxter sang and lamented. “If only this frail soul of mine were of such splendor to witness this show fit for the Divine! Such a tragedy… a tragedy, indeed—oh?!”
Ishtar stepped forward as Kulitta created a vocal barrier for her to walk on—avoiding her dirtying her feet in the mud; the tips of her sister’s fingers caressed Aidrh’ruz’s bristling fur, causing his flickering blue crown to strengthen.
“I can feel his struggle through madness… from a crimson depth he’s tested—spirit and pride—protected by the Divine forces he’d fathered yet… he can’t escape… he’s fallen to depths where the light he’s carried cannot escape. Still, he refuses to break in the surging tide gripping at his mortal soul… or call for aid.”
A mumbled whisper made everyone present shiver as a chaotic grip of some unknown eldritch force reached out from the dream-like connection, muttering through the colossal ape. “All that’s weak must die.”
Les’ndrassa changed forms again in a fluid rush of water as Becdeth’s grip tightened around his weapon, its many, eye-like tentacles pausing in their movements to look at Aidrh’ruz.
“Goddess… I feel him drifting away, yet… The Dream has passed?”
Sylez sat a little straighter in his air-like throne. “This power… is similar to you, Becdeth!”
The eldritch entity’s tone flipped to a soft masculine whisper. “Hmm-hmm-hmm. Aidrh’ruz has been drawn into the lull of the Endless Crimson Tide… Those lost within are carried into the madness of the Azure Depth, and it shall not let go.”
Baxter gasped, bone-like beak opening in mock horror. “What must be done in this shocking twist, O Wise and Cryptic One?! We must mount a rescue! No?”
Les’ndrassa transformed into her phantom, humanoid form as her fin-like barb eased out from the bottom of her dark skirt to connect with Aidrh’ruz’s. “Light can be given when hope is not lost… May I beseech you, Goddesses, for your aid in channeling my desires to see my friend returned?”
Elinor crossed her arms upon feeling the rushing serenity the divine eldritch created; there was nothing she could do except attempt to follow his mind’s path to chain him and draw the creature out, yet the forces they were contending with were outside of Elinor’s current scope, and she could feel it.
Perhaps she could have in the beginning, yet the longer a creature stayed in this Endless Crimson Tide, the more hooks were fitted into its victim, pulling it further into its depths, transcending dimensions until meeting its end.
Ishtar, however, had tools Elinor did not.
Jaw set, her sister converted the raw faith and trust Les’ndrassa fed her that should have opened her up to this unknown threat, a threat that had likely been the cause of Irkalla’s gates being closed and Heaven being ravaged.
Elinor touched her breast as an uplifting force fed through the Nexus, bringing with it a wealth of power that dwarfed the Nexus itself, healing the damage her Seraph had caused when releasing her Divinity; a testament to the type of creature Les’nadrassa was.
Sylez and Sar’ollaz flickered before vanishing in the blinding light that Ishtar produced, hissing at the holy-infused rays she funneled into the abyss the dream gorilla was trapped in.
“Ah… How fascinating,” Ke’Thra’Ma hummed, rubbing his chin.
Becdeth retained his place, surprising Elinor that he was unaffected by the Divine.
Ishtar’s lower lip drew in as Kulitta joined her, feeding her own faith into her mistress and further increasing the radiance her sister’s golden skin produced.
“I can’t find him…”
A soft, feminine whisper came from Becdeth as he vanished to appear behind Aidrh’ruz, hands blurring into action and cloak releasing a mass of mist with the twirling ceremonial spear before stabbing its point into Aidrh’ruz’s head—it slipped through like a ghost.
“Follow the song of the shattering… where there is no path, but to the singularity, all directions must be forfeited for the call of the Great Deep to bridge the Lullaby of Madness with the Song of Corruption.”
Ishtar jolted as a burrowing, festering rhythm of untold ages past, and instruments twisted into horrors to awaken a golden key—numberless dark hands ripping through boundless depths— splitting the impassible darkness to allow an aurelian path to shine for Aidrh’ruz to follow.
Aidrh’ruz’s crown flared a bright white, and a new force steeped in mania, and wretched notes meant not to be heard but experienced—mixed with the essence of Existence—weaved a gate into the Crimson Depths.
It only lasted seconds, and Ishtar breathed out a long stream of air after channeling the harmony and disharmony of both entities as the chained dream-creature’s flaming sockets lit and his fur tinted silver.
Becdeth vanished in a cloud of fog, disappearing entirely—they didn’t return.
Les’ndrassa’s aura quelled, shoulders sagging while barely keeping herself afloat in her exhaustion.
“I… knew my faith was not misplaced, Goddesses. Victory for the Covenant again!” she tiredly cheered.
Thor and Elinor’s gaze wasn’t on the unusual event, though, as Sylez and Sar’ollaz returned to question Ishtar and Les’ndrassa.
Elinor brushed back Adoncia’s bangs; her struggling soul had been soothed and the stress on her essence aided by Ishtar and Les’ndrassa’s unified efforts.
“They are beyond danger?” Thor questioned, glancing at Sal, Alisa, and Valentina.
“For now,” she returned. “Adoncia was in the most danger, but the force channeled through the Nexus helped her gain ground in adapting to her patron.”
Thor’s gaze shot to her, realizing she didn’t say Tiamat’s name for a reason.
Sari’aél nodded, strengthening her holy light around the teens and maneuvering them a bit away from the fiends near Ishtar. “I will continue to support them as I can, but I suspect they will gain consciousness sooner than anticipated.”
“Perhaps,” Elinor mumbled, returning her gaze to her sister.
How drained are you, Ishtar?
Her sister’s tired eyes said it all when meeting hers. “Whatever forces he was contending against… including that creeping chaos Becdeth drew me toward, put a shock through my system. I expect you know something about this?”
We’ll go over it when we return to Nethermore.
The other Covenant member’s questions ceased as Elinor moved to address Aidrh’ruz.
“First, and most importantly, can you balance Ishtar’s mind?”
A new, enlightened, ponderous, calm tone had come over the creature’s words while rubbing his lower jaw with his upper arms; his crown had remained its pure-white hue.
“I can… As to what I saw and have to say, Supreme Goddess… Your actions don’t go unnoticed; Irkalla will fall if you do not kill your nemesis… and its fall will not come by his hands; the chain of trust you’ve fostered will be broken.”
Vision falling to the ground at the ominous prophecy, Elinor grunted. “Well, Becdeth said as much… Fulfill your end of the bargain, and we can leave you to puzzle over the meaning of things… or whatever your vision has shown you. I have things to do.”
He smiled. “Hehe. As you wish, Supreme Goddess. Hearts broken are not easily mended.”
“Indeed…”
Ishtar shot him a tight-lipped frown before shifting her focus to Elinor and speaking through the Nexus. “Is he saying I will betray you?”
Haha! Sis, I don’t think you stabbing me in the back would break my heart.
“True… you’re so cold and detached, I doubt much could affect you—ugh, I have a headache. I tried to test your emotions in the past… nothing worked.”
You act as if I didn’t already know that!
“Bah… I’m tired.”
Excuses! Hehe. Ready to hear all the details of my escapades in this world?
“I don’t expect I have a choice in the matter,” she mumbled, running her fingers through her hair before smiling at the exhausted holy horror next to her. “I look forward to working with you more.”
“As do I, Goddess,” she returned. “Now, I must rest…”
A pool of water enveloped her, and she was nowhere to be seen when it fell to the earth.
Apate hummed, hands behind her back while studying their two parties. “You guys… do things way differently than Olympus. So… what’s next?”
Aidrh’ruz pulled Ishtar into her own mental battlefield; as she fell unconscious, Kulitta scooped her mistress into a princess carry as Ishtar contended with her 10,000 lives.
Elinor could guess which incarnation would come out on top since she’d been the one to kill her sister every time—it wouldn’t necessarily be the most ‘powerful’ of her sister’s incarnations but would do wonders politically and be able to draw from her past combat experience.
Thor distracted himself by examining his new understudy, teenage God-Touched, studying how their change affected their spirits.
“Now… We return to Nethermore.”
Sari’aél’s bright tone drew Elinor’s smile. “Tomorrow, I fight to the death with Orinvia! I can’t wait to experience such a thrilling battle. Do you believe she will push my face into the dirt?”
“Where do you get some of these ideas?” Elinor sighed.
“Children!”
“Of course… Hehe. Let’s go home.”
With the unusual event passed, Elinor had the Seraph return her to Nethermore before returning to collect the resurrected women; Neara sent a decent number of unintelligent undead to help the Great Chiefs manage their dead and document everything.
Ishtar would likely wish to demonstrate further her powers of resurrection to strengthen the hope in the sudden change coming to the Ri’bot nations, which would further spread their fame as a budding nation.
Maps:
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