《Forest God》 Chapter 1: Motherhood ¡®What is it like being a mother,¡¯ she asked Zsa Zsa, once, the pie-bald deer witch-god. They had been playing cards after Novem had made his departure, tail between his legs. The silly little thing had wagered an eye against his father Noctua and of course Noctua had won. He was the dream thief after all, the parasitic god of dreams, and there was no better cheat than that in a card game. Several gods had departed after, unwilling to play to such stakes, as well as Noctua, to claim his spoils, and the only ones left were she, Zsa Zsa, Veris and Tva. Just the old gods now. Zsa Zsa had paused, head tilted, considering, before signing her response, the hands where her ears should have been a flurry of motion. ¡®I don¡¯t have demi-children,¡¯ she replied to Csialeide¡¯s question, ¡®but my followers call me witch-mother, and I love them for it, vicious things that they are. My children are many and give me much flesh. Delicious flesh. The little darlings.¡¯ She licked her fanged mouth, at odds with her soft doe eyes. ¡®Motherhood is many blessings.¡¯ Veris had butted in then, though Csialeide was hesitant to take the advice of the half-crazed demon-god of chaos. She would not wish the motherhood of Veris on anyone. ¡®I was many once, an entire pack of my most precious hosts. Hyenas,¡¯ she said, as if anyone couldn¡¯t have guessed given her form, despite the massive rack of antlers on her head, bedecked with thorny poisonous flowers and her ever watchful flock of eyes, pointing every which direction. ¡®We drank the god-blood and then we were one and we were all. We were our pups and our mothers and our grandmothers all at once. Perfect. And then they all left me and I was alone. Just one. Death takes all, even the endless. Motherhood is pain and loss.¡¯ ¡®But your pack was mortal, they just didn¡¯t survive the transformation. They weren¡¯t the endless. Surely demi-children are more resilient.¡¯ Tva inquired. Tva was the youngest among them, though still older than humanity, and had never made a demi-god child. Veris scowled at him, lips pulled back from thick teeth in her wide wide mouth, as she took a long swig from the dream-wine Noctua had left behind, its porcelain mask casing indicating it to be the dreams of a young dove and and a night-blooming jasmine. ¡®You¡¯ve never been a mother, rabbit-god.¡¯ She snarled, wine dripping from her mouth. Tva shook his head, ¡®but I take acolytes. Rabbits that have given up their skin to take the form of mine and watch over the warrens are my children.¡¯ Zsa Zsa cackled, signing laughter silently with her pointer finger to her face and her thumbs towards her ears making her eerily large grin appear even wider, ¡®and how well does that work for you? Don¡¯t your wolf acolytes eventually turn feral and eat your worshipers?¡¯ Tva put his cards face down, tossing the tower card to land in front of her. Zsa Zsa signed him a very rude gesture. There was a reason gods didn¡¯t gather frequently, too many large personalities were prone to butting heads. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. And then there were three. They switched to tapp tarock. ¡®You¡¯re thinking of becoming a mother, then Csia?¡¯ Zsa Zsa prompted. ¡®What brought this on? You¡¯ve always been content alone before, you don¡¯t even have worshipers.¡¯ Csialeide hummed, discontent with the too familiar nickname, the sound resonating her giant snail shell, vibrating the entire glade and all the beings gathered there. ¡®I¡­find myself looking for¡­a respite from the monotony.¡¯ Veris snorted. ¡®There are other ways to find fun. Look at Noctua, he brews dream wine, and a fine thing it is.¡¯ She took another swig. Lightweight, Csialeide was careful not to think too loudly. Her shell had the sometimes unfortunate ability to amplify her thoughts if she thought them too strongly. Probably a contributor to her isolationist lifestyle. Relationships were hard to manage with not enough privacy. ¡®Would you take followers, acolytes, or birth a demi-child?¡¯ Zsa Zsa interrogated, always interested in gossip. ¡®Companionship is what I wish for,¡¯ Csialeide murmured, the sound coming out as a rumble, echoing in the minds of those gathered rather than in their ears. Zsa Zsa prodded, ¡®so acolytes or a demi, which are you leaning?¡¯ Csialeide slowly turned the question over in her mind, she had brought this topic up on a whim, she hadn¡¯t committed to the idea and was hesitant for Zsa Zsa to hurry her into one or the other. ¡®I wish for full equality, a balanced relationship, to form a full god. To give true birth.¡¯ Veris and Zsa Zsa shared a look. ¡®They could turn on you.¡¯ Veris finally said, a beat after Csaileide¡¯s announcement. ¡®It is dangerous¡¯ Zsa Zsa agreed. ¡®Look at Novem and Noctua, he birthed the child now known as god-eater. Not many desire to be transformed. Only the power that goes with it. They often hold a grudge.¡¯ Csialeide placed her cards down carefully, their surfaces oozing with her slime. ¡®Nevertheless. It is what I will.¡¯ Chapter 2: Life needs meaning Where should she look for her child-to-be. Csialeide wondered, now back in the comfort of her woods, filling them again with her whispers. Tall mushrooms and flowers leaned towards her as she glided through, crystals pulsed with the power of her hum. The canopy overhead concealed her from Noctua¡¯s moonlight. Privacy was something she cherished, but now she found herself interested in creating a new life to share hers with. Somebeing to bear the weight of her adoration. As her woods lacked any animal life, she resolved to stroll through the mainland forests surrounding her island when the tide took the salt away, leaving her a peninsula of sand bar to traverse. Salt wasn¡¯t poison to her like it once had been, back before she became a god, but it was uncomfortable, an itching allergic rash that crawled up her ventral foot. She reflected that Zsa Zsa and Veris may not have been the most judicious of choices for her inquiries into motherhood. Noctua¡¯s perspective might be a more comparable selection for a consultation. Or Nevah, oldest of the known gods. But that was likely impossible, Nevah had not been sighted for a millenia, perhaps even in deep eversleep as many of the ancients were prone to. Calling upon Noctua would take a little effort. She could simply seek him out in her dream, but she was resistant to the idea of giving him such power over her. Instead she would sing to his reflection, calling him to travel to her instead. She willed it, and the entangled branches over her clear pool of silvery water drew back, revealing the moons above, moonbeams stretching down over her waters. The larger moon, ice white, drew the eye, but it was Noctua¡¯s smaller dazzling blue moon she would be calling, hazy behind the planet¡¯s rings. She began to sing, a song of longing and loneliness. The still reflection of the moon on the water¡¯s surface began to ripple, when if finally reached the banks, a shimmer fell over the air, and with a graceful step into solidity, a tall man emerged, a flutter of luna moths flurrying behind him. His many acolyte daughters. He was a man with many children, Csialeide admired, his followers, whether they knew it or not, were all that dreamed. She wondered, with such power, if he knew where the ancient gods rested, deep asleep, perhaps wrapped in a cocoon of dreaming. His one blue and one gold eye, presumably the one he had taken from Novem, with its cat slit, peered at her in surprise. ¡®Csia! What a pleasant surprise!¡¯ She surmised he was eager to delve into her psyche, she had never opened her forest pool to the heavens before, and as he looked around, curious, she did her best to keep her doubts low in her mind, so as not to alert him with her thoughts, magnified as they were by her shell and the dark forest surrounding them. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. ¡®Noctua,¡¯ she rumbled, the entire glade shaking with the weight of her voice. ¡®What is it to be a mother?¡¯ He looked at her with a slight smile on his lips, his cat-eyes half-lidded. ¡®Parenthood, ah? It depends on the child, of course.¡¯ He turned, taking a walk around the pool as he thought, slight ripples under his feet as he strolled the water¡¯s surface. ¡®My full son Novem is a difficult one, full of himself and his own passions. Selfish, fickle, self-defeating. And I love him very very much.¡¯ He finished, wheeling back to look at Csialeide. ¡®My daughters on the other hand,¡¯ he said, raising a hand for one such daughter to alight upon it. ¡®Are lovely creatures.¡¯ He brought the moth to his mouth, eating her in one bite. ¡®They take their discipline quite seriously. Obedient. I love them as well, but they are less entertaining.¡¯ Csialeide averted her eyes in disgust. When she looked back Noctua was smirking at her, clearly amused by her reaction. ¡®You will love your children, but they may not always love you. It is a risk that is worth taking, in my opinion.¡¯ And with that he was gone, not a ripple on the pond to show he had been there. The branches wove back over the glade, blocking out the light from above once again, sealing in the glow from the fluorescent algae floating in the pond like a sea of stars. Csialeide found herself drowsy after his return, but resisted sleep, she wasn¡¯t sure of Noctua¡¯s involvement in her fatigue and was unwilling to be manipulated by his machinations. He had bragged before, about the methods he employed to collect dreams for his dream-wine. His daughters entering through the reflection of your eye, singing in the dreaming and unraveling fine dream fibers, leaving a silk worm covered landscape behind them. She was unwilling to become another of his victims, despite how sweet a dreaming it could be. Chapter 3: Songs so sweet She strolled through the mainland forest, a touch overwhelmed by the vibrancy of the life around her. Birds trilling, jewel bright insects buzzing, deer and raccoons and wild pigs abounded. So much life. And so unlike the other worldly stillness of her own forests. She had taken care to avoid detection from the human settlement nearby, busy as it was, humans sometimes only perceived what their minds allowed them to, focused on their own short existences. They had grown there for a few centuries, building on top of the debris of the previous city, demolished in the after effects of Roxom¡¯s calamity. The god-king had grown his demi-army much too close to Csialeide¡¯s shores, but she had been sleeping at the time, unaware of the danger close by. When she had woken to find the apocalypse at hand she had laughed at the nearness of the death that might have taken her. Cheating death had been something she hadn¡¯t had to think about for a very very long time. Not since her childhood, a small snail crawling along a celestial meteor of godseed. Her family had tried to consume the mineral therein as well, but she alone had survived the transition, eating over their corpses, ignorant of their demise in the half-consciousness she used to possess in her pupal form. She had consumed the entire meteor by the time the transition was complete, forming the base of her shell from the space rock. The calcium of bone had been added later, skeletal bodies offered at her altar as the city offered sacrifice to her, ancient as she was to them. They sought her protection, or at least her indifference. She had found them frivolous and uninteresting, caught up in the race to their deaths, accepting the sacrifices as her due tribute for not destroying them for building so close to her home. This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. The forest of whispers is what they called her woods, where mighty flora grew but no fauna. The stillness of the grave, as many of them would come to find for themselves, when they sojourned uninvited. They too joined their sacrificial brethren, when she devoured them, building her shell with their poisoned remains. The waters of her home were sweet and enticing, but deadly to the uninitiated. Only Csialeide¡¯s selected would survive their imbibement, to be accepted by her as acolytes. The process required the sacrifice of one¡¯s body, to be transformed into a shape befitting them and their new station. Csialeide paused at the base of a large water oak tree, though it only reached above her a nonsignificant measure. She hummed softly as she peered through its branches, her antennae weaving through the foliage, observing. A couple beetles mulled about, a caterpillar munching on the leaves, a raccoon peaked out at her from a hollow. Their lives were just as meaningless as the humans¡¯, but the simplicity, the focus of their experience appealed to her, reminding her of her own childhood. Was she looking for something similar to herself? Was she that self-absorbed that she only wanted children to see herself in them? Noctua had seemed to imply that the more difficult children were more interesting. But she didn¡¯t want to bring a child into her world just to watch it struggle. That was too selfish for her. A speckled bird sung sweetly from the branches, its song light and sorrowful all at once. When it caught sight of her it chirped curiously, tilting its head to take her in. With a sudden swoop it gilded onto one of her wisteria covered branches. She was delighted. Such a brave little bird, to approach a massive monolith such as her. A second bird joined it, more warily, a thread of grass in its beak. Slowly, a nest began to form in her branches. She watched, enchanted. She would be a mother soon. Chapter 4: Childling When she took the small family back to her forest, the parents followed, twittering their distress. Only one of the birdlings survived, thrashing about in the twisted corpses of her stillborn siblings, fulfilling the kin-sacrifice required for godhood to Csialeide¡¯s excitement. One by one she pushed the other chicks out of the nest, her parents focusing solely on her as she grew. Her parents grew sickly, the sparsity of food in Csialeide¡¯s forest wearing on them. Eventually they didn¡¯t return at all, either perished or abandoning their last remaining chick. But tenacious thing that she was, she crawled out of her nest, leaving her decaying siblings behind her, desperate to retain the life she had been given. She fell, caught in the eye cavity of one of the skulls in Csialeide¡¯s shell, sticky slime holding her in place. ¡®Eat, little one,¡¯ Csialeide cooed, eager for her fetal daughter to consume the godseed contained in her shell. Gradually she grew there, consuming both slime and mineral godseed to survive, transforming her small bird body, taking on the human form of the skull she had been enveloped in. Until finally she emerged, whole and perfect. ¡®Mother.¡¯ She said, looking at Csialeide as if she were her whole world. And she was. It was a heady, overwhelming sensation she had not entirely been prepared for. A being entirely dependent on her, that needed her in a way no one else ever had. Csialeide smiled down at her daughter. Her perfect one, her only child. Her Una. Her daughter was a curious child, constantly flitting about, retaining so much of her bird-like origins. And the questions. ¡®Can I eat this Mother?¡¯ ¡®Why does the pool shine Mother?¡¯ ¡®Why can¡¯t I leave the forest Mother?¡¯ She had deliberated on letting Una leave the forest for quite a while, worried about the humans being so close. It could be dangerous for such a frail godling to go about on her own. Novem, the god-eater was always on the prowl, as well. ¡®When you¡¯re older my loveling,¡¯ she replied, humming softly to sooth the child. The child was not soothed. She pouted petulantly and stomped away to get into other mischief. Being a mother was much more intensive than she had expected, her time was not her own anymore. But she supposed she was more invested in her daughter than other gods were in their progeny. She dived into the pool, sending fluorescent algae splashing out of the waters, blinking in distress. ¡®Look Mother, I¡¯m a good swimmer now! Even though I¡¯m a bird!¡¯ Una¡¯s idea of swimming was to remain floating on top of the water, she had not quite grasped that she could use her limbs to paddle about. Silly child, Csialeide thought indulgently, her thoughts echoing in the glade. Una grinned up at her, gap-toothed as, missing some baby teeth. Csialeide had been collecting them, precious mementos of her child¡¯s growth. She wouldn¡¯t be a child forever and Csialeide wanted to treasure her youth. She wasn¡¯t sure what she would do with them yet, but she couldn¡¯t bear to throw them away. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. Little Una collected things as well, little flecks of crystal that came off their larger counterparts, mushroom spore prints she made on stones, flower petal ink, smeared over her hands and face in markings whose meanings were only known to her. There were no animals in the forest for her to play with, but she still had her plants, almost all of them Csialeide¡¯s acolytes, they would have to be to survive in her wood. They were acolytes by accident, rather than design, and they mostly kept to themselves. They quietly lived in the way only plants can, their deep inner lives only communicated with each other. Una did her best to coax them to play with her, but it was futile. They were set in their ways, though they did view her with the fondness of a rambunctious younger sibling, the soft thrum of their thoughts a soft undercurrent to Csialeide¡¯s own deep hum. Unlike the plants and Csialeide¡¯s own thoughts, Una¡¯s thoughts, when they occasionally flared with her proximity to her mother¡¯s shell, were indecipherable. Part baby talk, part bird, they defied Csialeide¡¯s interpretation. But it was good for her daughter to have some privacy, she thought. ¡®Will I have a little sister, Mother?¡¯ Una asked her one day. ¡®A sister, my loveling, where did you hear such a thing?¡¯ Una was braiding her downy hair, still fluffy like a baby bird¡¯s, her concentration focused on not creating more knots than it already had. She had taken to insisting she could do it herself, slowly gaining her independence, Csialeide thought, with some wistfulness. ¡®The orchid flower by the pond called me little sister, she said she was the big sister.¡¯ Csialeide peered at the flower, which drooped slightly, cowed. She had not considered having another child, was very happy with this little one she had. Una had come from her body, grown from her flesh, an intrinsic part of herself, she felt that place in her being that her daughter occupied intensely. And raising Una was her joy. She had never expected that she could gain so much happiness just from another¡¯s mere existence. Of course eventually Una would go off on her own, to live her own life, and Csialeide had accepted this assured outcome with some dismay, but for now Una was still a baby godling, still in need of her Mother. ¡®You will be my one and only daughter, my Una.¡¯ she replied, her words filling the entire forest. Chapter 5: Seasons of change As Una grew she became increasingly disobedient, disappearing for days at a time, testing the boundaries of Csialeide¡¯s sovereignty, wandering farther and farther away from the pool. The island was large enough, but eventually she would come to the edge and see out of it, the ocean surrounding on three sides, but on the fourth side of the island, the sandbar leading to the mainland where the human settlement was, now a bustling metropolis. Not to mention the stone path that led directly there, the path along which tributes arrived. Csialeide did her best to be supportive of Una¡¯s new found independence, but she worried. Is this motherhood? She thought, a constant subtle fear in the back of your mind that something could happen to your children? The gods she would be willing to seek advice from dwindling, she decided to call upon the golden calf god Oongx, whose acolyte-initiates often traveled alone for years at a time, following her constellation across the sky. Oongx would know about loving her children from a distance, about giving them requisite independence. ¡®Go play,¡¯ she urged her daughter, preparing for the rites to summon Oongx to walk the earth. As Una scampered off, needing little prompting, Csialeide laid out Oongx¡¯s mandala, the formation complex and precise. At the center lay a sacrificial bone to burn, the flames would turn black when Oongx took notice. When the thunderstorm finally arrived she lit up the pyre, pulling back the trees once more to reveal the heavens. It didn¡¯t take long for Oongx to respond to her calling, and with a strike of lightning into the dark blaze, she appeared, her starry constellation form opaque and flashing with lightning. ¡®Csialeide,¡¯ she rumbled softly, her voice milky as a baby¡¯s, with a hint of thunder underneath disclosing her age. ¡®Oongx,¡¯ she hummed back, ¡®as a mother, how do you love your children from such distance?¡¯ A flash of lightning in the distance lit up the glade, the rumble of thunder following after, the soft plink plink plink of rain drops hitting the pool ringing out softly as Oongx considered the question. ¡®Children need discipline.¡¯ She rumbled. ¡®The structure is important for their growth. I do watch over them from a distance, but they need room to make their own mistakes. And I am there to guide them as they learn, that is the form of my love.¡¯ Csialeide turned the response over in her mind, ¡®my daughter has taken to wandering my forests, she avoids coming home for long stretches at a time, it is a distance from her I am unaccustomed to¡¯ she finally revealed. Oongx wouldn¡¯t take advantage of her daughter¡¯s vulnerability like another god would. Oongx looked around the glade. ¡®Does she¡­have companionship?¡¯ She asked, tilting her head at the unnatural stillness. ¡®Companionship?¡¯ Csialeide¡¯s startled thought echoes, reverberating all around the trees. ¡®Yes,¡¯ Oongx continued, ¡®more than just a mother, children need peers, they are important as well. Other beings so they learn empathy, cooperation. Or she will end up just as emotionally stunted as Novem god-eater.¡¯ She stamped a hoof, extinguishing the fire and scattering the mandala, done with the conversation. Csialeide slowly closed the branches above, pondering on this revelation. Csialeide had been given much to think on. Companionship. She had originally had a daughter to be her companion, to break up the blandness of her eternity. And Una had brought light into her life, but she was quickly realizing that though her daughter was everything to her, she wasn¡¯t everything to her daughter. The asymmetry of the relationship disturbed her. She couldn¡¯t be everything her daughter needed. It¡­it hurt more than she expected. Motherhood was not what she thought it would be. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. She mulled over Oongx¡¯s recommendations, pondering the dangers of bringing a companion to the woods. Both for Una and for that other being. Only the invited would survive, and many were irrevocably changed even then. Humans and other mortals were out of the question, she wouldn¡¯t allow her precious daughter to be tainted by their bizarre vices. Csialeide looked up, someone had passed the wooden structure marking the entrance to her woods, they were not cloaked in the human¡¯s ceremonial salt brine clothing, yet they were not succumbing to the toxicity of the forest. They must be the endless, then. She waited, patient as the beings made their way to her pool. Soon she could see their forms through the vegetation. A large four legged beast and a much smaller two legged form walking side by side. As they broke from the darkness their full shapes appeared, a monstrous strawberry tiger, its stripes a muted red, and a small girl, her dark hair reaching her feet, a beating heart pulsing gently in her hands. ¡®We¡¯ve been sent by mighty Oongx to accompany the goddess Una as her playmates.¡¯ The tiger spoke, his voice a fierce growl. Csialeide could see the slight starry lining to their forms, constellations then, the children of Nevah, their designation unknown to her. It would be rude to ask. ¡®Una,¡¯ she raised her voice, the hum filling the forest, causing the entire island to tremble. They waited, the tiger laying down, his breath coming out with a huff as his body hit the ground, the girl curled with her back in his chest, cross legged. Una stumbled into the glade, her fluffy hair in every direction, an overly large flower tucked behind her ear. ¡®Mother, Mother!¡¯ She called, not noticing the new arrivals. ¡®Look what I found washed up on the shore!¡¯ She waved the large feather in her hand. ¡®And look what I can do with it!¡¯ With the pop of space suctioning in the vacuum she left behind and a plop of the flower falling to the ground, she took the form associated with the feather, a kestrel. She soared around the glade, before seeing the visitors, and with another pop as she filled space once more, she fell from the air to land in front of them. ¡®Who are you?¡¯ She asked, eyes wide. ¡®Una,¡¯ Csialeide chidded, Oongx had been right, her daughter had no social grace. ¡®It is polite to greet the other beings and introduce yourself before demanding the other party tell you their own names.¡¯ Una looked properly cowed, ¡®Hello,¡¯ she greeted, a little perfunctory, ¡®I¡¯m Una, what are you called?¡¯ The other girl stood up, her hair like rainwater behind her, ¡®I am Sabea, and this¡¯ she gestured behind her with a graceful wave of her hand, ¡®is my counterpart Izar. We have come to accompany you.¡¯ Izar and Sabea proved suitable friends for her daughter, playing with her by the pool and the nearby forests. Csialeide was a little sad, she felt a bit as if she was not enough for Una, that she was no longer needed. But Una needed to grow into her own person, with her own values and ideas, and she couldn¡¯t do so while directly under Csialeide¡¯s antennaed eye. Una was beginning to grow a bit out of her spoiled phase, showing a little more thoughtfulness toward Izar and Sabea than she had towards her floral sisters, though her development did seem a little delayed compared to her more mature playmates. Csialeide assured herself Una would catch up, worried her ignorant isolation of her daughter had hindered her. Despite the space between them, Csialeide still loved watching the being that Una was growing into, even if it was at a greater distance than she had hoped when she had birthed her. She strove to be a good example to Una, but was unsure if Una even noticed her in the backdrop of her games with her new friends. It was lonely, seeing her daughter laugh with someone besides herself. She felt even more lonely than before she had decided to have Una, now that she knew what it was like to be someone¡¯s whole world. But she didn¡¯t regret the experience, wouldn¡¯t exchange it for anything. Una was her one true love. Chapter 6: Leaving the island ¡®Mother! Mother! Izar says he is going to the skies to see his village for a celebration! I want to go too, can I?!¡¯ Una hopped up and down, chirping, in her kestrel form. She had taken to wearing her bird skin more often, using it to out pace her friends when they raced around the island. ¡®I¡¯ll just watch, ok?¡¯ Csialeide had been rather dreading this moment. She didn¡¯t have a good reason preventing Una from leaving, accompanied as she would be by Izar and Sabea, under the protection of the skies themselves. But her deep seated worry about her daughter¡¯s wellbeing, the undefined fear of how the world outside would affect her daughter kept her from agreeing outright. ¡®Let me think about it loveling,¡¯ she responded, drawing out the inevitable. Una would eventually leave the island one way or the other, and it would be better if it was on good terms, knowing she had a safe place to return to if something befell her. Eventually she agreed, to Una¡¯s exuberant joy. The day of the celebration saw Una setting out with Izar and Sabea, the two of them ascending up to the skies like shooting stars to take their places among the other constellations, while Una wore her kestrel skin, flying along behind. The small fishing village celebrated Izar every year, thanking him for his assistance in directing their ancestors to their location, his claw pointing them towards the sun, where their promised land had been when they had traveled from a great distance away. The celebration would last all throughout the night, Izar¡¯s constellation high in the sky, though he would make a physical appearance on earth at its culmination. Sabea would hold onto their shared heart from high above, connected as she was to him through several shared stars, her own constellation known to other villages, but not this one. Csialeide watched them go, trailing glittering stardust behind them. She sighed, it would be a long night. She waited on the shore side, watching the sunset over the city, wondering what her daughter would be interested in next. Would she want to explore more of the human world? They did wear her form, she might be drawn in. Her interest had already been piqued by the allure of a human celebration, soon she might want to know more about them, and might be intrigued by their short and eventful lives. Should she guide her interest away? Bring her into the realm of other gods so that she might learn more of her true heritage? It was a dangerous proposition, but perhaps overdue. Keeping her ignorant could only cause her harm. They returned the next morning, Una yawning but animated, eager to share everything she had seen with her mother. ¡®And they ate these really tasty skewers, and there was lots of dancing!¡¯ Csialeide hummed along patiently, just glad that Una had returned in one piece, though from the sound of it she had done more than just watch, as she had said she would. Una was exuberant for long after, playing new games that she had presumably learned during her outing. ¡®Mother, the outside world is so much fun, why don¡¯t we go out more often?¡¯ Csialeide sighed, it was time to introduce her to the dangers of the outside, in a controlled environment of course, so that she would not be vulnerable when she left the nest. ¡®Loveling, how would you like to go to another celebration, with Mother this time?¡¯ Una looked at her with wide eyes, bobbing her head excitedly. Csialeide decided to bring her daughter to a celebration at Ketsuri¡¯s domain, she seemed a somewhat less perilous choice than get togethers at some of the others¡¯. Ketsuri¡¯s current residence was incidentally in the city next to them, a personal wing in her favored casino Miss Fortune, a pocket dimension only perceivable to those with higher ability. Occasionally a mortal being might be born with perceptive eyes, but they often learned very quickly to keep their head down. Gods did not care to be perceived without intention, and voyeurism, no matter how accidental, was unwelcome and merited quick retaliation. Ketsuri¡¯s acolyte Felix greeted them at the entrance, using his golden door knob, molded in the image of his goddess in her cochineal form, to open the portal, thrusting it into the air and twisting. The door appeared before them, opening, paper thin and covered in glyphs drawn in red ink, spinning weirdly when one looked at them for too long. ¡®Careful, loveling,¡¯ Csialeide said, blocking her daughter¡¯s view of the hypnotic symbols, ¡®look too long and you won''t be able to look away.¡¯ Una flushed, whether embarrassment or fear Csialeide was unsure. She kept one tentacled eye on her daughter as they entered, the other peering about to see who else was about. Una was looking about, innocent eyes wide at so many new sights. Ketsuri was holding court among a cohort of younger gods, chattering away and drinking some sort of drink with a small rain cloud hovering over it, occasionally letting out a flash of purple lightning and spitting sparks. Zsa Zsa was signing with a god she didn¡¯t recognize, a massive draped mushroom god with long flowing mycelium dragging on the floor behind him, alight with electric signals, apparently his mode of communication given his lack of a mouth. Seeing Csialeide, Zsa Zsa excused herself, making a beeline towards her and Una. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡®Csia! How lovely to see you again, it¡¯s been so long! And look! Is this who I think it is?!¡¯ Despite her reservations about Zsa Zsa, she couldn¡¯t help but boastfully introduce her daughter to one of her oldest acquaintances. ¡®Yes, this is Una, my daughter. Una, loveling, this is Zsa Zsa.¡¯ Una ducked her head, shyly. ¡®Hello Zsa Zsa, it¡¯s very nice to meet you.¡¯ She had come so far in her education of social niceties, Csialeide thought proudly. ¡®Ah, and a human child, how delicious. I mean delightful, delightful, of course.¡¯ Zsa Zsa signed. Csialeide decided to politely ignore her slip up, though she did eye her beadily. ¡®And let me introduce you to my consort, we¡¯ve only been seeing each other for a century or so, so you haven¡¯t yet met him, Pukk, my love, come meet Csialeide and her sweet child!¡¯ She waved to her consort, getting his attention and signing with quick agile gestures. A large dappled buck came bounding over, a spider¡¯s mandible where his mouth should be, his magnificent antlers homing delicate spindly spider webs and a single large peacock spider, bizarrely alight on it, despite their usual proclivity of hunting without them. He greeted them with a bow, stretching a foreleg forward and dipping his head elegantly. The spider waved to them cheerily, clicking its greetings. A gong sounded, interrupting them, indicating the beginning of the games. Csialeide took her daughter to join a round table, sitting behind Una and guiding her hands until Una learned the rules for herself. She then retired to one of the lounges to sip on one of the cocktails, careful not to let Una leave her sightline just yet. Soon Una seemed to be winning more than she was losing, laughing in delight at her victories and collecting a large accumulation of glittering treasure. Csialeide smiled, her daughter was a fast learner. As the evening went on, more gods departed, taking their winnings or their losses with them, until only a smaller grouping remained. They had stayed much longer than Csialeide had anticipated, but she couldn¡¯t bear to call Una away when she was having so much fun. They had switched to a game of chance, presumably to limit Una¡¯s winning streak, but it didn¡¯t seem to be having much effect. Ketsuri, the luck god herself, had joined the table, though she appeared to be among those left in the wake of Una¡¯s victories. With a covert movement, she plucked a golden string out of the air, her finger holding it gently in a summoning gesture. Dewy beads of luck slid along it, straight from Una¡¯s chest, unbeknownst to her. A subtle smirk settled on Ketsuri¡¯s cochineal red lips, the only skin besides her golden eyes visible beneath her burial wrappings, as Una lost the game, a pout on her face. ¡®Ketsuri,¡¯ Csialeide rumbled, her hum rocking the very air. Ketsuri froze, clearly surprised at being caught. ¡®Return my daughter¡¯s luck.¡¯ The smile returned to Ketsuri¡¯s face, a full one this time. ¡®Oh? The goddess of whispers and secrets takes issue with my claim? All luck is mine, just waiting to be returned to its origin. This luck was borrowed from the beginning.¡¯ Csialeide hummed, the sound of whispers rising. An overwhelming pressure took over the room, beings collapsing, holding their ears, their eyes. Ketsuri released the thread, breaking the connection, a bloody spot forming on the bandages over her nose, dying her lips a second, darker shade of red as it trickled down her face, dripping below to her chest. The golden dew of luck snapped back into a shocked Una, the only one resistant to her mother¡¯s oppressive aura. Csialeide quieted, the whispers returning to her shell, relieved beings stood slowly, shaken, but none quite so shaken as Ketsuri, who had collapsed over the table. ¡®Loveling,¡¯ Csialeide called, ¡®I think now is a good time to make our exit.¡¯ Una quickly stepped past a near-comatose Ketsuri to join her mother. ¡®Goodbye sweet Una! I hope to see you again soon!¡¯ Zsa Zsa called behind them as they made their departure, a bewildered Felix opening the door for them to leave. As a treat, Csialeide decided to take Una through the human¡¯s city, the humans parting around her, their eyes sliding right over the giant snail in their midst. They walked through a public garden, human children and their pets running around, playing. ¡®May I join, Mother?¡¯ Una asked, her eyes wide and guileless, as if she hadn¡¯t just been on the receiving end of a god¡¯s envy. ¡®Of course loveling, but be careful not to harm them, they¡¯re weaker and more delicate than Izar and Sabea.¡¯ Una took off running, joining in easily. She fit so easily among them, Csialeide worried. A shout voiced from the field where Una had disappeared to. ¡®It¡¯s a miracle!¡¯ A giant bird flew down from the top of a tree, a small child on its back, clutching on tightly, fearful from having been stuck at the top for so long, its grubby face wet with tears. The bird alighted delicately on the ground, careful not to jostle the child. The parents rushed up, scooping the child into worried embrace, thanking the Una profusely. Una shook her body, feathers melting into skin as she shrunk back down into her human form. Humans bowed down before her, revenant and in awe. Una slipped back into incognito, stepping from visible to invisible before their astonished eyes. She ran back to Csialeide, ¡®Mother, Mother! Did you see, I made them so happy!¡¯ Csialeide hummed, doing her best to be encouraging towards her daughter¡¯s interests, no matter how confusing they were to her. ¡®Very good, loveling!¡¯ Una beamed. They returned home soon after, but not before Una had snagged some street food for herself, having discovered a love for it on her last outing with Izar and Sabea. She spoke around her mouth full of sticky candy, ¡®Mother, can we come back? I really like the humans, they get excited so easily, it¡¯s so fascinating.¡¯ Csialeide eyed her, ¡®don¡¯t speak with your mouth full, you¡¯ll get food everywhere. Do you really like them so much?¡¯ She asked, slightly wistful. It would be so much easier if she didn¡¯t find them as interesting as she clearly did. Getting involved in human affairs was a messy business, they were such a vice ridden species, so greedy for power without paying its rightful price. Gods understood these things were about reciprocity. She worried about how their wasteful emotions might affect Una, who was still a growing child, barely a century old. ¡®If it¡¯s what you will,¡¯ she finally sighed. As Oongx said, she had to let her daughter discover the world and its rules on her own. Chapter 7: Leave the nest After their foray into the city, Csialeide didn¡¯t restrict her daughter¡¯s travel from the island, letting her come and go as she pleased. Una had made the decision to take on the city as devotees, despite Csialeide¡¯s cautions. She frequently bequeathed them gifts and miracles, delighted by their enthusiastic response to her every action, the church of Avis taking root as a city religion with her as their patron saint and goddess. It was a thrall many gods fell under, the euphoria of worship. ¡®Their lives are so vibrant, and they have such strange, complex emotions¡¯ she tried explaining to her mother, but Csialeide still couldn¡¯t understand the appeal. Perhaps if she had her own human form she might have better understood, but despite the bodies of her sacrifices entombed within her shell, she had not formed herself one, content as she was. As Una was increasingly absorbed with the human city, Csialeide had taken to other hobbies, resuming her calling to collecting secrets. Every whisper in a shell was a message to her that she was honor bound to listen to, without judgment, and she had reneged on her duties for too long while Una preoccupied her. She had quite the backlog of secrets to process. She missed the simpler days a little, when Una was a hatchling, just formed and satisfied with the pool in the glade. But somethings must come to an end, and Una had grown from hatchling into a young goddess. The sacrifices she had made for her daughter were all ones she had been glad to make, worth the price, even if it hadn¡¯t felt that way at the time, if at times she even regretted having a daughter. She felt Una¡¯s pain as if she herself were experiencing it firsthand, sacrificed her emotional wellness prioritizing Una¡¯s needs over her own, exhausted her body giving birth to her by feeding Una her own godseed. She had felt at times, as if her own needs were irrelevant, an implicit guarantee that of course she should sacrifice to the greater importance of Una¡¯s happiness. But with some distance, some perspective, it was worth it to see Una¡¯s smile. Stolen novel; please report. She wondered if the humans who made sacrifices to her felt the same. That the lives they gave up to her as tribute for living on her shore were worth the price. Did the humans chosen go quietly? Did they believe in the importance of their deaths, or did they go unwillingly, selected by their peers? Reciprocity was a keystone of a god¡¯s existence, quintessential to their birth and an instilled virtue thereafter. It was impossible to do without. But to be inequitable was human, the disbalance in their lives an indisputable fact. She understood that a little bit better now, the asymmetry of a relationship, where what was put in didn¡¯t feel proportionate to the returns. Her dependence on Una¡¯s happiness was unknown to her daughter. And yet. She had no regrets. She hoped, a little, that the humans felt the same, for their sakes. She wondered, as she watched her daughter flit back and forth across the city, observing their human lives, if she had done a good job raising Una. She could have introduced her to other divine beings sooner, rather than keeping her so sheltered, could have given her more friends, if that would have changed towards an interest in gods, rather than humans. If she would have been less beguiled by their worship. But Una was still growing, still learning. And no matter how she grew up, Csialeide couldn¡¯t wait to see who Una would become. Resources Motherhood https://www.momschoiceawards.com/blog/moms-describe-what-it-means-to-be-a-mother/ https://medium.com/i-mother/the-art-of-letting-your-children-go-842defccc783 https://www.nytimes.com/guides/well/guide-to-modern-parenting https://www.forbes.com/sites/tracybrower/2021/05/08/being-a-mom-can-be-hard-heres-how-to-be-happy/?sh=47115f342820 The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. https://sleepingshouldbeeasy.com/motherhood-hard/ https://edubirdie.com/examples/the-mothers-sacrifices-and-modern-issues/ https://www.imom.com/5-beautiful-sacrifices-of-being-a-mother/ https://swimfly143.medium.com/sacrifices-in-motherhood-9715e7b81afa Peacock spider https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maratus_volans Tarot https://labyrinthos.co/blogs/tarot-card-meanings-list https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tarot_card_games