Written Wonderland

The goddess took a deep breath, still clutching the wooden falcon. The emptiness around her was far too palpable. There wasn't another soul for what must be kilometers from her palace.

It was going to be a long day.

She remembered Raccoon and the way they had fearfully submitted to help the goddess filter the amulet, themselves no worse for wear. What is it they would want from her? Not traditional things, the goddess suspected. And finding them wouldn't necessarily be an easy task.

But, first, there would be guests tonight, and the goddess' palace? There was an enormous, gaping hole in what had been her innermost chamber room. The room behind her throne. She felt like she imagined her palace looked, gaping holes in her sides.

She tried to reach mentally toward the scale Evan had, hopeful that perhaps she could feel something of him. But there was little more than her own imagination, if anything. But, it was enough to know that he was wearing a part of her. Perhaps once he fell asleep...

Walking listlessly back behind her throne, the goddess retrieved the satchel and gingerly emptied it, placing the portals underneath her throne in the secret compartment. She had a plethora of them now, even if she would need to use one for Evan and the other volunteers tonight.

The sight of them all, their glistening red beckoning to her, was comforting, and she stared at them for a long while.

Choosing one Evan and she had inspired from the tree, she held it in her hand and stood. She put the satchel over one arm and deposited the falcon there for the time being. She would keep it on her person for the rest of the day, she decided. She would keep her word.

Rolling the portal around in one hand, the goddess looked around at her palace, the tapestries and cushions, the braziers and the thick, heavy stone brick of its construction.

Was she stone? What was this place to her anymore, empty and disgraced as it was?

She remembered manifesting it decades prior, crafting it from centuries of memory of what the humans thought of as grandeur, preparing it for Rorrim between his visits.

It wasn't her anymore, if it ever fully had been.

The goddess retrieved Samael's amulet and returned to the throne room. Pulling out the portals from their hiding place once more, the goddess walked out of the palace and looked at its facade, all one level but grand and inviting all the same. Its purple fires burned heartily, and the intricate threads and dyed colors of the tapestries were visible even from here.

So much magic. So much effort to make this place.

She hadn't had enough magic to remake it before now. She still wasn't sure she had enough. But, looking down at the shimmering portal in her hands, she was determined to try.

Having placed all but one portal in her satchel, the goddess knelt in the meadow where she had turned into a dragon for Evan. While not as hallowed as the land around the tree, this place was sacred to her, too. So many lifetimes and memories left shadows and shimmers here, and for a moment, she could see them all, flitting across the corners of her vision. Softly, she expanded her awareness to include everything in the clearing and even some degree beyond. The cold and hot pools, the inlaid circle of stones, the palace itself. She watched from her mind's eye as moments of pleasure and horror played out, some quickly, some slowly. Decades passed in the span of minutes, and the goddess honored them all, remaining an observer through so many versions of herself. In a way, it was like watching her own dreams.

But there was a memory in the palace that did demand her attention, pulling her in. She was crying, sobbing in a corner, curled up around the hurt Evan had called up with a single sentence and the king's name. She remembered how sick she felt about what she had commanded Philip to do to Evan. And she was sick now with how many times she had done something similar before then with blatant disregard for the well-being of the souls who called to her. That despairing sickness threatened to swirl around her and overtake her, but she rolled her shoulders back, took a breath, and held the portal she and Evan had harvested from the tree tightly in both hands.

Evan has forgiven me, she thought.

And what of the others, another voice in her mind asked.

Next time you want to punish me, you do the deed yourself, Evan's voice said within her. There was a flurry of distractions in the goddess' mind as she thought of the lightning storm she had been and the dragon Evan had become to talk her down. She could not give into the weight of her mistakes and reactions. She had to make it right and be the goddess she knew she was.

And sometimes, that meant turning a new leaf.

The earth shook underneath her as the goddess imagined the palace before her crumbling. The sound of the cascade of stone and brick and cloth and metal was thunderous and shook the goddess to her core. And as the pieces of the stone palace broke apart into smaller and smaller pieces, they began to disappear back into the fabric of her existence. In a matter of minutes, the palace that had stood for over fifty years gave way entirely until all that was left was the ground it had stood upon.

The goddess opened her eyes to look at what she had destroyed and what she had restored. The marred ground was gray and empty, but it was free.

Dehaljadrun set the portal down in front of her knees and opened her palms at her sides, offering herself. To what, she did not rightly know. Everything, maybe. Whatever forces made her what she was. The tree. The land. Beyond. All of it. She surrendered to it, though she kept herself rooted where she kneeled, confident that she would not wash herself away. She was essential to this place. She was this place. And she felt and cradled at least one of the sparks of life itself.

Nothing in this entire universe was perfect, not even and maybe especially not her. But she could offer herself to whatever needed her, to whatever she, in turn, needed. She could be the flow of the river from the upper realms as it wound down toward the underworld, touching everything in between. And that was sacred. That was beautiful. That was divine.

And even if she had occasionally been the monster the stories talked about, she could be this, too. And that meant something. It meant everything.

Just then, the goddess felt almost as though some small creature, an insect maybe, had landed on her back, and she fought the temptation to look at what it was. But then, a slight chill came over her as though there was a breeze, but she felt no wind. Gods, what in the realms was happening? She tried to return to her meditation, her sensation of being flow, but then a warmth suffused her, spreading from her palms and up into her chest. She felt that warmth build to a river of lightning within her, and then she felt like falling for just a moment before she could see a dream behind her eyes. Evan's dream.

He's fallen asleep, she thought.

She let his dream, like the memories of her palace as they had played out before her eyes, exist outside her, holding it delicately at arm's length, though the warmth of it still coursed through her.

A number of hands lay Evan onto a warm bed next to a fire, each of them caressing him in comforting safety, holding him.

Her memories harmonized with the sensation Evan was giving her and reminded her of Evan's declaration at the tree. I love you. I love you. I love you, his voice said within her mind. Summoning the swirling warmth up from the portal and channeling the lightning and fire within her, the goddess bloomed, and with her, the land. Grasses sprouted from the earth where the stone had kept them from growing, slowly at first but steadily picking up speed. Enormous purple and black flowers as tall as the goddess herself bloomed in the center, erupting out of the ground like flames. And then winding shoots of trees poked out of the ground in five places--to either side of the goddess, diagonally from her near the path to the pools, against the forest toward the vineyard, and just in front of her sacred circle. These tiny shoots started to widen and curl upward, their dark, rivuleted black bark winding their way up, already almost as tall and thick as the trees in the surrounding forest.

But, suddenly, the goddess thought, Do I deserve this? and everything stopped growing. Before she had time to wonder where the thought had come from, she was pulled more potently into Evan's dream.

Evan plunged a sword through the chest of a bound man in a chair.

The goddess' own chest exploded, the pain impossible to ignore. It's not the sword I made with him, she said over and over again in her mind as protection. She was not sure that was logical, but the thought eased the pain nonetheless. It was everything the goddess could do to hold the dream away from everything she had begun to grow and create, but some of the pain seeped into the bark of the trees, hardening them, and the flowers began to wilt. Several petals fell. Lightning sparked in the sky above her.

Holy fucking gods, what have I done, the goddess thought, her chest still aching as she reached for Evan's dream. She had known that giving the scale to him had been, in some ways, risky, but this? Heavy droplets of rain started to fall hot on the goddess' face.

Within the dream, the goddess watched from some distance as a bloody swath opened in the air in front of Evan, in front of the fire, and from it emerged a large horned demon with a long, sharp tail. Glowing purple and red cracks ran along its body. As the goddess looked at it, however, it shifted and almost bent its way out of her vision, a shadow of itself. It was a demon like one of hers but also... something else. Something foreign that the goddess did not like at all.

The shadow screeched, and the sound pierced Dehaljadrun's mind, the sharp non-syllables trying to tear her from the dream. She took a deep breath and silenced the demon but not before Evan had lunged at it with his still-bloodied sword, slicing down the demon's hip before it could leap away, opening its mouth to screech, though no sound came out. The goddess, everywhere and nowhere, felt pulled toward the demon even as it became a shadow again, thinking of how Evan had similarly marked her. But, no, she wasn't a demon. But if she didn't step in, these two might destroy each other. The goddess had no idea the havoc that might wreak on her and her realm while Evan's body held onto her scale and dreamed... this.

Trusting her instincts, the goddess felt into the fabric of the dream and willed a small piece of it to solidify. Soon, black cloth formed out of the moonlight and lightning above the demon, falling onto its shoulders. But the goddess was still not fully in control of the dream, and the demon was not wholly hers. The goddess watched with mounting concern as the cloth formed around the demon and reshaped it. The demon soon looked like a tall human, blond and stoic. Philip.

Gods damn it all, the goddess thought, and lightning erupted overhead in the dream. Evan's eyes were hollow and empty, almost like a demon himself. The goddess cringed as he raised his sword for another blow.

"Evan," Philip said, pleading with tears in his eyes. "Please. Stop this."

((OOC: Had a hard time deciding if this version of Philip is wearing clothes and what he's wearing if so. If you feel inspired, feel free to mention it.))

The dream grew blurry for a moment, and Evan faded into and out of focus. The goddess worried the dream might end. Perhaps the force of both of their wills and subconsciousness acting on the fabric of the dream was too much for it. But the goddess' view of Evan sharpened again, and she breathed a sigh of relief back in her body where she still knelt.

"You're one to talk," Evan snapped, his anger causing embers to fall through the air between Philip and him. Evan slashed his sword through the air at nothing in particular, and the goddess flinched reflexively.

Evan blurred again, and the dream almost tore away into another direction entirely, one filled with guilt and Evan's screams, but Dehaljadrun gently steered the dream back here. There was something here for them. There had to be.

At the same time, Evan threw his sword to one side and shoved Philip in the chest, his eyes sharp but no longer empty.

"Fight me," Evan said roughly. And suddenly, Philip's eyes were the goddess' eyes, a deep, rich red and purple. Philip followed Evan's orders blindly, throwing a punch and then another, giving Evan little time to block or strike offensively. But Philip's blows, when they landed, noticeably avoided sensitive or vulnerable areas, and the wounds Evan had collected from the demon began to close. Still, some of Philip's blows connected, and eventually Evan fell to the ground with Philip standing over him.

But the goddess saw the purple fading from Philip's eyes, and she instinctively thought, Now.

Forming herself into the dream, the goddess pulled the embers from the air and swirled them together until she was there, standing beside the two men. She placed a hand lightly on Philip's chest where he stood, breathing heavily, but she was looking at Evan with sorrow in her eyes.

"I'm here, Evan. I'm here," she said. "Fight me instead." She took up a defensive stance in front of Evan, almost as though protecting Philip.

A thousand thoughts seemed to swirl in Evan's mind at her arrival, all the of them making him feel a little more real, lucid even. Some part of her lamented that. There was something so sacred about the subconscious-fueled dream state, and she had broken it by intervening. He knew she was here now; he recognized her and knew what she was to him, to some small degree at least.

"I don't want to," Evan said quickly, pushing himself to his feet with some frustrated difficulty. His eyes were wide and wet. "I don't know what I want."

She knew in that moment she was not here to give Evan what he wanted. Except, at least, to be with him. Or was that what she wanted? She had wanted him to take the scale, had she not? Was this all just selfishness again?

Not wholly, she thought. She wanted to take some kind of accountability. Without spiraling, this time.

Evan spread his palms to either side of himself, looking very much like he wanted to say something as his eyes raked over her face, but he stayed silent.

"Philip didn't hurt you," the goddess said, "I did." She wanted to make it clear why she had wanted to take the blows. But, she lowered her arms anyway, almost disappointed to have taken the fight out of him.

She felt a tug back toward her body, her realm, the palace she had been rebuilding. That was what she wanted. But she had to stop this, whatever it had been. Remembering the sword through the chest and the pain she had felt, she closed her eyes tightly for a moment.

When she opened them, she saw Philip moving out of the corner of her eye and eyed him warily. This combined figment of their shared subconsciousness could not simply be willed away--it had agency of its own to some degree. It held answers, she knew. But she also knew they were not going to solve everything Philip represented here, now.

Philip's form wavered into shadow again, and the goddess watched as Philip took off the cloak she had created and threw it almost gently into the sky where it became part of the fabric of the dream again, dispersing into moonlight. The demon took shape again immediately and looked at Evan with curiosity, all the violence having gone out of it.

And then the goddess knew what she needed to do. She looked at Evan and said, "I hurt you both. Horribly." She said it simply, without despair. It was time for her to truly admit to this and to seek, of all things, redemption. The demon's tail lost its edge and sprouted fur.

"I've prioritized my own freedom over the well-being of your entire army. Of an entire country of Shel'ti," she said, and the cracks in the demon's skin glowed less and started to close, its height reducing slightly.

"I let my desire for revenge ravage your people, just like your king." Gods, that hurt to say, but it was true in a number of ways, and there was no point in hiding behind what greater evils Rorrim himself may have caused. The demon got down on all fours now, its eyes widening as more soft fur sprouted from its back.

"I've consumed myself and my realm out of loneliness and heartbreak, and there's been a gaping hole where a goddess should be," Dehaljadrun said, losing only a little of her confident posture but still holding her head high. The demon was now the size of a large cat, and though it was still horned, it looked rather harmless as its wide eyes glanced between Evan and the goddess.

Stepping closer to Evan now, eager to embrace him if he would allow it, she finally said, "All I can do now is heal and ask for forgiveness. Ask for it, and give it to myself." After a moment, she added, "Whether or not you're with me." She wanted to reassure him that none of this was dependent on him. This was her journey, and she needed to follow through with it even and especially if Evan did not return.

The horned creature nuzzled the side of Evan's leg, glancing up at him with a tilted head.

Maybe this was not the dream Evan wanted, but somehow she doubted he had really wanted the earlier one either. And, for now, this was all she had to give him. This was all she had to give herself.

Evan accepted her as she reached for him, and his chest heaved into hers. The knowledge that this wasn't what he wanted tugged at her. She didn't want to do this to him. But at the same time, some part of her knew this was right.

It was difficult to hold onto that when Evan pulled away from her so only their arms touched as his face shifted through a series of anguished and frustrated expressions. The shifting ended with fear and sadness. Was he afraid of her? She supposed he had every right to be. She wondered for a moment if, after everything, she would lose him in this dream. Gods, she should have stayed out of it. But she knew that all these things would still have lingered under the surface whether she had intervened or not.

Evan surprised her then by directing her--and the dream--into a forest, which was raining and frigid with cold. A chill shot through her heart when she recognized it from the other dream Evan had fallen into with her. It was the same forest where he had been injured and lay against the tree while hypothermia threatened. But she looked at Evan, and he wasn't injured now. His hand still clung tightly to hers as he pulled her through. The goddess looked around, then, searching for Evan's father--she didn't especially want to see him either--but there was no one around.

As they walked, the goddess could hear Evan crying, but the rain washed the blood from his scrapes away and even grew warmer as they approached some lights in the distance. Perhaps if Evan made it there, this place that had been too distant for Evan to reach when he had been injured, something would be complete for him. Perhaps there was closure here, if not with her than within himself.

Her grip on his hand softened as she followed, and some of her previous peace from before the dream began to return. The storm around them started to let up, and the village ahead of them actually seemed within reach. A number of villagers came out of their homes and other buildings to meet them on the outskirts, most of their faces shapeless but welcoming nonetheless. The goddess hesitated for a moment, uncertain that she wanted to deliver Evan to these people. She knew that was her jealousy acting up, though, which was ridiculous since Evan had clearly created these people from his own subconscious, but she could not help it.

Still, with only a moment's pause, she kept walking with Evan, and at last the people welcomed him, clasping his shoulders heartily and guiding him toward a central fire where he could warm up. They ignored the goddess, and she let go of Evan's hand, a sadness washing over her as they laid him down onto a cot near the warmth and stroked his cheeks, his chest, his hair with kindness and comfort.

But then, she had an idea. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to dissipate into mist. Small pieces of her flowed into each of the people touching and comforting Evan until she was touching Evan with a dozen hands. After massaging away his aches and pains, they all knelt against the cot and placed both hands flat on him, willing all the goddess' love for him into him at once in throbbing, pulsing waves she hoped he was ready to accept.

You're here, and I love you. You're safe. I need you. You're here, and I love you. And you're safe, the goddess told Evan in his mind.

Thank you, was all the goddess could hear within her mind, which felt bittersweet after everything she had confessed. But he was accepting her again, in the form of all these other beings, gently guided by her presence, and she saw the beauty of the moment for what it was. Except that it was ending. Honestly, she had not entirely expected it to last this long. That the dream had remained stable during Evan's approach to the village certainly felt like a triumph. Still, it felt like she had to leave him all over again.

He still has the scale, the goddess reminded herself, and he'll wake up with this feeling. The thought did comfort her. So, when the moment of separation came of its own accord and Evan's consciousness slid away from hers, she did not fight it.

When she opened her eyes again, she was still on her knees, hands outstretched, looking at the beginnings of what would become another home. The area around her surged with potential--all she needed to do was direct it.

She felt older somehow, her chest heavy and aching, but she was determined not to fall into despair. She knew exactly where that temptation would lead.

The goddess gathered herself and her magic, closing her eyes just to remember the sensations of Evan's embrace, of how he swam in the pool of her tree, of the way he absorbed and channeled her lightning. The land beneath her was practically electric with it, and it glowed when she looked at it all again. Raising her hands up to her misty lavender sky, she named each of the tree pillars and summoned their growth up from the earth. They twisted and shaped themselves toward her will, widening and flattened branches where they reached for one another to create whole floors and ample ledges, stairs and crooks for sconces. The canopy of dark purple leaves grew dense and curled inward on itself, offering both warmth and privacy with sparse areas to serve as windows.

Guided as though herself in a dream, the goddess walked toward the trees and into them as the trunks of the trees widened at their bases and became partially hollow. The massive trees began connecting together through a circular set of rooms with one enormous room at the very bottom center where it was possible to look up and see each of the distinct trees, all the ledges, all the intricate weaving of the branches. And, up above, all the way at the top beyond the crowning leaves were the stars looking down upon her.

The goddess looked at the large flowers that had initially grown in the center of this room, and they grew larger without even a thought from her, towering two stories over her. Around them, a deep but narrow circular pool of water appeared. The roots coiling under her feet softened and molded around her skin, making a sensuous, uneven ground that was warm to the touch. Stairways on either side of towering flowers finished growing, leading up to the maze of wide platforms above. The goddess touched one stair and hummed, pleased with her handiwork and how much the realm itself had filled in and understood her intentions. Walking to the back of the large room, the goddess could see three doorways. On the left and right, cozy rooms with bedframes built out of the tree trunks themselves. In the back center room, there was the circle of sacred stones, having been enveloped by the tree at the back and given a place of honor.

No throne in this palace, the goddess realized. There was no need for one.

As the goddess looked around, she realized she was breathing heavily. Magic still seeped out of her as the branches kept reaching for each other, finally knitting themselves together at the very top, several stories above her, to form a watertight roof. She let the magic finish--or at least pause--as she fell to her knees in front of the giant flowers. She reached out to touch one of the black leaves and felt it vibrating with life, sister to the succulents that formed the gates to the underworld, but harmless. The goddess smiled and looked up at the wonder that was her new palace, falling onto her back with her hair splayed out in all directions. She laughed then--tired and delirious and happy. She was in love again. She had something to look forward to again. And soon, there would be more of this magic than she knew what to do with. Soon, she would be free.

Free. The thought sobered her for all it meant and for how it felt as though it hung by a thin, fragile thread. But, still, it was there.

Dehaljadrun closed her eyes, placing a hand over the center of her chest, and remembered how it felt to surround Evan in the pool inside her sacred tree, all the fluids holding and caressing him. And she remembered the lightning she had sent again and again through his body and into the tree. She had trusted him. She continued to trust him.

Opening her eyes again, she looked up from where she lay on the deliciously uneven floor. The goddess waved her hands around her, beckoning cascading purple vines with glowing red berries to grow from the canopy, creating tangled walls and banisters along the platforms. She lit the sconces with her electric purple flames, biting and crackling against the remnants of the magic in the air.

And then the goddess imagined and summoned from the ground thin gold, red, and purple grasses. Immediately, they began weaving themselves into elaborately detailed tapestries, each spanning the entire open area from corner to corner. They were just delicate enough to let the light from the berries and the fires through. On the first tapestry, the goddess wove a memory--standing in the center of the summoning circle, facing off with Evan as she began to untie her skirt. She bit her lip as the grasses wove every angle of Evan's body from her memory, his hands digging nails into his chest.

On a second tapestry, she wove an image of herself as a dragon coiled around the smallest of the soldiers she had claimed from Evan's army camp. Her tail curled around him, and in the colorwork, the smoke coming from her nostrils almost seemed to lift off the thin fabric.

On a third tapestry, the goddess wove the memory of diving under the waterfall with Evan, their essences pulled by the flow of the river such that it was difficult to tell where their bodies began and the river ended.

On a fourth tapestry, Dehaljadrun threaded the memory of looking into Evan's enormous dragon eye, its silver sheen unmistakable. The background was full of storm clouds, but in the image, she reached a gentle hand to caress him.

On a fifth tapestry, the goddess remembered again the lightning as it coursed through Evan and into the tree, the brilliant streaks of electricity leaving Evan's body in silhouette.

When she was finished, the goddess open her eyes, seeing the ways the tapestries crisscrossed each other all the way up the trees, attached first to one landing and then to another higher one. The sparkling red, purple, and gold grasses shone and flickered in the low light, mottling the floor below in a sumptuous cascade of color.

Then, the goddess willed the water from the springs to bubble up at the edges of the main lower area, creating two half circles of a flowing fountain, streaming down from the wall on each side. The water steamed gently, pleasantly, warming the space even though the large door-like gap in the tree bark where the goddess had come in let in a fresh flow of the outside air. She then put much smaller pools on two of the higher landings--small pockets of warmth and water.

Lastly, she imagined and manifested furnishings--cushions and blankets made of softened plant material in the rooms and on the landings like the ones she had in her previous palace.

Gods, it was all so beautiful.

The goddess lay on the floor of her palace, staring up through the tapestries at the glowing lights, for a long time. She was tired, but it was a satisfied kind of tired, and she felt strongly that she would recover from it. Evan had given her much the previous evening--she had a well of magic to draw on. Placing the portal she had clutched all this time back in her satchel, she sighed happily, excitement building in her belly as she thought about the upcoming ceremony. Soon, there would be ten volunteers, in addition to Evan. They would keep her company any time she worried about Evan while he was gone.

Would Evan go to the underworld after tonight, then? The goddess thought back to their arrangement at the summoning ceremony. The army wanted to get into place at the capital before it released her--or, at least, the goddess had made that offer to placate Evan's concerns about what she might do. But had it been explicitly negotiated? Well, even if so, it hadn't been renegotiated when Evan needed the Shel'ti released.

Then again, the goddess wanted Evan to have the best chance at success. Maybe he should have a full night of sleep before he went. But, he could sleep with her, certainly. She hummed at the thought. He would probably sleep better with her than without her, right? Unless she kept him awake, that was.

And would he feel the need to report back into his commander after his fifth night? The goddess didn't know. It seemed that she shouldn't count on any particular outcome.

But what did she want to do with herself in the meantime?

Maybe it was time to go and find the soldier who had so brazenly ran through the portal before Evan.

Standing, the goddess dressed herself in a draping set of black robes that accentuated her bare collarbone nicely and fell to her ankles. She gathered her satchel about herself and walked to the back room with its tiled stones and torches, now fully encased in the tree trunk. Massaging the wood on the back wall, the goddess made a secret compartment to place the portals and Samael's amulet in. She then massaged the compartment closed and put her sigil on the wood covering it with a wave of her hand. The mark smoked from the etching of flame.

Though she was loathe to leave her newly made palace, she knew it would still be here when she returned. No one had dared enter without her permission, after all. She still commanded respect in the realm, even after all these years.

But, first, she needed to find the human who had come through with Evan.

With a wave of her hand, the goddess lit all the torches around her. With a smirk, she realized that finding the soldier in her realm would be far simpler than trying to enter any of the soldiers' dreams in the human realm had been.

The goddess lay down in the center of the torches, closing her eyes. She took a few deep breaths to orient herself before she started to trace the soldier's path. They were here, in this tiled circle, with her at the beginning of the day. And, granted, the palace had enveloped that space now, but the essence of the place remained the same. Dehaljadrun called to mind the shape of the young soldier's face, their scent, the gentle urgency to let go as they allowed the lightning to rush through them without the goddess' intervention.

Something in the goddess' mental landscape--roughly mirroring the shapes and locations in her realm but in somewhat distorted in inverted colors--caught her attention. It was a small flash, a spark, as the goddess watched an afterimage of Raccoon get up from her meditation circle and head off toward the vineyard. With her consciousness, she followed the afterimage, watching as the soldier sampled the grapes and found them wanting. Well, they weren't exactly for eating, anyway. She followed them through the trees off into the distance. And then they climbed one, looking straight in the direction of the dark fae city.

The goddess groaned audibly, briefly pulling her back toward her body, but she bolstered her attention and self-control, following the afterimage of the soldier in triple-time as they headed toward the dark fae structures. As she had suspected, the soldier had been captured, and the goddess knew it would only be a matter of time before the dark fae came to bargain with her. As much as the fae enjoyed their human dalliances, they weren't stupid enough to try to hide from the goddess, and that's the only place the human could have come from.

The young soldier had been taken in by a young fae of relatively low status, if the goddess was understanding correctly, and relatively quickly transported to a shopkeeper. From that point--of course--the soldier was transported to the fae palace, where it appeared they were still located.

Satisfied with her search, the goddess returned to her body with a heavy sigh. She had hoped the fae royalty had not already gotten involved, but that appeared to have been wishful thinking. They would inevitably want to trade the goddess in exchange for the soldier. On the one hand, that would probably take a few days to orchestrate, but the other volunteers would arrive in a few hours, and the goddess didn't have any desire to inform the fae that she had yet more humans in her care. She didn't expect she would want to give up even one of them.

No, there was really nothing else to do except go to the fae palace herself.

What would the fae want this time, the goddess wondered. More of her wine. They always asked for wine. A portal, likely. The fae gates were unpredictable, and there was no guarantee that someone would come back or how long that would take. If the dark fae intervened in Asphodel, however, the goddess worried that the rebel army might consider that a betrayal of trust. Then again, surely there was no way to trace her involvement to the dark fae--she had only ever mentioned them in passing to Evan. And who was to say that they would interfere with the war? Asking them not to would only paint a target.

Gods, she didn't want to give them a portal. They were precious, especially these that she had collected with Evan. She thought of the portal she had shrunk for Evan down to the size of a pendant and smiled, rubbing her sternum.

Still, it was better to part with a portal--perhaps even two portals--if it meant protecting the volunteers from the dark fae, at least for a while. Was there anything more the goddess could offer them?

Gods, they always wanted her presence. But that never went well, and with the volunteers on their way and Evan poised to go to the Underworld, that sounded like a terrible idea, even just to plan into the future.

It would take too long to make another cloak, and she couldn't exactly give them the one in the making for Samael. Gods, Samael, the goddess thought. He likely wouldn't overlook the volunteers, either, and who knew when he would show up again. Surely he was also running out of portals. Dehaljadrun couldn't even remember the last time she had given him one. Maybe he had learned to create his own, somehow, although she very much doubted it.

The goddess sighed again, trying to think. Surely, she could come up with something more valuable.

She could, theoretically, sneak into the palace and take the soldier. Although, to get out unseen, that might cost her a portal anyway. Not to mention that it would be absurdly obvious who was responsible. No, as much as the goddess didn't enjoy the presence of the dark fae and their antics, she also didn't want to destroy whatever goodwill she still had with them, and that meant dealing with them fairly. The goddess had known it to be a risk when she let the young soldier wander free, but keeping them against their will felt... wrong, especially after everything that had happened with Evan.

Perhaps she could just go there and tell them to keep the soldier. That would prevent them from coming to her palace and still head them off. But, the sheer fact of her going at all would indicate that the soldier was valuable to her. Gods, she hated needing to think like a dark fae. Then again, hadn't she done just that during her dealings with Evan in the summoning? And what about all the objects they had traded?

Ultimately, the goddess collected two portals from her secret compartment in the tree-trunk wall and placed them in hidden pockets inside her long robes. She could think more about what to offer the fae after they made their initial request. For now, she needed to get to their palace.

The moons shone so brightly as the goddess walked out of her palace that it almost felt like daylight in her realm. The mist had even dissipated somewhat to give her an unfettered view of them. A beautiful night, and nearly high noon in the human realm, the goddess knew. She wondered how long Evan would sleep and again found herself with her hand on her breastbone. He had told her he loved her last night. Said it, and meant it.

Of course he loved her, the goddess thought. She was a goddess. But, no, she thought it was something more than simple worship. In fact, nothing about their relationship had been simple thus far. A warmth bloomed in her chest, but she tried to disregard thoughts of the captain. He would be leaving her soon. His five nights were nearly up, and he had the underworld to visit next. Who knew if he would come back.

So, instead, she focused on what she needed to become. Though she was remarkably resourced in her magic, even after remaking her palace, she didn't entirely feel capable of becoming a dragon, and she wasn't altogether sure she wanted that grand of an entrance, regardless. No, a simple trip to the throne room would likely suffice. No need to expend extra energy. The goddess didn't like the idea of waking--or interrupting--the king and queen, but the matter couldn't wait until the morning.

Looking up into the moonlight, the goddess held her satchel close to herself and closed her eyes, transforming slowly into a cloud of dark smoke that eventually coalesced into a large black swan with a light purple bridge over her nose. The swan still carried the satchel, knowing that she still needed to keep her promise to stay close to Ponderance for the duration.

The swan maneuvered her wing to check that the two portals had made it safely into her satchel as well before bending and leaping into the sky as a dark silhouette against the dim, moonlit night.

She flew high at first, tracing the haphazard path Raccoon had followed, and then heading onward toward the fae city. Remembering the last time she made an appearance there--one of Puck's many extravagant parties--she shivered, uncomfortable with the memory of waking up in Puck's royal chambers. She had made a fool of herself that night, much to her own dismay, and she was afraid the fae wouldn't take her seriously again--if they ever had.

Much of the citizens in the city were sleeping, and their dreams called to her. Their sing-song sounds were magnetic, but she knew they were also traps. Intoxicants in and of themselves--that was truly what had done Dehaljadrun in at the party. She had expected wine, but she hadn't expected a room full of people tricked into taking dreaming draughts. She shook her head with her long neck to banish the memory as she flew on, toward the palace at the edge of her ocean.

It was difficult to expand her awareness to find Raccoon while she was trying to say in the air, so she found a balcony to land quietly on, settling herself in and tucking her wings briefly. Then, she opened her mind, wary of the dreaming fae laid here and there in rooms throughout the palace. She longed for Evan then, potently, craving his well of energy and his skin against hers.

But she could do this.

Sure enough, she navigated through the palace with only her consciousness, seeking out rooms with occupants and leaving as soon as she could confirm they were not human. But, soon, she had searched every room of the palace and had not found Raccoon. Coming back to herself, the swan tossed her head in frustration.

After a few moments, however, she calmed enough to try something else. Getting into a meditative state and remembering what Raccoon felt like when they had cleansed the amulet, Dehaljadrun again followed the path from her palace to the fae city and looked for a trail that led away from the fae castle. Finally, faintly, she found it.

Opening her eyes once more, she took off from the balcony quickly, following that sense of Raccoon--surely sleeping if their energy was this faint--and discovered a caravan rolling in the direction of... her palace. In addition to Raccoon, who was clearly inside the carriage, there were four fae. Two who seemed fairly high ranking and their guards, no doubt. They were travelling through the trees like they did not want to be noticed, but they were clearly headed to see Dehaljadrun. Briefly, flapping with effort to keep herself high in the air, she calculated how long it would take them to arrive.

Too long, she thought. The volunteers would arrive shortly after the entourage, and that would make for rushed negotiations. Dehaljadrun knew it would be a grave mistake to become impatient with the dark fae.

Fine, then. It would mean a confrontation. The carriage was quickly approaching a clearing--that would work well. Dehaljadrun wished she had time to communicate with Ponderance, to encourage him to be subtle, but there was no simple way to make that happen now. She just needed to trust him.

Swooping down, the large black swan landed in the middle of the clearing, quickly becoming a large cloud of swirling black smoke before coalescing into the goddess' human form, this time with a black gown dripping with glittering black diamonds. It fell gracefully to the goddess' feet but meandered across her body in elegant cutouts that left little of her curves to the imagination. On her face was a determined, resolute smile.