“You wanted to speak with my father?” The Godling, Haru the Young God of Creation, took his father by surprise.

“HARU!” the frazzled man spins around to face one of his youngest sons, “How many times have you been told to announce your entrance!?”

“This is our family's private home, father, I did not think it necessary. My Apologies.” The boyish figure was still in the bowing stance he had first spoken in, “Should I exit and reenter?”

“No, don't be ridiculous!”

“We have matters to discuss with you dear. Have a seat. The less dallying the better.” Haru’s Eldest Sister, Amari, rushed him to his seat.

Most of his siblings were gathered alongside his parents. His father was as boisterous as usual and his mother was more silent and teary-eyed as he had often seen her as late.

“Of course my elder sister.” He bowed slightly lower, before righting himself and rushing over to his seat.

“So father, now that we are all here… What did those Creatine Gods of Death have to say?” Eero’s, The Eldest Son of the Life Gods, voice was practically dripping with malice.

“They have agreed to a second version of the deal.”

“Good.” Amari nods, posing delicately across the lounge she laid on, “Very good. They have come to their senses then.”

“They should have bent the knee and agreed to our declaration when it was first made!” Eero’s eyes rolled as he huffed.

Full of themselves. That's all Haru could think about his family, the whole lot of them were just full of themselves. Self-important, inflated-egos, nonsensical, narcissistic, idiotic fools! That's all they all were, himself included at this point.

Haru understood his place in this world, more than his brothers, sisters, and parents seemed to. More than their supporters seemed to. Haru knew that the only reason they were able to go on how they have for generations parading about like kings was because they were allowed to by the true one.

Very few of his family seemed to know that, and unfortunately it seemed the only sane ones who recognized their true place in the world order were always the one at the bottom of the power chain.

Haru understood it all, of course. One does not survive in a family of deities this stupid unless you hone your skills of observation, and all it took to understand the true matters of things was to observe. It was quite simple actually, so much so that it was horrifying that the rest of the family didn't seem to know it. Ignorance is bliss they say, and he supposes that that includes purposeful ignorance.

The Gods and Goddesses of Life weren't Gods. That is the plain and simple truth of the matter. Deities are all-powerful forces of every plane of existence. Every aspect of any little thing can be attributed to a godling being created. They were in control of their own element, what was theirs was fully their own. Most importantly deities were eternal, everlasting, immortal. The Gods of Life were not. They lived and died, they had ancestors and generations of those who had been.

This was his father’s point of contention for his long but certainly not immortal life.

“Indeed they should have, I am king!” Haru’s father’s reedy voice squalled from the other end of the room.

“So what is this version of the deal they have come to about?” Niran, Haru’s more golden skinned brother was lazed back by their mother, all elegance and poise.

“Well, they haven't fully come around to it, stupid as they are. But he seems more amenable to it than the first.” The king sat back hard in his pile of gaudy ruffles and tight shiny fabrics, all the signs of wealth. The one that was spoken was laden in disgust and dare Haru say, envy.

The God of Death was the envy of Haru’s father, of all of the life gods that came before as well. Even the first one, who could all fool themselves into believing they had ‘won’ the throne from Lord Death. He was power, He was in control of an element, HE was immortal amongst the Gods. He was the true King, and his children the true princes and princesses of the gods-plains.

Or they should be.

For some reason, one that not even the Goddesses of wisdom, knowledge, and understandings nor the Gods of history, insight, and strategy, not even the great Deities of Existence and Time; Iaikhya and Tiavon could pretend to know, Lord Death had given up his throne to the first Goddess of Life. Completely willingly, without even having been asked, taking nothing in return for it.

Nothing but pure immunity and separation from the Life Gods. Nothing from Haru’s family or their court would ever be able to touch the Lord’s Death realms.

His father, as all the previous Life Gods who had ruled before, was hatching some half-baked plot to gain all the precious gifts that he felt denied.

Power, Control, and Immortality.

Why his siblings were always so eager to help their father with his plans was beyond Haru. All they wanted was to inherit the crown, so they all sucked up to him, preening and pruning and practically licking the ground he walked on in worship. They must know his plan was stupid and bound to fail, because if they didn't: if they truly thought it would work, how would they inherit the throne?

A new ruler was only appointed after the old one died, if their father was immortal, there would be no new queen or king after him.

“And what is the second deal father?” Amari brought the room back to her, she is always good at bringing the room back to her. The eldest daughter certainly took after their mother, a half-goddess daughter of one of the Gods of beauty.

“He will marry one of you instead.”

A human in the room could have heard a pin drop on the mortal plane as an unnatural silence took over the room. Even Eero had a hard time disguising his confused disgust from slipping past his well trained mask of perfect complexion.

Their mother had started sobbing again, quietly, so quietly that the only sign that she was crying was the harsh shaking of her shoulders and the fat silver tears that were practically pouring down her face.

Amari had her mouth hanging half open, deep brown eyes staring glazed over her father.

Niran had stopped performing his life functions; breathing, the beating of the heart, the movement of blood, all of which he had kept up for centuries for aesthetics. Haru had never seen Niran give up on his aesthetics.

Haru only came to when he realized something that would have made his blood run cold, if he had had any in his veins.

“Why am I here?” The first noise in the perfect silence felt far too loud, like glass shattering in an echoing cave, no matter how quietly the young Life God had whispered it.

Haru was one of the middle children of the King of the Gods. Only the eldest were ever gathered for ‘strategic meetings’ held by their father, only the youngest were ever doted upon by their mother endlessly, only the eldest were seen by the Deities of other courts, and only the youngest were allowed into the other plains to play and frolic amongst the other creatures. The ones in between were expected to make a name for themselves that was of use to the family, or to be forgotten like a ghost of the old ones.

Haru was a ghost, he had been a ghost for as long as he had known how his family worked. He had put hundreds upon hundreds of years into being a ghost.

He shouldn't be here.

He didn't want to be here.

He wanted to be a ghost, forgotten by the family until he reached his first Eon. That was when a Godling became free, no longer reliant on their parents' power. An Eon was the age that a Godling became a God.

Haru was nearly there. He had barely a couple more Mega Annums to go. A few million years and he would be free, which is hardly anything to the Gods even the ones who age and die like mortals do.

Eero was the first to seem to recover out of all his siblings, startled out of his disgusted shock by Haru’s whisper. The eldest born’s stare seemed to bore into his soul. “Why is Haru here, father?”

“Why else!? To be useful!”

“How useful is it?” Eero was putting the pieces together as his usually forgotten brother had, and he wasn't pleased at all. Haru could tell, Eero’s mind was turning, his thoughts racing as he put two and two together.

“To be married!” their father huffs unceremoniously, as if it were obvious.

That is when the commotion started. The elder siblings arguing, vying for their father’s attention, vying for the power that would come with this deal. As undesirable as the Gods of Death were to them, as disgusted by the idea of this marriage pact was to them, it meant power. It meant the throne.

It meant a chance, for whomever married The Lord Death, at immortality.

An eternal rule on the throne of the Gods with the most powerful being as their consort.

If that didn't appeal to the preening, vain, and vapid life gods then what would?

Cremation sat in his gazebo on the mist-covered cliffs of his father’s domain. The Honorable Death had been anxiously waiting for this day, spending far longer than he would like to admit on his hair and face before he left. The letter that he had barely managed to hide from his father, brother, and spectators tucked into his pocket.

“Oh where is my little Crow…?” Kaso sing-songs softly. It was completely silent around him, the mist swallowing any noises that one would make.

Kaso leans back against one of the pillars, messy brown hair falling into his eyes as his hands trace the intricate pattern of scars on his face. He isn't used to silence and, unlike his family, he is not fond of it.

The noise of others was comforting in a way to him, even the simple noise of the environment was soothing to him. Yet here he was, sitting in the most deafening silence one could find in any plain. The silence gave way to too many of his thoughts, thoughts that he had buried deep for the sake of those he cared about.

Each of the Death’s had a manner of burial that they required for their followers.

Their father took in any who died and those who were buried in any way, though he usually preferred a token to be with them. Pythios was the Death of Decay, the patient death, the gentle death. She let those who came through her burial take their time, let their souls rest as their bodies fully wasted away in the open air burials she preferred. Arwan was too young to have a good duty and had yet to choose a manner of burial or be given a moniker, though Kaso often thought to himself that they would be much like him, demanding their souls quickly and with a sacrifice.

Kaso was known as the God of Creation. He demanded of his followers, typically warriors or chieftains or kings, to be cremated upon their deaths. All the faster to bring their souls to his domain, and it used the element of Fire, of which he was a part.

He burned just as brightly as the brightest sun, he raged hotter than any star. Creatures who had been born in fire, were a part of fire, lived in fire had suffered burns from his flames and temper. Though only ones who never seemed harmed were his father, Cassuis, the fire sprites, and the entity who was the element of fire itself.

If he thought too much, that burning would break free and harm those around him. He had burned Pyth before, though he had yet to accidentally harm Arawn…

“Kaso!” The sudden cherry chirp of his name awoke him from his thoughts, turning he sees a small figure with raven’s wings cutting through the mist.

“There is my little Crow…” he sighs happily as the figure of his lover grows closer.

“Kaso!” Crow chirps again, plowing into the tanned God and grabbing onto his arms tightly. “I’ve missed you so much! Why did you have to go and get so busy!” Crow’s wings flutter for a bit before they settle snugly on his back.

“Hey you got busy too! One day I got off and you were out in the mortal plain!”

Crow’s wings fluttered more furiously against his arms as the younger godling huffed.

“I'm sorry my beloved,” Kaso whispers into the younger one‘s hair as he holds onto him tightly.

“I don't want an apology.” Crow shifts gently, avoiding the map of scars that cover both him and his beloved Death, so that he could look at his lover’s face with a pout.

“Hm?” Kaso’s eyes sparkle as he sees Crow’s adorable pouting face. “You don't want an apology? Then what is it you want my daling Crow?”

Crow huffs and stares at Kaso with a pout as they huddle closer together in the middle of the gazebo.

“I can give you nearly everything my darling, simply tell me what you want~” the amber death sing-songs to his lover, swaying the two of them gently as Crow’s feet touch the ground.

“You know what I want.” The younger huffs again, his black feathered wings puffing up in his agitation at Kaso’s games.

“Do I?” Kaso feigned ignorance as he stares down at Crow with a loving twinkle in his eyes. “You haven't told me what it is yet, so how could I know?”

“You know what I want!" Crow slips from the older God’s grasp, giggling a bit while still trying to pout for the sake of their little game.

“I don't, my dearest, for you haven't told me.” he keeps insisting, quickly moving to chase Crow as he flits into the air.

The two seemingly danced around the gazebo, Crow flitting around just out of reach of his lover while Kaso reached out to bring him back into his embrace.

“My Crow, why do you fly away from me?” Kaso declares, to which Crow laughs and allows his hand to be held by Kaso, or his waist to be brushed gently by his lover’s fingers. Still the two continue this little game of theirs, forgetting all else that was in their life, alone with each other in the thick mist.

Finally Kaso couldn't take it any longer and he pounces onto Crow when the younger lets his feet touch the ground. Holding him firmly, yet ever so gently, careful of the painful marks that cover his birdie. He buries his face into Crow’s soft feathers and hair once more.

“Darling, I've caught you!” He declares softly as his grip grows carefully tighter around his lover.

“I'm so glad!” Crow proclaimed, turning around in his lover’s hold to face him. “Now kiss me my darling!”

Crow grasps Kaso's cheeks between his hands, gently keeping in mind the areas where his lover’s skin was scarred, and kisses him with great vigor. Crow is not one to wait or slowly take his time with what he loves, so his kiss was fast and full of passion as the two stumble a bit until Kaso gently leans back up against the wall.

“If I had known that is what you wanted from me darling I would've given it to you straight away.” the older of the two gasps breathlessly when the two part from their kiss.

“You knew it was what I wanted,” Crow murmured, diving back in to kiss his lover once again.

“I just wanted to hear you say it-” he barely manages to get out when Crow pulls away for a moment before quickly sealing the two of them together once more.

The two spent what felt like mere seconds holding and kissing one another before a small voice interrupted them.

“Excuse me my lords, but Lord Cremation is required by Lord Death.” Lais Min was flitting near one of the gazebo’s openings, keeping his face turned away from the two.

“Can it wait?” Kaso snipes, annoyed that his limited time with his beloved was being cut ever shorter.

“No, he was very insistent, my lord. I tried to make excuses but he demanded that I fetch you away from whatever you were busy with…” Min speaks sadly. They knew of their master’s affair, and knew that the two were hardly able to get any time together.

Kaso sighs heavily, leaning his head back onto the pillar he was leaning against as Crow continues to peck little kisses onto his cheeks and neck.

“Stay for just a moment longer Kaso.” He begs softly between pecs, gently stroking his lover’s hair and cheek with his hands as Kaso holds him closer and tighter.

“Father sounds in a foul mood…” he murmurs as the two share another kiss, slower yet just as passionate this time.

“Just another moment…” The young raven begged again. “I haven't seen you in years and now you’re being swept away again.”

“I'm sorry Crow…” Kaso begins, he hates to upset his lover like this. But he had his responsibilities and duties to attend to and couldn't truly do as he wished.

“I came all this way!”

“I know, I'm sorry Crow… But..” Kaso sighs heavily, head leaning back against the stone of the gazebo, “Things are happening. Big things… bad things.”

“Promise me the next time will be soon.” Crow’s voice broke softly as a single tear escapes his eyes. He knew Cremation couldn't help it, he knew that the Youngest Death was just as busy as his father and brother. It would be easier to meet if the two were married, or even just able to be open about their relation with the other, but it was not to be.

“I’ll do everything I can to make the time we are apart short,” Kaso whispers as the two share one last kiss, gently reaching up to wipe the tear from Crow’s cheek.

“I'll miss you.”

“I already miss you…” Kaso leaned his forehead against Crow’s whispering.

“Crow, promise me you’ll be safe. There's a lot that's going to happen, you can't tell anyone but you need to be safe. When it all starts, come find me. I'll protect you, I promise.”

“I'll try. You know how hard it is for me to get away.” Crow’s wings wrapped around Kaso’s slowly retreating form.

“Run away and hide if you need to. The Sprites will host you, go to them if you can't get to me.”

“I love you.” Black feathers finally relinquished their grip on him as Crow released their entwined hands.

“I love you.” Kaso smiled, before darting away to Lais Min, a slowly angry glower taking over his expression.

“Do you think it wise to give both of them the day off? We’ll be down four sets of hands.”

Cassius was busy at one of the many massive shelves in the workspace. It held hundreds of thousands of records of every mortal who had ever lived. It had to be reorganized after Kaso and Lais Min had all but ransacked it the other day while looking for a single record.

“Pythios and Kaso only have one pair of hands each Cassuis…” Anthuinus, as he tends to do when he becomes engrossed in his work, had not truly been paying attention and answered somewhat confusedly.

“Indeed they do Sire. However, wherever your two children are, Árchontas Paolo and Lais Min are to be nearby, making that four sets of hands.”

Anthious was silent, scribbling away on this record and that before his pen stilled.

“Have I gone insane or is there three times the amount of paperwork for the Viely Kingdom then there should be?”

“Well you know how those Life-God Worshipping fools are. Follow those idiots with the promise of immortality which they don't even have.”

“Cassius, there is far too much paperwork… And I'm fairly certain that these four reports are about the same soul.”

“Duplicates perhaps?”

“No, all four are by different reapers…”

“Damn. And we just had that meeting about cross referencing.”

“We’ll have to go down and figure out what's going on. If it's the group I'm thinking of then chances are they’re just killing to kill again rather than collecting the already dead.”

“Dammit. Of all days Kaso had to be off…”

“Get Arawn, and let Pyth and Kaso know where we’ll be.”

“We’re bringing Lais Arawn?”

“The fifth floor just got more spirit animals in, they’ll love it.”

“And the fifth floor weakens the chaos magick that powers the worst of the reapers. Genius as always my lord. I’ll fetch the child then, and alert Árchontas Paolo and Lais Min to our location.”

“Brilliant. I’ll meet you at the gates then.”

Anthious stood from his desk and the Spectator and Master parted ways. The leather clad beaked figure went towards the interior of the palace while the slowly growing and befeathered form of Anthious headed down the long hallway to the afterlifes.

The reapers were always an interesting affair to deal with. The souls of mortals either too horrible or too good to be dealt with immediately, stuck in an odd limbo state. When Pythious had taken on his duties as a Death God he had presented her plane to make use of them. Anthious, ever so proud of his darling eldest and his innovation, had allowed her to start the project.

Giving them a job of collecting, chasing down, and hunting souls. The more… sane ones were in charge of simply collecting lost and wandering souls, the ones ore of the middle ground were in charge of finding those who were meant to be souls but had - for some reason- not yet died and dealing with them, while the derannged ones were in charge of hunting those down who were to foul to let continue living or had tried to escape death.

Presently Kaso dealt with most of them, Except Groups 7, 17, and 39 which primarily dealt with the souls of children, animals, and the elderly and were overseen by Pythius.

For the most part, the reapers were lovely beings, if a little odd. A majority adored the Deaths and were entirely grateful for the second chance at ‘life’. So, for the most part, dealing with the reapers was a lovely if occasionally ditzy affair. They were technically lost souls, simply ones given a new purpose, so eow and then their memory just becomes nonexistent and there are a few clerical errors here and there. Easily caught and rectified of course.

There were more… deranged ones.

Anthious and Cassuis had realized that there were an increasing number of occasions where souls simply weren't leaving their mortal bodies.

It nearly started a zombie epidemic. Dead souls operating slowly decaying corpses. Most reapers were entirely unable to remove a soul from a body, they were meant for collection. Souls usually leave the body after they die, becoming akin to ghosts who wander the mortal plain. The reapers simply find and collect these souls, bringing them to the afterlife where they are sorted and dealt with. So a new class of reapers had to be developed for these odd cases of souls not leaving their bodies.

These reapers were a bit more odd than the others. Most of them were lovely, though there were a few who stood out as nearly horrific.

The real deranged ones came from the final class of reapers, the ones sent out on hunts.

The hunts were when a person HAD to die. Anthious would decide who this was and send the reapers out to hunt down and kill them, ripping their souls away and bringing them directly to him.

This didn't happen often so this last class of reapers usually performed normal duties. Which caused them to get restless, which made them violent, which made them a danger.

Pythios dealt with the first class of reapers, Kaso with the second, and Anthious with the final.

“Father!” Arawn wiggled their way out of Cassuis’ arms and bolted towards him. They had a little brown and white feathered cloak on with a beaked hood design, absolutely adorable.

“Hello Precious. Are you excited to see the little spirit animals?” Anthious reached down to stroke his child’s cheek, the little one giggling and clinging to him.

“I wanna see them!” Arawn was bouncing around, running ahead of their father before darting back and doing circles around him and Cassuis.

Kaso’s temperament was very much the embodiment of the Type of God he was.

The Amber Child of Death, The Honorable Death, Anthious’ loudest child, The God of Cremation.

He was as fiery as the flames in the underworld that he controlled. He was buried as bright and as stubbornly as the fires he had been formed in.

If Pythios had been a piece of their father’s soul mixed with the night made flesh, the Kaso was a piece of his father that had been dipped into the sun by his heel.

The Godling was brash, loud, stubborn, hot tempered, overly confident, and burned constantly. Certainly a change of pace from the ever quiet and gentle Silver One and the ever inquisitive Little Death.

Regardless, he was most certainly his father's son, and his day began when Anthious’ did.

Kaso rose alongside his father and was in the workroom to discuss what needed to be done by the time Anthious was.

Pythios preferred to take his time in the morning, grooming and polishing herself to perfection before starting her day.

Kaso and Lais Min just threw whatever worked over his head and headed out.

The Fire Sprite was currently in his room, tugging his hair into spikes this way and that as the Amber One hung upside down on one of the many near charred lounges in his sitting room.

“This is horrible.”

“I know… One day you are completely off and your little birdie isn't even around…”

“Do not mock me, Min.”

“I will mock you as I please.” The sprite huffed, flitting off of kaso’s shoulder and hanging upside down mid-flight in front of his face. “You really just need to tell everyone about this already. Especially your family, most certainly your father at the very least.”

“Absolutely Not!” Kaso swung himself back up, brushing the pixie off quickly as he huffed and puffed over to the window. Leaning out of it as his flames burned brighter around him.

“Kaso…”

“What do you know about it?!” Kaso whipped around, teeth bared in a snarl, “You are here only to assist in my duties, nothing more! You are to assist in managing the reapers, maintaining the underworld, controlling your kin, filing paperwork for the rebirth process, and helping me come up with good punishments for the veil souls! That! Is! All!”

Lais Min stood suspended in flight, orange arms crossed over the brown leather tunic and black brows quaking, unimpressed by the godling's outburst.

“Need I remind you that I know far more about it than you?”

Kaso stood silent, seething, flames rolling off of him.

“Your flames dont scare me child, I am a being of pure fire and I am many hundreds of thousands years older than you.”

Kaso stilled, fire still burning but dying down.

“I understand you are upset about this whole prophecy incident and how your father wishes to handle things, but you must get over it. You cannot continue to take things out on those around you.”

More silence, less fire.

“Asides from that, shall I remind you that I not only have many children of my own but I also have assisted my hundreds of brothers and sisters in gaining spouses of their own? I know very much about this topic, so obviously, I know nothing about it.”

A Huff, practically snorting, as Kaso leaned against his balcony rail muttering an apology.

“I don't care about your outbursts, Kaso, I wouldn't have stuck around this long if I did.” The sprite flitted over to him, flicking his forehead before plopping down onto his shoulder, “Now, We have the day off! That means no Reaper meetings, no paper work, no meetings with your father, no afterlife maintenance, no punishments, and a whole lot of free time!”

“And all but nothing to do with it!” Kaso groaned, sliding down onto the floor, “I usually have to drive myself to exhaustion just to make time for seeing them! And now they aren't even here!”

“You could go see your friends. The Godlings of Undying Loyalty, Provincial Hope and Unknowing Fear, and the Health of the Mind, are currently in the hanging gardens.”

“Ugh….” Kaso let out a mournful groan, sinking deeper into the stone of his floor.

“Kaso… Even Young Master Pythios is going to the Hanging Gardens today.”

“Even more of a reason to avoid it! If I go there while he's there, we’re going to have to socialize and I'll have to introduce him to my friends."

Kaso paused, head rising to stare confusedly at the hovering Lais Min, “Does… Does Pyth even have friends to visit at the gardens? He hasn't been out for a personal social reason since before I was formed…”

Lais Min shrugged, their wings slowing to a flutter as they landed on the Godling’s raised knee.

“So… You don't have work to do, you don't want to visit your friends. Pythios is busy and in the place you don't want to be, Arawn is with your father who you don't want to be around…”

“And my bird isn't even here!”

A quiet, near musical hum came from the sprite along with a mischievous glow.

“What if…. I was told to tell you that a black feathered creature dropped off a little letter earlier today?”

Kaso sprung up so quickly that Laid Min went flying across the room, “WHERE!? WHEN!? WHO?!”

“It was one of the Night Sprites… You know, just the ones that the little Birdie uses to send you those darling little letters…”

“Min, where is it!?”

“In the Office.”

“Min, that's where dad is! What if he reads it!? You know he snoops on our desks!”

“Well that's why I hid it! Also Lord Anthious isn't in the office today. Cassuis told Paolo and i that the two of them would be busy doing work in the afterlife all day today. Arawn’s playing with the Spirit Animals, Cassius said he would get

drawings of it, should be absolutely adorable. Just cute enough to really die of.”

“Oohhh… I'm gonna want one of those drawings, make sure he gets one for me… Maybe two, or three. I tend to burn things.”Kasoo nodded thoughtfully, before stilling again suddenly. “Min! They aren't in the office so I can get the letter!”

And with that, the Second Son of Death and his Specter were off to the work space.

“GODS DAMMIT!” A loud yell could be heard through the thick double door of the Death’s workshop. The yell was preceded and quickly followed by the sounds of shelves crashing and long scrolls unfurling across the floor.

“My lord, please stop! You’ll set the scrolls for the Vaschek Army on fire!” A smaller voice could be heard over the sound of flames roaring to life and being smothered to death in an instant.

“Dammit Lais Min! God Dammit all!" The voice became clearer as the door opened, three figures stepping into the large stone room.

“What are we damming Kasō?” Anthious serves the workroom with furrowed brows, a clawed hand lifting to remove his beaked mask.

“Don't mock me Father!!” Kaso shouted back, furious. His orange eyes gleaming like flames as a small pixie was attempting to pat out a fire on his shoulder.

“Goodness, what a mess.” Cassious mutters softly, stepping around Anthious to fully observe the work room that had fallen into chaos, “and I just finished sorting those scrolls…”

“What have you done to our workshop?” Kasō’s father sighs softly as he walks further into the wreck that was his tidy workshop not moments earlier, a tired hand going up to brush through his messy auburn hair as Arawn gently picks their way around the rubble.

“I fell.” Kasō deadpans, the fires on his tanned skin dying down as he runs a hand through his short and messy brown hair.

“And then a shelf fell, and then another shelf fell, then the pan fell, then the scrolls fell, and then I fell after a falling book fell onto me.” Lais Min started, listing all the things that had been falling.

“Fell onto what?” Cassius asks, kissing his teeth. He was bent over one of the many piles of fallen and unsorted scrolls that needed to be re-sorted and put back.

“The shelf.” The youngest son of Death answered tersely. Stalking over to another pile of scrolls to start picking them up.

“How did you fall?” Athanasius tips his head slightly as he observes the mess before him. Following after Cassius and an angry Kaso who were already picking their way through the mess.

“And are you quite alright?” Arawn, asks blankly. Stepping quickly through the mess and over to Lais Mintoo to ensure that the Spector was alright. Books could be very damaging to pixies, and while the little Godling was still not used to the fragility of life, they did understand that much.

“I’m fine.” Lais Min shrugged, flitting over to sit on Kasō’s shoulder. “Lord Cremation fell because he got overly excited.”

“Excited? About what?”Arawn looks around, thumb going into their mouth as they take in the mess. Piles of papers, books, and scrolls were all over the floor. Broken glass and various specimens that had been within the jars now shattered and free.

“He got a letter!”

“Min!” Kasō quickly scolded his specter as the fire sprite joyously shouted the news of the letter received.

“A Letter? From whom?” Athanasius looked over to his youngest son, golden eyes glinting with curiosity.

“It wasn't anything important,” Cremation responded quickly, seemingly stiff at his father’s curiosity.

“It must have been something, to cause so much falling in the study.” Cassius, as sardonic as always, tsked again holding up a damp scroll by its corner. “This was important you know…”

“Does it matter who it was from!?” Kaso’s hair went up in flames, again.

“Perhaps, perhaps not.” Anthious shrugged, “I would, however, like an explanation as to why a letter of all things caused you to cause all this.”

“At least he didn't burn down the study again.” Cassius groused from his spot on the floor.

“God what happened?” Pythios now stood at the Workroom's entrance, slightly flushed from his day on the journey back to his father’s realm.

“Kaso fell because of a letter.” Arawn giggled, jumping over a pile of debris to get to their cushions.

Pythios was gingerly picking his way through the fallen mess to his younger brother’s side. “Was it another marriage proposal? You’re about the age where you’ll be getting them. The first ones of mine were sinful, Latis herself could barely stand to look at it.”

“It is concerning when a wayward god manages to make the being of Lust and Desires sick to their stomach with their… wants….” Cassius muttered, a shudder of disgust running through him. How beings of such high standing could be worse than the humans was beyond his understanding, and he had been a human once!

“It wasn't any of that!” Kaso had now gone bright red, his flames fully extinguished as he blushed.

A soft snort of laughter could be heard from Cassius from behind Anthious. “It must have been something exciting for you to have been so caught up in it.”

“Let us hurry and get to it then. The sooner we find it, the sooner we can deal with the… contents and whomever sent such a thing again.” Cassius sighed, he had been the one to intercept all of the ‘love’ letters that Pythios had ever (and is still) received. He was not fond of the job and was not looking forward to adding another pile of letters to it.

“It's not like that! And none of you are reading my letters!”

Pythios’ day was the same as it had been for nearly a millennium. And before that it had been the same for nearly fourteen millennia. And before that it had been the same for a little more than nine hundred thousand millennia.

Pythios, the eldest born child of Death, his father’s silver child, the soft spoken deity, the Gentle Death, the God of Decay, had seen very little change in his life. And he liked it that way.

Every ‘day’ that passed went much the same.

He would wake, long silver tresses tied neatly into a braid to prevent tangling, and Paolo would come in perfectly on time as usual. He would open the curtains, set Pythios’ meal before him on the bed, and go about preparing for the day.

Brushes would be set out on the vanity, outfits brought forth for approval or vetoing as Pythios ate his breakfast. Jewelry would be selected, and Pythios would decide what she wanted to wear with her hair for the day.

The next hour or so was spent at the vanity. After Pythios dressed, he would sit there and Paola would brush and style his hair, help put her jewelry on, and add any little finishing touches, all while the two went over the day's schedule.

After getting ready, it was time for work. The work was varied depending on what was happening when.

Mortal War just started? Time to go through the different kingdoms’ paperwork and start predicting death tallies and sending reapers to reinforce the area.

Epidemic sweeping the land? Well then he’ll need to figure out which deity caused it and why, see if the proper report was filed for, send reporters to reinforce the area, and if needed go and speak to whatever deity did this without proper permissions.

Natural disasters? Run a death toll, make reports, figure what deity did it (usually one of Tiavon's grandchildren and they tended to be good about filing before things), send prepared reinforcements to the area, and prepare for the sudden influx of souls.

Nothing too much to note? Souls work it is. Reports to be filed, hearings to be had, checking in on the soul delivery process, checking on reaper reports and numbers, and fine tuning the afterlife.

Religious holiday? Go down to the mortal world and attend. Oversee the offerings, give out blessings, ensure the temples are running as they should.

Of course there were things Pythios needed to do everyday. Such as overseeing any burials done in his name, and escorting those who were especially loyal to him to the afterlife.

He was known to the Mortals as the Gentle Death, the Death of Decay. In standard practice, women, children, and the elderly were buried in his name. Put into the earth so that they may return their bodies to it while their soul goes elsewhere. Buried in hanging graves over the cliffsides. Left to the open sun on platforms for the sky to take them back. His process was a slow but gentle one, it was how he preferred things.

After work, and oftentimes during it, Pythios also oversaw his siblings. Ensuring that Kaso was doing his own God-work was a task in itself. The godling always seemed to be running off into trouble or disappearing when there were tasks all but spilling off of his desk.

So finding him and keeping him on track was yet another one of Pythios’ duties. Though the two also visited each other. Popping into the others' rooms, stealing time to chat about nothing for a few moments, and invading each other's office space.

She also made plenty of time to check in on Arawn. The little one was still far too young to have their own God-work yet, so most of their time was spent on lessons. Pythios would visit them often, to oversee their titles and curriculum.

Arawn loved the visits and had learned over the past century that they could also visit their brothers while the two were working, and so seeing a little puff of brown hair scampering behind the desks to hop into one of their apps had become a common occurrence.

Today was one of the few days that Pythios had nothing to do. A rare occasion enough as the Deaths were always busy. It seemed that Anthious, sensing his children's anxiety, pulled some strings to give them a few days off in order to relax.

Or in Pythios’ case, to worry and fret over things.

“Young master?” The mist spectator was never far, he had never been more than a call away since they two had met and the mist creature entered the silver one’s service.

“I don't know what to do…” Pyth brought his fingers up to his mouth, a habit he had been nearly rid of until today, it seemed.

“Perhaps… perhaps it would be lovely to go and meet some of the other godlings,” Paolo said slowly, gently pulling out the brushes and pins for today's preparations.

“What do you mean?” Pythiois was sitting on his bed, curled into herself as she stared wide-eyed at the misty specter.

“Well.. simply with the impending battle, perhaps it would be useful to strengthen your father’s numbers by forming alliances of your own with those of your age.”

A long beat of silence grew between the two. Not that such a thing was uncommon, both tended to gravitate towards the quiet, but this silence was charged with an anxious energy so Paolo was watching his master carefully.

“Do… Do you think that would work?”

A soft sigh of relief followed by a quick nod, “well… Yes of course! Your father will have some trouble forming good alliances with the younger godlings, and the life gods have so many children so they have such easy access to your generation of deities.”

“Oh… Well. That makes sense.” Pyth sat up, hand coming down to fiddle with the blankets by his side. “Yes. Let's go and try to form some alliances today!”

Pythios would admit to many faults should those who were close to him even mention the idea of one.

He was too quiet, too shy, didn't talk enough, moved awkwardly, she couldn't hold a conversation, even if she did you could hardly ever hear her due to how quiet she was, she sounded odd whenever she spoke, and she had terrible mannerisms for socializing.

The one thing Pythios would never admit to anybody, aside from their father and on the rare occasion Paolo, was being afraid because of something like this.

Pythios had not interacted with Godling his own age, outside of business purposes, since his twentieth millenia. It that was because he was afraid.

He had been just a shy child when he was small. Always clinging to his father’s legs and hiding in the folds of his feather cloak. But he had friends.

He had played little games with some of the other godlings. He would play with dolls with some of the plant goddesses. He would play princess in distress with some of the war godlings. She would play dress up with the others. She would have tea parties. He had friends, or he thought he had friends.

During his meeting with Tiavon on the night of his fifteenth millennium that had changed. Pyth did not like to think of that night, the booming voice often haunting her on nights she couldn't stop thinking.

She had tried, of course she had, for another five millenia. But everything was ruined, none of it was ever the same.

Pythios was never the same.

Gone was the shy but friendly child, in his place was the quiet gentle death. The silver son of the Anthious.

So when he had entered the ‘hanging gardens’, a spot where many godlings spent their downtime away from their parents and work, he felt very out of place.

The hanging gardens were on a series of islands connected by bridges of ivy and flowering trees. The islands were flying high in the skies, above the clouds but occasionally dipping low enough that the misty cool of the puffy things would roll through the place. There were hundreds of thousands of different kinds of plants, ones that had never been seen by half of the plains. There were lounges, and fountains, and fire pits, and beautifully piles of cushions to sit and chat on.

Pythios had not been here for ages.

So when he, completely alone as servants were not allowed in the space, stepped through the portal doorway and onto the top of the grey and gold marble steps he drew some attention.

He stood for a moment, awkward and trying to figure out exactly what he was doing here again (these things were so much harder on his own… why didn't he bring Kaso?), hands gently twisting into the falls of the pale blue fabric of his chiton before he saw a familiar face.

Two faces actaully.

The first was one of the War Gods. Technically he was a golem made deity, one that was carved from obsidian with ebony features. He had completed many challenges and become a god himself when Pythios was around seven millennia.

The two hadn't been close, but whenever Pyth joined the more rowdy children to ‘save the damsel’ (he was always the damsels because ‘princesses dressed pretty’) this obsidian godling had always insisted on being the one to save him.

The second was one of the Goddesses of Plants, specifically a goddess of early blooms. The two had been practically inseparable when they were children.

Playing with dolls, dressing up, and having tea parties.

They had been close friends, but that had been ruined when all Pythios could hear were the same words repeated over and over again in his head.

Pyth took a breath in, smoothed the silk of his pale blue chiton, and fixed the silver and sapphire chinas that crowned his head and started down the steps.

He was down the steps and halfway to Lenten when a hand brushed his arm.

“Pythuis?”

The silver one spun around, seeing Opsianos the golem made god smiling and lightly holding his arm.

“It is you! You look so different, much taller!”

“Opisanos… It's nice to see you again. How have you been?”

’Ah busy, you know how things are. You get old enough to not accidentally kill a whole culture and suddenly you're swamped! I'm sure you have it worse though, death is always busy.”

“Ah… yes. I've been… busy, certainly. I think this is the first day I haven't had any work to do in a few months.”

“Really!?” Obsianos’ ebony dark eyes went wide, mouth falling open slightly in shock. “I didn't think it was that busy!”

“Well there's always something to be fixed or collected or filed. Especially with all the new things going on.”

“New things?”

“There have been a lot of odd plagues recently, causing quite the influx.”

Obsianos nodded, a smile slowly growing. “So if you have today off and you are here that must mean you wish to consort with us! This is wonderful! The rest of the wars and I have been talking about you!”

“Talking about me…?”

“Yes!” Obsianos, either ignoring or ignorant of Pythios’ concerned tone, gently grabbed his hand and pulled him along to the group he had been with prior. “Everyone! Pythios has managed to get some free time for the first time in ages!”

Suddenly Pyth was in the midst of many Godlings, some he knew and some he did not. Most were children of the war goddess, grandchildren to Tiavon. There were a few who were familiar on a political and business basis, Godlings of strife, pain, sickness, grief, burials, hope, courage, energy.

“I'm surprised. The death toll is nearly six times our whole family’s combined, and on top of that you have to keep Kaso in control and you watch after Arawn. Do you even sleep anymore?” The eldest of the group, the Goddess of War Trials, looked surprised but… happy to see her. A tentative smile on her face.

“Hardly, but I think the need has been outgrown at this point.” Pyth smiled, hand going back to tangling in the loose fabric of his chiton.

The interaction seemed to go smoothly, the group moving from standing around one of the many fountains to sitting on a collection of lounges and chairs. At some point Opsianos and Pythuis were seated together as the group dispersed.

Most of them were summoned away by their duties or parents, some seeing other friends they wished to talk to.

“It is good to see you again, Pyth. I hope the next time you have some free time isn't another Megaannum.”

Pythuis flushed, an obvious thing due to how pale his near porcelain skin was, but nodded stiffly. “It was certainly nice to see everyone again.”

It was nice. Laughing, story telling, catching up, it felt wonderful. It made him wonder why he left it all behind… why he gave it all up so easily.

“I would very much like to see you again…” Obsianos shifted closer to him, his large onyx black hand falling across Pyth’s own.

“It would be nice…” Pythios was flushing again, “To see everyone, I mean.”

Obsianos smiles brightly, takes a breath and is about to say something when a familiar voice perks up from behind them.

“Pythuis? Is that you?”

“Lenten!” Pyth springs up from his seat, whirling around to see the Goddess of early blooms standing just behind them.

“Is it you!” the brunette laughs, arms wrapping around him in a quick hug, “I could have sworn I heard someone say your name, and I thought I caught a glimpse of you. You're here!”

The two nearly immediately stepped off to the side, towards one of the flowering bridges. A simple soft wave goodbye was the only parting from the last war god as he too went off back to work.

“It's been ages! How have you been?” The girl gushed, linking their arms as they walked.

“Busy, but I finally got a day off.”

“Is this your first one since you started working? Not even the Lifes are so busy!” to deep purple satin swished against her skin, it made her look washed out and Pythuis immediately felt bad for thinking it. Maybe the two of them could have a fashion talk later, he was brilliant with clothes after all.

“Well you know what everyone says, the Deaths are always busy with something.” Pyth waved it off as the two came to a stop at a more secluded fountain area.

“We have so much to catch up on!”

“We do!” Pyth could feel his cheeks starting to hurt from smiling, it was a nice feeling.

The two talked for what seemed like hours, but hardly a moment had gone by before the Goddess cocked her head some. She went silent, her voice fading off as she listened.

“Oh Gods! I'm sorry Pythuis, I have to go, my mother is calling me. Something about some garden again! You would think she would know how to tend to them herself at this point!”

“It's fine! I should probably be getting back anyway. I have to check in on Arawn, I usually pop in more often.”

“You’ll have to tell me all about your two siblings another time! And I can give you all the good gossip on mine!”

The two laughed, quickly crossing the bridge and coming to the main area of the hanging gardens again.

“It's nice to see you again Lenten, I've missed the time we used to spend together."

“Oh! Everyone just calls me Rose now, it's been so long I guess I never told you…

I've missed being with you as well! We should definitely schedule a tea party sometime! I have found the most wonderful blend of spice teas, you will love them!

Anthious stood alone on the cliffs that surrounded his palace. This plane was separate from the one the Gods of Life ruled, it was hidden deep in the resting place of the old ones, the birthplace of Anthious, the plane he had willed into creation when he formed. The winding walkways were dotted with gazebos and covered overhangs that teetered on too close to the steep drop-offs that were shrouded in thick and heavy fog. The air around him muffled any noise, stole any view, it hid all from anyone, except from him.

This place was as much his own as his own body was, the fog like the air in his lungs, the heavy stone like his bones. So he knew exactly when Tiavon stepped out of the temple that was on the outskirts of his domain, when the giant ancient one made its way over through the chasms, the massive cliff faces barely coming up to their thighs. He heard the heavy sigh and the creak of old bones as the Divine one of time settled down before him.

“Tiavon.”

“Little Death, how are you? It has been a long time since we had a chance to properly speak.”

“I am well, as are the children. You saw Arawn earlier, growing like a weed.”

“Yes, so big now. They are almost to their first Millennium?”

“Nearly, we have another century or so.”

“So they’ll be shooting even faster soon. I remember that time with my children, you do as well. You were grown when they were at that age.”

“Yes, They are still much the same even all these ages later.”

The ancient one let out a barking laugh, loud and reedy. “Yes I have seen, some better than others.” large glowing eyes shone through the fog down at Anthious, regarding the smaller form. “What about the other, you rmiddle one?”

“Eager to see you. He has many questions about his future.”

“Yes… I have seen it…”

“Good or bad?”

“That is not for you to know.”

“I ask you as his father and as your friend Tiavon.”

“Hmm…” The rumbling purr of Tiavon’s heartbeat slows as they rest their head on the cliffs closer to Anthious, “You are one of very few who can ask me as a friend. So I shall tell you some.”

Golden eyes stare into vast green ones, the threads of life gazing into the chains of time.

“It is good. Many rough years ahead, but there shall be a creature - a special creature- who will make them easier.”

“That was… less cryptic than I thought it would be. Certainly less terrifying than Pythios’.”

The silence enveloped the two, time and death stilling into one soundless existence.

“You have more questions?”

“About my children? Always.” Tiavon chuckles, nodding knowingly as they did, “But that is not what I have come to speak to you about, Tiavon.”

“I know. This is about imbalance.”

“Yes.”

“I will tell you this, only because you are the one in charge of keeping this, but things are not going to go well.”

“I assumed as much. I seek your counsel on a solution. One that doesn't harm my children.”

“There will be no way around it.” The ancient one growls, “War has come knocking on your doorstep, Anthious, it is time to answer it.”

“Is it the only way?”

“Without sacrificing one of them? Yes. It is the only way.”

“So war is not the only way. I just don't like the other options.”

The great one barks in laughter again, wheezing hard enough to clear the fog from around the two. “HA! I know you, Anthious, I have known you since before you were formed!”

Golden eyes stare up at the rising figure, as Tiavon moves to sit on their haunches. “For as long as you have lived and for as long as you shall exist there have been and shall be two constituent things about you. Your power and your protection of your children. The other option is not an option, for it shall not come to pass no matter what anyone advises you.”

“What do you suggest then?”

“War is coming, you need to win. Five things must happen to ensure that.”

The conversation with Tiavon weighed heavily on Anthious as he strode from the distant cliff sides back to his palace where his children were sleeping peacefully. How much longer would they be able to do that?

War changed everything. The ability to breathe, eat, sleep, dream, to want anything other than surviving… It is a cruel thing and his children were so young.

Perhaps the only assurance he could take from his conversation with the ancient Tiavon was that the old one seemed certain of his victory and his children’s survival.

It would be hard. There would be grief and sorrow and suffering. There would be close calls. But if he did as he was too, then all three of his darlings would make it out the other side.

Anthious paused as he entered the mawing gates of his palace, glaring at the horizon over his shoulder.

Perhaps the other thing was that Kaso’s 15th millennium reading would be far better than his elder siblings.

“My Lord Death.” Cassious bowed from his place by the door, “you are back sooner than expected. I take it that things have gone better than we hoped?”

“Not necessarily Cassius…” Anthious started moving again, striding into his palace as the spectator fell into step by his side.

“Should I be concerned about my lord?”

“Cassious, I need to know where your loyalties lie.”

“Where they always have. With you, and only with you, My Lord Death. I have served you since I was but a child and I continued to serve you after my mortal passing and I shall always continue to serve you. My loyalties have never and will never lie elsewhere.”

“And of my children?”

“I will protect them with my life, death, and whatever lies beyond it.”

“Tiavon told me many things, Cassius. They will be in danger and there is little I can do about that… I need to know that they are safe.”

“Paolo and Min are loyal as well, my lord. The Most spectator sees your son as a child of his kind and the Sprite would rather serve the Fae than let any form of harm come to the boy.”

“Arawn is left unprotected then.”

“I will protect her.”

“I will need you by my side… We shall have to move to find her spectator along more quickly.”

“I shall hasten the preparations and quicken along the search for a suitable match.”

“Good… Wake the children, we shall have breakfast in the west gazebo.”

The light shone as if the sun had risen when Anthious willed it to. His children had rested for what the mortals would call days and he had had enough time to mull what he and Tiavon had spoken of.

“Good morning, Father. The draping fabric of Pythios' robes whispered along the floors as he quietly slipped into the gazebo.

“Good morning my silver one. How was your rest?”

“Fine.” It was barely above a whisper as the boy pressed a kiss into his father’s temple before sitting down at the small table laid out before him.

“Paolo said it was restless. Did you not sleep?”

“I slept. It was just fitful."

“Still worried about this?”

“Yes.” pale lips frown in a pout as silver hues stare off into the misty mountains beside them, “It's just a lot to worry about… How was your conversation with Tiavon?”

Fruitful.” Anthious’ gaze burned into the boy before him, “All will be well.”

“Will it?”

“Yes. Some steps must be made, precautions to be taken. But all will be well.”

“What kind of steps? What precautions? I want to help them.”

“All in time my darling son.”

Silver hair swishes as Pythios falls back into his seat, pouting and glaring off into the fog.

“You’re too old to pout, sit up straight and set a good example for your siblings.”

Anthious sighs as he is ignored, turning instead to his other two children who enter the gazebo.

“Good morning father.” Kaso’s messy hair was worse than ever after his sleep

“Messy… You should've cleaned up.”

“It's just breakfast, it's not like we’re having visitors.”

Death scoffs, leaning over to greet Arawn as they sleepily stumbled over to him, “and good morning to you my little one.”

Their silver hair was all over the place, and tanned hands were still rubbing sleep out of golden eyes as they flopped against him, mumbling back.

“Still sleepy?”

They nod softly against his leg, whining as he picks them up and brings them into his lap.

“You should be growing out of this need for sleep soon. You brothers did around this age.”

“We grew up faster than Arawn did.” Porcelain hands start combing through Arawn’s messy locks, “They’re already reaching their first millennia and they still look like a child.”

“Don't rush them! I love Arawn being small.” Kaso was muffled by the food he had started shoving in his mouth.

“It's a bit worrying isn't it? They should be growing a bit faster at least.” Pythios skillfully untangled and straightened out Arawn’s unruly hair “I love them being this small but it can't be healthy…”

“They’re fine. Kaso grew slower than you did and they are growing slower than him.” Anthious cups Arawn’s face, smooshing their cheeks and rubbing their noses together gently, “They’ll grow at their own pace.”

“Enough about Arawn! I want to know what Tiavni said!” Kaso slams his cup onto the table after emptying it in a gulp, “What did they say about me?”

“Don't slam your dishes.”

“Dad!”

“You’ll have to wait until your fifteenth, that's how these things go.”

The fiery son of death groans, slumping into the table, “I don't want to wait!”

“Have some patience.”

“But what did Tiavon say?” Pythios finishes off the braid he was working on, silver and amber eyes boring into their father as Arawn yawns and snuggles closer to his warmth.

“All will be well.”

The mist rolls around them, as if moved by the winds, Anthious brings his tea to his lips, golden eyes shut as he drinks.

“That's it?” it's Kaso’s usual bluntness that breaks the moment, “All will be well?”

“That was the gist of it.” His lips quivered in a smile as Kaso groans and Pythios glares, exasperated at him.

“But what specifically?" His eldest insists, “I want to help Baba, let me help!”

Anthious sighs, again, staring at his children before him, considering it.

“War is inevitable.”

“What do you mean it's inevitable?!” Pythios’ panic comes as quickly as the words.

“The balance between the Gods has been unraveling for many eons now. War is on our horizon and it is inevitable.” Anxious father was calm, golden eyes gazing off into the fog as he shifted Arawn closer to him, their baby sibling still snoring away softly in his arms. “It will come and it will pass, and we shall be the victors.”

“Just like that? We’ll just win?” Pythios' voice breaks, he didn't believe it. Of course she didn't. “It's never that simple!”

They were all silent, aside from Arawn’s whines as they shifted around in his lap. Their father was considering something, eyes boring into Pythios’ soul.

“It's not that simple.”

“Of course it isn't!”

“Tiavon’s words are never simple or straight forward, never what they seem to mean.” Golden eyes met silver ones gently, “There were steps to be taken to ensure our victory.”

“Then tell us about them so we may ensure them!” Kaso demanded, slamming his fork down.

“We do not slam cutlery either Kaso. Have some manners.”

The boy huffed, slouching in his chair.

“It is better if you do not know them. The fewer who know the less likely it is that any of this will get out to those who shouldn't know. Asides from that,” Anthious held up a staying hand as Kaso leaned forward to interject again, “asides from that, knowing what will and won't lead to a certain outcome is stressful. Most tend to never stop thinking of it, they worry endlessly, in the end, there is little that can be done to sway anything, and thus the endless worrying and attempts at control and pain about it all are for nothing.”

Pythios seemed to crumple into his chair, a mournful look crossing his face for a second.

A gentle hand reached out to him as Anthious whispered gently to his eldest, “Tiavon’s prophecies are hardly ever what they seem, Pythios… You cannot spend eternity fretting over it, you must live a life worth living.”

“So we can't know anything that will help our cause?!”

Kaso’s chair falls to the ground as he stands up abruptly.

“You will be able to know things when the time is right.” Anthious gestures to the fallen chair, “Pick that up”

“Things will happen as they will. What Needs to be done will become clearer in time or painfully clear in hindsight.” Anthious sighs again, rubbing his temples as he brings his tea up to sip “That's just how prophecies work, especially Tiavons. There is no being as cryptic and confusing as they enjoy being."

“So what do we do?” the delicate cup in Pythios' hand cracked as his grip became too tight, sending chards of glass and tea into his lap, “oh!”

“And you say I can't control myself.”

“Kaso mind yourself. Cassius gets something to clean Pythios up. Palo, get him a new cup, he needs tea.”

“Why'd it break?” Arawn’s golden eyes were wide as the full moon as they stared at Pythios.

“Your brother is just stressing a little right now darling, he's fine.”

“Oh… Are we going to war?”

“At some point, yes. But you mustn't say a word to anyone about it. Do you understand?”

“Yes Baba.” Arawn’s gaze never leaves the mess of the broken cup as the spectators rush around them.

“Are you alright Arawn?” Kaso reaches out and gently taps their cheek, bringing their gaze to him, “Do you need some more sleep? You must be growing if you're sleeping so much.”

“I'm tired.” They nodded softly, reaching out to be picked up by their brother.

“Yeah you're growing!” Kaso huffs dramatically as he swings them to his hip, “You're Heavier already!”

Finally, within the walls of their home, deep within his realm, the group slowed as they followed the head of their party who was stalking down the obsidian and onyx halls.

“What have I told you two?!” Anthious, known as ‘The Death of All’ by the mortals or ‘The Death of All’ by the mortals or ‘Lord Death’ by his divine peers, was far less intimidating to his darling children.

Don't go about dealing with the King.” Pythios’ silver eyes lower in reverence at father’s scolding.

“And yet where do I find you!?” Antinous raged on, hands flipping about as the two sons and father removed deeper into their palace. “In the midst of his courtroom, dealing with him!”

“It isn't our fault!” Kaso argues with him, ember eyes clashing against golden ones, “We were just delivering the death toll reports from the recent mortal skirmish on the West Coast!”

“The transfer of reports is within the sector's duties and capabilities, I didn't give you both Paulo and Min to look at. The two of them are meant to be your errand runners and assistants!” He sighs heavily, a less clawed hand reaching up to remove the heavy beaked mask he so often wore when visiting the mortals, “I am not truly angry at you two. I simply worry. Tiavon summoned me away from the mortal plain when they heard that the two of you were amongst the king's court, and you know they only intervene when danger is afoot.”

“We understand father.” silver eyes met golden ones, a gentle hand reaching out to take the slowly changing claws.

Pythios had always been the most gentle of the family, being known by the Mortals as ‘God of Decay’ and ‘The Gentle Death’. She was quiet, soft spoken, and gentle in all mannerisms. As the Eldest he felt responsible for any and all things that happened to the younger two children.

A heavy sigh left Anthious again, “come along. There are things to be dealt with and talks to be had.”

The three moved quickly and in silence, then one, through the winding hallways that went from full with bustling servants to eerily empty as they neared closer and closer to the center of the palace. This part held the Death’s chambers and their precious workrooms.

Large vaulted ceilings, with pillars carved from Onyx curving upwards to frame domes of black and gray stained glass or large tinted window panes. Their workplace was separated from the palace by a long windowless hallway and two sets of heavy iron doors, and it was split into three parts. The library-study, the forge-space, and the gateway to the afterlives.

The first and main part was the library study area. Floor to ceiling bookshelves and scroll shelves filled the space, packed wall to wall to wall in long winding aisles that led to a looming study. The study room was split into four sections, a semi-circle at the front of the room that served as a sitting and rest area, and three ray-like sections that held Pythios’, Kaso’s, and their father’s desk as well as their workload.

It was here that they finally entered with a bang of the doors and a swoosh of fabric.

“Daddy!” Anthious’ youngest child, Arawn, squealed from her perch on a mound of pillows in the center of the room.

“Hello precious, are you behaving?”

“Like an angel.” A mist figure spoke from behind a silver desk on plush blue carpeting, it looked like a man made of smoke was shoved into a waistcoat, collared shirt, and pants.

“Like a little devil more like!” Flitting over a gold and amber desk on dark wood flooring was a small bundle of fire, a sprite.

“A troublesome delight as always, master Anthious.” The heavily robed figure spoke from behind the massive black obsidian desk from the center ray, the mist man on its right and the sprite on its left.

“Very good Cassius.” The golden eyed god sighs, addressing only his personal specter as he sheds the rest of his heavy god-wear from the mortal plain. Feathers fade into a cloak that slips from his shoulders, claws turn into intricate rings that fall into the spector’s outstretched hands as Death sits at his desk.

“Hello Arawn.” Pythios settles into the pile of cushions at the Settes' feet by his youngest sibling’s side. They were nearly a baby to him, even at a few millennia old now, “How was your trip to the mortal plains?”

“It was so much fun!” the little one clambered onto their brother’s lap, pulling at her silk robes and periwinkle hair. Arawn had their father’s burning gold eyes, hair to match Pythois’ and skin to match Kaso’s. Tanned and sweet as the sun, with hair like the moon and eyes like death, they were the youngest of Death’s children and were the most doted upon by their father and brothers. “I stole a ghost!”

“You stole a ghost…?” Fluffy brown hair jumped as Kaso fell onto the Sette, arm falling over his eyes.

“The little one seems to be proficient in souls, like one of the reapers we employ.” Cassius provides, plucking a serving tray from a visiting servant before closing the iron doors. “Perhaps their divine duty will be something off of that?”

Scarred skin broke into a wide smile as tan hands pluck Arawn from Pythios’ lap, throwing them into the air. “A little reaper all our own!”

“A reaper? Isn't that… just a bit…” Pythios muttered off into silence, eyeing his younger siblings as they squealed and laughed.

“Beneath them? Yes. “ Anthious agreed, “our darling Arawn is meant for much greater things.”

The mist figure reappeared in the room, setting up a small table on the balcony and setting it for afternoon tea. There was no real time in this place of course, but the mist spectator was a creature of propriety and habit and it felt like it was about tea time.

By the time Anthious had finished with whatever quick report he deemed important all three of his children were seated at the little table and tucking into the small feast the mist man had brought out for them.

“Such little darlings you all are.” Anthious preened, feathers from his warmer cloak ruffling at the sight of his children together and happy. “Now that you are safe and eating however, there are matters to discuss.”

“Is this going to be another scolding?” Kaso stops shoveling food into his mouth halfway, eyeing his father warily.

“No. This is a serious matter.” Antinous sat at the table with them, cloak fluffing up, “I mentioned that Tiavon got me from the mortal plain?”

“Yes, because he taught us in danger from the King.” Silver hair bobs gently as Pythios nods.

“There was another reason. They have had a vision…” Golden eyes rake over the three present, only the elder two seeming to understand what that meant as Arawn continued with their happy humming and munching, “The balance is indeed at stake. And the vision of destruction that the King saw was what Tiavon relayed to me as well.”

“So we have to get married!?” fire explodes from the second son as his chair falls onto the floor.

“Death and Life need to combine to restore the natural order of things. Marriage is one way of doing so.” Their father nods solemnly.

“It's the way that benefits that Asshole!”

“Kaso!” Porcelain hands smack the burning boy’s head “not in front of Arawn!”

“Mind you, brother and your manners, Kaso.”

“Hm!” The ember-eyed godling huffs heavily, throwing himself back into his chair, which the small fire sprite righted just in time, “I'm not doing anything that benefits that fake king!”

“And you will not be. Marrying his children puts you beneath his rule, even with the deal between him and me in place.”Pale hands ran over his face, “None of you will be married off.”

“What are the other options?” Pythios softly pushed, “We can't let things fall into that state.”

“A coup, retaking the throne, murder, war. The usual things.” Another heavy sigh, shaking the feathers of his cloak, “Tiavon suggested that marriage will have the best result, but I won't let any of you fall under his control.”

“If you chose to take your throne back, we would support you father!” Kaso burns brightly, “We would form armies and fight alongside you!”

“The gods of war, health, illness, and the night and day would rally with you. They grow sicker by the day.” Pythios agreed in a whisper, gently running figures through Arawn’s hair as they sat on his lap.

“Neither of you know anything about war.” Anthious growls “and none of you will know anything of wars between the divine as long as I can keep it so.”

“I would do it, if it truly were the only way…” Pythios murmured, reaching out to his father.

“No my darling child, you will do no such thing. To be under their thumb would be…” Anthious trialed off, golden eyes going hazy as he seemed to look through his eldest rather than at him, “No… If it came to them controlling you or war, I would wage war.”

“But I am sure it is something that will be avoided. This is not the first time these pretenders parading as divines have tried something like this and it will not be the last.” Cassius appeared suddenly and out of seemingly nowhere, as he usually did, right next to Death’s shoulder, offering more tea. “They have been outwitted before and they will be again.”

“Of course they will be! It's not like it's hard either! Those idiots have double the lifespan of mortals but half the minds of them!” the spunky fire sprite cackled from Kaso’s shoulder, kicking their feet as they laughed wildly. “We could even have some fun with it!”

“Nothing is amusing about the threat of war, Lais Min…” Pythios sighed, eyes crinkling in concern.

“There will not be war. I will avoid you three having to witness that at nearly any cost.”

“But if there was war, I would fight beside you!” Kaso declared again, throwing his hand up in a cheer as he stuffed his face with yet another biscuit.

“War is nothing to look so excited about, especially not war between the God Kind…” Anthious warned.

“War is war. Humans to humans or Gods to Gods, what's the difference besides the level of power and length of time?”

“WAR!” Arawn screeches gleefully, “Death of the divine and souls of the best kind to steal!”

“There will not be a war!” Arawn’s golden eyes went wide at their father’s shouting.

“Bubba…” the little godling was scooped back into the eldest lap, soothing hands brushing through their hair.

“They're just excited about souls. They only learned what war was a couple of thousands years ago.” Kaso placates him, passing a cookie to his baby sibling.

Anthious stared down his three children, rage quickly subsiding, “come here Arawn.” Obsidian Claws gently reaching over to pluck the tiny thing from Pythios' clasp. “I am not angry at you child. Simply at the world which tries to take you from me.”

He shifts them into a comfortable spot on his lap, the child clinging to him quietly. “Something will have to happen, balance must be maintained. As Gods of death it is our responsibility to maintain it.”

“We know our father.” Tan arms cross in front of Kaso’s chest as he leans back into his chair, “But what will happen?”

“Who knows…” Anthious shrugged, hands waving off into the air, “Tiavon probably, but they’ll never tell.”

“Do you think we’ll have to do something drastic?” Pythios worries about pale lips between his teeth, fingers pitching the hem of the table cloth, “What if they try to take one of us by force? I can only protect myself so much, and Kaso and Arawn aren't old enough to have-”

“You don't need to worry about that.” Anthious' words were sharp but his hand was gentle as he reached out to his eldest child, “I’ll ensure that there’ll be no need to worry about that.”

“We’ll bring more specters in, the reapers, the souls of warriors if we need to,” Cassius mutters from behind them.

“If worse comes to worst there are many Deities on our side in this, they would come to your aid.” Paolo soothes, pressing a new cup of tea into the gosling's hand, “All will be handled.”

“And I am more than capable of defending myself! They wouldn't be able to drag me anywhere!” Flames burst forth from kaso again, as Leis Min fraternally begins to pat them out “And I wouldn't let anything happen to them!” the small voice of the sprite squeaked out.

“There is no reason to worry about such things.” Anthious drew the room back to him, “No one is stupid enough to touch my children. Even the divine would die before me if they dared to.”

“But you're not here all the time! I'm not here all the time! What if Arawn is left alone? They may be eyeing Kaso and I now, but what if they go after them!?”

“WAR!” Arawn screeches again

“Then there would be a war. Even the king knows that.”Anthious smiles, shifting his youngest in his lap.

“But-”

“I know you worry, pythius, you’ve always been my worrier…” Anthious gently cups the boy's face, “But there is no reason to be concerned about it. This palace is built to protect you all, even if I am gone my power runs deep into the foundations here. If something were to happen to this building and planes I've created would rise to predict the three of you.”

“Your father is nothing if not overly prepared for my long lord's death.” Cassius’ beak bounces as he nods quickly, “He has panned for any forms of danger against you since you were formed.”

“Still i-”

“Perhaps that is enough of this conversation for now. It is late, the children need their best. All will be better in the morning, I'm sure.” Paolo interrupts him this time, pausing in his patting out of the fires around Kaso, “Some time to refresh will do you good, little master.”

Anthious’ golden eyes flick around, hands waving quickly in the air to distinguish the flames from kaso. “Paolo is right. The three of you need to rest, you're still young and a divine’s aging takes much energy. Off to bed with all three of you, we can continue this discussion when you wake if need be.”

“Hopefully Tiavon will have more insight to share during their visit.”

“Perhaps Cassius, but who knows what they’ll share.” Anthious’ golden eyes roll, the ancient deity of time and all knowing was fickle with what they cared at best.

“Tiavon is coming!?” Kaso nearly falls from his chair, “I want to see them!”

“Didn't I already tell you to go to bed?”

“But it's Tiavon! Pythios got to see them, I want to see them!”

“They aren't that much to see, Kaso, they won't be in their true form around us, we’re still too young to handle that much divine energy.”

“They told you about your future when you hit your fifteenth Millenia, I'm approaching mine and I have questions!”

“You’ll get your prophecy when you get your 15th millennium, not before.” Cassious scolds lightly, a thack sounding from the hit of a scroll on the burning one’s head. “Your father has told you to be off to bed, so let us get you all off to bed!”

“There needs to be an order!”

“Not this way!”

“You can't avoid this Kalathe!”

“Death has always been beyond us! Why should we continue to allow it?!”

“Death needs to be beyond us!”

“Why would you bring this up now!?”

The court of the divine was in chaos, trying to be above all of it was a frantic figure in decadent furs and fine robes, a skewed golden crown on his head. The King of the Gods, who was desperately trying to calm the room. In the eye of the storm stood two younger figures, the two eldest children of Death. These were Pythios, the eldest son known as ‘The Gentle Death’ by the mortals, and Kaso the second son, known as ‘The Honorable Death’. The two were quiet, watching the chaos around them unfold, the Gods of war and health and illness speaking against the King’s proclamation to them, the ones of the skies and lands and seasons sounding all for it.

In the midst of the chaos, the two were calm, watching with silver and amber eyes as all else seemed to topple into shouts and rages at the others. The Elder sighed; tall, slim, and pale like his father, almost doll-like in her stature, something that his long silver-blue hair that fell in curls to the floor only reinforced. “Such noise…”

“Hm.” The younger was shorter, stockier, with a build of a soldier from the mortal plains with deeply scarred and tanned skin. The only resemblance to their father in him was his fluffy brown hair, which he kept cropped at the sides and back, and his blazing glare that seemed to burn the room alive. “I can't believe that all of this Assho-”

“Kaso!” a porcelain hand lightly smacked spiky brown hair in disbelief.

“What? It's what he is!”

“Father raised you better than to use such simple language. Besides that, not here.” Pythios' silver eyes raked the courtroom, causing anyone who gaze he caught to turn away quickly as the arguing continued. “Too many people around us say such things.”

“Hm.” the shorter grunts again, blazing eyes ticking over all who seemed to speak against their father, “I still can't believe the gall of it all. Father goes away on business for barely a day and then this one tries to pull this-”

“ENOUGH!” Fine robes and decadent furs seem as frazzled and disheveled as their wearer as the room draws its attention back to the King of the Gods, standing tall on his throne now, “I am the King and I demand silence!”

The gathering of divine creatures and Gods lowers from angry shouts and arguments to disgruntled grumps and a few angry huffs, eyes glaring around at all others, groups forming as the children of greater divine ones return to their family’s side.

“I have decreed that balance must be maintained! It is our job as the divine to maintain it and my job as your king to decide how it shall be done!”

Murmurs of dissent arise again, mutters of;

“But he's not truly king, is he?”

“Stole the throne more like.”

“Values his image over his duties.”

The eldest of the War Gods stared down her nose at the king, before leaning over to murmur closer to the Sons of Death, “Do not let him control you, your father is better than him.”

She places a massive hand on Kaso’s shoulder, keeping him from any action just yet. She and their father had been formed around similar times, and while they were not siblings, she had seen his three children formed and had had a hand in their rearing from time to time. She; her children, many of her siblings and their children, saw the three little Deaths as one of their own.

“Thank you Auntie…” Pythios murmured, casting a weary gaze around the room.

Two clear sides had formed. They and their father’s supporters gathered to one half of the room, the king’s supporters on the other gathered around the base of the dais that held his throne.

“Tiavon Has seen our dissent! The plains of the divine collapsing into themselves, Gods and Godborns dying out! I have foreseen the solution!”

“If Tiavon has seen this then why has there been no talk of it!?”

“Why only bring it up now!”

“This requires all of us present, why wait until it is just Death’s children here?”

“If there is such an imbalance then Lord Death needs to know of it!”

“Silence! Silence I command all of you again to Silence!” The king screeches, crown nearly toppling off his head as he nearly falls forward from his throne. His son sprung up to support him back to his seat. “I have foreseen the solution! Death and Life must combine to create balance! Death has for far too long isolated himself from our court! As the God of Life I offer my children to him for the balance to be restored!”

The children of the King suddenly look very muted. The eldest, besides his father’s throne, looked taken aback, and the Queen distraught, unshed tears welling up more and more into her eyes.

“It doesn't appear they knew of this.” Scarred skin pulls into a tight grimace as Kaso observes them. Patience was not a strong suit of his, and this was taking far too long for his liking.

“The children didn't seem to know at least.” Pale hands picked apart carefully formed curls that had fallen over his shoulder and down his front, “But the Queen did.”

“Hm…”

“I have declared this solution to you, a marriage! And it is not for you to reject!”

“It is for my blood and I to reject it!” Kaso growled out, stepping forth to distinguish himself from the crowd, as if the flames now emanating from him did not do that enough. “My father is away on business and now suddenly the world is in danger? It's a load of shi-”

“You don't have a choice in the matter boy! The three children of death WILL marry three of my children to restore balance to the world! This is an order from your King!”

“Perhaps.” The heavy bronze doors of the courtroom swung open as if they weighed nothing, black smoke billowing out from them, “You have forgotten.” a tall figure bound in feathers and billowing fabrics spoke from the threshold “What exactly my stepping down entailed'' large raven and crow like beasts roosted on the archways and windowsills, a massive one with feathers like a cloak shrouding it was perched on the speaker’s shoulder, “Our deal was simple, little king.” Golden eyes glared from above an obsidian carved beak, pinning the frantic Life God to his seat.

“Lord Death!” The king scrambled again, hauled part way back onto his seat by one of his sons, “you have finally come to speak-”

“Have you forgotten our deal?”

“No, but-”

“But Nothing!” The mists swirled and cloyed in our father’s anger, “My children and I are out of your reach!” A long clawed hand reaches out and beckons the two of them from the deepening fogs, “Do not overstep again.”

Pythios and Kaso quickly rush past their father, greaves clanking and silks swirling through the mist as they join three obscured figures behind him.

“I will not be so… understanding again.” The gravel of his voice rose in mock, “Leave this matter, I will speak to you and Taivon directly about it when the time comes.”

Without a word from the gathered court, we three figures in the mist disappear with our entourage as the smoke clears from the room. Leaving trembling guards to heave the massive doors shut again.

The trio made their way through the halls of the King’s Castle in silence, stepping between one realm and the next with ease. Pythios kept up with his father’s angry strides with ease, while Kaso took three steps for every one of his father’s furious ones.

As they excited from one realm into their own, the two could feel his anger more palatably. Their father’s realm was a part of him, as he was a part of it, what he felt it emanated.

And he was angry.

Kaso’s fists tightened when they passed a banner depicting the God Plains and all of its inhabitants, anger pulsing through him though he could not tell if it was his own or his father’s.

The banner was a hundred feet long and more than fifty feet tall and was woven by Tiavon’s Wife when Anthious had first created this place when Pythios had started forming. It displayed the results of the first war on the Gold Plains.

There were three distinct groups in the tapestry. On the leftmost side were the white and gold figures of the Life Gods and the pastel array of nature and elemental gods that had been loyal to them.

In the middle was Tiavon and his family. His Wife Iaikhya, and their many children who are known as the Titans. Each of their 13 children represented a different element of the mortal world that Tiavon and Iaikhya had helped shape. Their children's children would take on more specific aspects of their parents' being. Tiavon and Iaikhya are the God Time and prophecy and the Goddess of Marriages and Alliances, their children the Gods and Goddesses of mortal elements. They are typically a neutral party, though many of their children are like family to our own.

On the far right side of the tapestry there is a lone figure atop the throne of burnt trees, with three balls of silver, amber, and golden light floating around his head. Ravens, crows, and other animals who are known to follow our Father’s path surround him. This is the side of the Deaths.

The First (and only) God War had been a centuries-long and bloody affair. It had started when the third Life Goddess decided that our father’s throne should have been hers. Our Father, The God of Death, had been King of the Gods since there had been Gods to be king of. The war had ended suddenly when he cut a deal with the 13th Life God, agreeing to hand over the throne in exchange for himself and any of his lineage and servitude being free from their control.

The Life Gods took the deal, and the Deaths have been separate and feared beings since.

Pythios had been formed shortly afterwards, right after Cassious had given himself to our father in eternal servitude.

’The weather has been mild these past few years. Mild and calm. Similar to the Master’s temperament these past few decades.

One could suppose that it comes with being happy with three darling children, but the ways and whims of the gods are certainly beyond a mere spectator's understanding.

Still, after all this time knowing him -especially through such turbulent moons- I am glad to see him like this.

Happy and playing amongst the grass with his youngest’

The tall human-esq creature dressed in thick black robes and a beaked mask stood a distance away from the other two figures who were further out into the field of golden flowers and soft flowing grasses. He was observing them, watching as the two would run around, the taller chasing after the shorter, before they would tumble into the tall grass disappearing for a moment before they sat back up again.

“All goes well then.” The heavily clothed figure mutters, turning his head so that the eye of his goggle, of which there were two on either side of his face, slightly angled towards his ears, to watch his Master and the young Mistress play amongst the flowers and setting golden sun.

“Daddy!” the little one giggles as they run around their father in circles. Long silver hair flowing behind them as it makes its messy escape from their braid.

“Yes my precious?” Athanasius smiles as his golden eyes track his darling child to and fro. His black and gold bird beaked mask had been slid off his face ages ago and long since forgotten somewhere amongst the tall grass, his black feathered cloak pushed behind his arms and shoulders so he could reach out and tickle or cuddle his little one. His pale and callused hands lay amongst the flowers that his child had been giddily bringing him and leaving in a pile around him, his short soft brown hair shuffling slightly as the breeze blew through.

“Daddy lookit!” The child exclaims once more, holding up their tanned hands to show their father what they had found. There cupped amongst their tiny hands was a small golden flower, one of the hundreds of thousands that were in the field around the two of them. They had been proudly finding, picking, and showing them off to their father every time they found one worthy to bring to him.

Athanasius’ gold eyes soften at his child's offering, he reaches out and gently pulls them closer to him, bringing them into his lap as they giggle and wiggle in his arms.

“What have you found my precious?” His voice is soft and sweet, so full of emotion unlike its usual monotone form.

“Lookit!” the little one declares again, holding their little hands up to their father once more as their identical golden eyes sparkle brightly with wonder. “It's a flower!”

“It's beautiful, precious.” he coos as, tucking a loose strand of their hair behind an ear and gazes lovingly down at his child in his lap.

“It's for you!” Their smile grew ever wider as they gave him yet another flower to add to his collection. A collection that he would bring home to preserve and save for an eternity. Any gift from his little one was dear to him, no matter how many times they gave it to him or how common it was.

“For me?” Athanasius feigns surprise as he took the little flower from his child’s hands.

“Yes it's for Daddy!”

“Thank my precious, I love it.” He leans down and kisses his little one on the cheek before nuzzling into her hair.

More giggles came from them as they sprang out of their father’s lap and gave him a happy peck on the cheek before running off again to find yet another flower for their father.

‘They're just so precious, so sweet.’ Athanasius’ mind wanders as he watches his darling little one run through the tall grass, being lit by the golden glow of the setting sun as they run from flower to flower in the field. ‘How did I manage to have such a child?’

Athanasius turns his attention to his pile of flowers that his little darling has been bringing him as they sat in the field. He has been carefully gathering them and putting them into his beaked mask which he was not wearing. They were all gifts from them, so they were dear to him and he wished to keep all of them.

When he looks back up again, surveying the field around him, his little precious was nowhere in sight. Athanasius knew that they wouldn't have gone far and that they had most likely just found another flower to pick in the tall grass, which was why he couldn't see them, but panic swept a bit into his body all the same when he couldn't lay eyes on them.

“Daddy! Look!” their cheerful voice sounds as they saw their figure pop up from the grass, from farther away than he would have liked. “Look what I found!!” they call out, holding a large tawny thing in their hands as they bounce around.

“I'm coming precious!” Athanasius replies, grabbing his mask and quickly standing up, walking through the field of flowers and soft grass to his youngest.

“Isn't it pretty!” They were smiling and giggling even more as they gently shook the little creature they had found.

“It's beautiful and precious.” His gold eyes flick over them from head to toe, worried that they had somehow gotten hurt in the seconds he had looked away.

“What is this Daddy?” their soft voice of curiosity bringing their father’s attention back to the mass of tawny fluff they held.

“That's a rabbit, a rather large one too.” He answers, A gleaming smirk came to his face and he looked over the red stained puff in their hands.

“Master Anthious.” The heavily clad figure was closer to them now, just steps behind the man and his child. The funny little hat just barely perched atop his head nearly pitched off when the beaked creature tilted its head like a curious bird, “I hate to disturb you when you are with your children… However, Tiavon is here.”

“Tiavon?” Golden eyes widen as Anthious whips around, his mask forgotten in the grass and his little one swept up into his arms as the three turn to see the looming figure of a mountainous entity.

“I hate to interrupt you when you’re with your children, Death.” A booming voice spoke softly from the air around them.

“You hardly ever leave your domain, lest of all the God Plains… What is the matter, friend?” Anthious clung to his little darling closer to him, the spectator to his side gently picking up his own black and gold beaked mask and transferring the flowers gathered within it into his own hat to carefully store the precious gifts.

“Many things I am afraid of…. I come bearing news and a warning. But first, your sons. You are needed by them. Quickly before they are torn apart by the King’s Court!”

Im trying to tidy up my 'desk' on this site. i have a bunch of books that i started on here but i never ended up adding anything to them and i dont plan on doing anything with them for a long while. Is there any way to delete these books so they dont show up on my desk anymore?

Ive tried to google it or look for the Prose. user help but there doesn't seem to be anything that i can find.