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Fantasy The Gods (IC)

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ValinoreanDawn

Namarië
Epithemeus, Saturn's Eleventh Moon
February 12th, 2375


The gray dust of Saturn's eleventh moon crunched silently under the heels of the duo as they gingerly moved in elongated, awkward, jumps. Methodically planning their movements to not lose control as they traversed the surface of the moon. The oblong, non-spherical, moon of that interacted in a partial orbit of Saturn due to the interplay of the close twin celestial body Epithemeus interacted with: Janus. Epithemeus as a result had a shifting, weak, gravity of its own, and thus the denizens of the small mining colony on the Saturnine side of the just over sixty mile in diameter moon could only traverse its surface without hazard during specific times in the year. Colloquially, called 'Trade Days,' with the larger colony on the 'Space Side' or the side which faced away from Saturn. An old iron and nickel mine since partially converted to be an artificial habitat.

Either way, both stations were generally past their prime in terms of commercial interest. Far easier to reach and richer moons, asteroids, and other solar objects had been developed in the last century and such these far-flung outposts of Humanity had long given over to those who wanted peace and solitude. Away from the masses of mankind and their own social issues. Space was the wild west, the new wild west, the final frontier so to speak. And that frontier was moving ever outward. True, at one point the moons of Saturn were the fringe. The farthest one could go from Earth and the Inner colonies along the surfaces of Luna and Mars. That was decades past. What with colonies and stations built as far out as Pluto and automated probes seeking to find viable commercial interests in the Oort Cloud. Epithemeus was less the frontier and more just the backwater rural hick town on the edge of civilization.

"Should be coming up on Station 1's main airlock in a jiffy," said a male voice over the helmet comms of the duo.

"Jiffy? Another old Earther term?" The response was from a distinctly female voice.

"What. I like it. Means brief moment I think."

"Too much time with Station 2's Lexicon there Jakob."

Jakob chuckled, "Yeah well, colour me a bookworm."

"Bookworm?"

"Never mind."

"Say, what we trading with Station 1 with? We didn't bring anything."

"They're paying us back for the Solar power converters we loaned them last month. Picking up some fusion cores they got off a freight runner outta Ganymede."

Another hop and the duo sailed down into the dirt. The smaller, female of the pair, was about to make the next bound when the male, Jakob, held up a hand and said, "Wait." Of course, the voice and the hand movement were out of sync in the weak gravity of Epithemeus. His arm rising gently and slowly compared to his words. As if in some old stop camera montage. The woman's helmet swiveled from side to side. "Look," continued Jakob as he pointed gingerly at a rock outcrop. There, in the shadow of the outcrop was a slouched form. Distinctly humanoid.

Jacob was already bounding towards the EVA suited humanoid before the woman could offer complaint. Landing beside the body a full five seconds before her. Jacob slouched down, "Maria, this guy is from Station 1, look at the shoulder patch." Jakob pointed to the dusty shoulder patch that displayed in blue lettering, EPITHEMEUS STATION 1.

Maria spoke up as she continued to move her helmet from side to side, more jerking now in her movements, more caution, "Do we know who it is?"

"Let met check, Station 1 has over ninety families. May not be a face we recogni...its Charlie."

Maria jerked her head down, "The Station Chief Security Officer?" Sure enough, Jakob had reached behind the lip of the helmet's right hinge and pressed the small auxiliary lighting stud. flickering the suits interior lights on to illuminate the interior. There, mouth agape in pain, eyes dead and white, was the face of a man named Charlie. His dark skin already having the discoloration of decomposition. Though the lack of oxygen had greatly slowed the process.

"An accident?" quizzed Maria with a hint of nervousness.

Jakob reached down and brushed his hand over some of the fine moon dust, following a glint, and exposed a small pistol. "Man had his side arm drawn. Don't think this was an accident, Maria."

"We should radio home."

"Already sent a ping."

~~~

Maria was the first to see the shapes of six suited individuals drifting over a rocky outcrop. Letting the weak gravity arrest their fall slowly. Before commencing a series of hops to come before them. All of their suits bore the blue lettering declaring themselves members of Station 2. On the left breast of each was their names stenciled in white. John, Anthony, Kyle, Sebastian, Lewis, and Nicholas. All armed with an assortment of rifles except for Sebastian who also carried a shotgun mag-locked to his suits backpack.

"Christ, Jakob was right!" said Kyle.

John shot a quick remark, "Careful Kyle. We don't know who else is out here. Everyone put your radio transmitters to low power settings."

"What, think this was Poly--,"

"Let's not get too hasty."

Sebastian piped up, "Hasn't been a murder on Epithemeus in over sixty years, John. Even if this was an accident, what was Charlie doing all the way out here. He's over ten minutes from the Station 1 airlock and not even having an oxygen tank suitable for more than twenty-minutes of air." Station 1 and 2, in fact many out here in the void, followed a rule of thumb not entirely reminiscent to scuba divers on Earth. You take more oxygen than needed at all times in case of emergency or unknown factors. Everyone carried at least a small back up tank on their backs alongside the main internal tank as well in case of equipment failure.

John looked at Sebastian and knelt down next to the body. Checking the small wrist mounted computer on the corpse and the small back compartment of Charlie's suit. "Nothing but a gun only internal oxygen supply for fifteen minutes. Not even full. Was in a hurry, one way trip kind of hurry. Likely headed for us."

Everyone stiffened at that prospect. Station 1 was the larger of the two. Ninety families, over five hundred people. Station 2 had half that number.

"What should we do?" said Lewis.

"They might need help," replied John and Jakob nodded in agreement. As did Sebastian and Anthony. Kyle, however, objected by saying, "How do we know anyone is still alive?" John put a hand on Kyle's shoulder, "We will turn back if it is too dangerous."

~~~

"The airlock is open. Powers off," said Maria as the group approached the airlock to Station 1. The steel edifice of the station, which actually burrowed into the moon by several miles with various mines repurposed for farming and living space, was squat and dark. No lights from exterior lamps were on. Not even hazard lights. The group of eight approached the airlock warily. The heavy hydraulic powered door half open on its track. Moon dust having tracked inside from the cosmic wind blowing over the surface of Epithemeus.

"Keep radio transmitters on low power," reiterated John.

"But John, what if there are survivors inside?" shot Lewis.

"Best find out once we rule out no one nefarious is listening."

John crossed the threshold first, followed by Jakob, then Maria, Sebastian, and so forth. Reaching the interior panel the screen was dead. No power. John knelt down and pulled off a panel cover and with improvised ingenuity from years of experience jerry rigging equipment, he managed to cause a jolt of wires that caused the hydraulics to engage. No air rushed out to the vacuum. Instead, the interior airlock drifted open into the antechamber.

Shuffling inside John did the same trick and the door slid closed beside them before the antechamber hatch opened. Allowing them into the station proper. Everyone checked their wrist computers. Station oxygen levels were normal. Must be no structural compromises. Everyone one by one switched on their helmet lamps amid the darkness. Casting eyes about the entrance hall to the station. A scene of mild disarray was around them. Equipment left on the floor. Furniture shoved haphazardly about. Sebastian took out a small pistol he had on his hip and handed it to Maria, "Just in case."

"Thanks."

The group moved into the room, casting lights about the place, peering through hatch windows into the spaces beyond. "Stay together," reminded John. This time speaking without helmet communications. Moving to the opposite end of the hall the group opened the hatch leading to the industrial storage warehouse. Not four steps in did Sebastian kneel down and cast his helmet lamps on the floor, "Got blood over here...and the body." Following the trail of blood his helmet lamps illuminated a slumped corpse of an older man in work overalls. A gash in his neck being the likely death wound.

"A blade did this." stated Jakob matter of fact.

"So perhaps a murderer is on the loose?" added Lewis nervously.

Sebastian glanced up at Lewis, "A murderer killed five hundred people?"

John walked by, "We don't know if everyone is dead. Come on. We gotta get to the main control room. Can access station power and cameras there."

The group fell in, more alert now, weapons raised as they made their way through the warehouse. Passing a few more corpses with telltale slash wounds on their bodies. Reaching the double doors, they pried the doors open and walked in. Reaching a lift John indicated for Anthony and Lewis to stay here. "Watch our exit. Only radio incase of emergency." Both men nodded inside their helmets. The other six loaded into the lift and allowed it to rise six levels before the back opened up into a large central hallway. Here, red emergency lights flickered.

Stepping out first, rifle raised, was Sebastian, followed by the rest of the troupe. To the left was a cafeteria, windows splattered in blood with dozens of bodies littering over tables, the floor, and slumped on chairs. As if some wild melee of madness had claimed their lives. Maria almost vomited in her helmet and only the reassuring hand of Jakob allowed her to swallow it back down. The sextet reached the end with MAIN CONTROL stenciled in black above the hatch door. John pressed the panel stud to open the door, evidently emergency power was still on in this level, and the hatch slid open. The bodies of the main control centers staff were sprawled about.

"They got everyone," said John as he stopped by the form of an older man with graying hair. STATION CHIEF was stenciled above his name on his work overall.

"They?" responded Sebastian.

Maria looked out among the wide windows of the control center and paused as she looked down at the hangar scaffolding. "What ship is that?"

The word ship caused everyone to freeze in their tracks. Huddling around Maria the group looked down and saw a sleep craft, black, red, and gold, with backswept wings and motifs of a sha around the nose of the craft. Large enough to be a gunship and hold a crew of up to forty.

"Setites."

"Christ." said Sebastian and this time no one stopped them.

"Well, where are they?"

"We got Death Cultists? Why would the Polytheists attack us."

"Setites are often extremists. Why they're often fought by other god aligned forces to curb their extremist violence."

John branched off from the group and began running his fingers over a keyboard. Bringing up a video footage and log. The station had had communications with a freighter transiting from Neptune's moons to Mars. A day later the gunship had arrived, ignoring hails, and had merely docked without warning. John switched off the footage before he saw what he knew would be displayed. The futile struggle of the station's inhabitants against much better equipped and trained militants.

"We got to go. Lockdown Station 2. Run silent. Make everyone think home is abandoned," rattled off Jakob and Sebastian agreed.

The radio chimed with the voice of Anthony, "Someone just opened a hatch in the next compartment. Should we check it out?"

Sebastian, practically yelled into his helmet mic, "Get on the lift now!"

No response, the lift back down the hallway illuminated as someone activated it. Sebastian reflexively knelt down by the doorway to the main control center with his rifle at his shoulder. The lift opened and out stepped Anthony and Lewis. "What's going on," said Lewis with confusion.

"Lock the lift."

"What?"

"Lock the fucking lift!" Sebastian had not even finished his response when the lift doors closed and began to descend again. The rune for it being called lighting up.

"Whats goi-."

"Setites!"

Lewis and Anthony looked at each other and then sprinted away from the lift. John swept past Sebastian and towards a side hatch to some recreation rooms. "Come on, we'll get around them and make for the air lock. We know the terrain out there we can lose them."

"They have a bloody gunship!"

"Not if they think we're still IN this station."

The group sprang into action. Rushing through the side hatch which John tore out the control wiring for as he went through. Jamming the door closed. The group moved rapidly down the hall and took a sharp left and then a right. Going through a side maintenance hatch they arrived at a ladder that led down. "Six levels down, go, go, go." John gestured them through one at a time. Each person grabbing the ladder and beginning to slide down with the practiced precision of people that had grown up on such stations.

Sliding down first was Sebastian who immediately took up position, checking corners, he moved forth with everyone following in more or less single file behind him. Traversing the corridor until they came to the warehouse and then the air lock. Everyone broke into their fastest pace once they hit the moon dirt. Making for home.

~~~

Station 2, Control Room

"There they are," said a slender woman in blue overalls as she pointed out the window of the control rooms observation windows. The much smaller Station 2 still had the squat appearance of its larger brethren. Complete with the top-level control suite to overlook the station. The rest of the four control room staff got up from their stations to see eight figures coming toward them.

"Lockdown the station," came the voice of John over the control room communications terminal.

A man, Jasper stenciled on his breast lapel, moved back and knelt by the terminal speaker, "Come again, John?"

"Lock. Down. The. Station. Jasper."

"John, what's going on. We received an emergency message from Station 1 a few minutes ag---."

"Do not respond to that message!"

"John, all we sent was an all-clear and asked if they need assistance."

"Jasper you fucking killed us all!"

The sextet was at the airlock by now and filing inside when a proximity LIDAR ping sounded. Drifting into view over the moon's horizon, kicking up a cloud of dust, was a black-red-gold gunship.

"Oh, Lord," was all Jasper could say before a beam of red-white light from the gunships prow railgun caused the control room to detonate. The explosion only a split second as the oxygen in the room was pushed into the vacuum of space. Debris drifting like an expanding cloud in the weak moon gravity.

The gunship swept over and landed on top of the station. Armored figures dispersing with the distinctive sha mythological animal motif of Set on their armor and shape of their helmets.


~~~

Claire, one of the few young women on Station 2 not yet married or a mother, awoke from her bunk as the station shook. She let out a gasp of fright as her room door slid open and there was Maria, her older sister, and a man named Jakob. They grabbed her by the hand and hauled her into the hallway. People running and screaming towards the lifts leading into the mines.

"What is happening?!"

"We're under attack," replied an exasperated Maria.

"Under attack?"

"Setites."

Claire clutched something in her pocket and began a silent prayer. Gunfire erupted somewhere in the station but close enough to be heard.

The trio entered a main hall with ten others racing for a singular hatch. Several dropped with their backs peppered by hypersonic rounds from an armored figure coming from the hatch on the other end of the hallway. The armored figure suddenly flew back and crashed onto the ground. Behind them Sebastian and Lewis had come and were opening fire onto the armored figure and whatever was beyond the hatch it had come from. Lewis suddenly dropped with plume of red erupting from his skull. Sebastian pulled him to the side by his torso straps. Firing non-stop.

"Sebastian come on!"

"Go!" came the response. Jakob and Maria huddled onto the awaiting lift with various others. The doors closing to the sound of gunfire above. Descending into the depths of the moon. All the while, Claire continued her prayer.

~~~

"It's been ten hours. No one has come down here?" said Jakob amid the people huddled in the bunker like shelter deep in the moon. An old emergency shelter for miners long converted to the resident's usage. Near their own small hydroponic farms.

It was dark, only handheld lamps illuminated the space; it was the three of them. Maria, Jakob, and Claire. The others who had gone down with them had moved to other compartments and sealed themselves inside.

Claire kept muttering her prayer and it was then that Jakob noticed she was clutching something in her pocket. Something unnerved him and he approached rapidly, "Jakob!" He pushed aside Maria who tried to intercept and forced a hand into the pocket against Claire's protests. Pulling out a small figurine in the shape of a turquoise woman.

"Blasphemer!" He smashed the figure on the ground.

Jakob grabbed Claire and hauled her, kicking and screaming, amid cries from Maria to the door of the shelter and opening it he shoved her out into the darkness of the hallway. Locking the shelter door behind her. Claire could only cry as she shuffled along on all fours. Searching for the walls and moving along to a door. Sliding it open manually she passed through the dark leaves of hydroponic racks until she came to a second door. Opening that she meandered down a pitch-black hallway purely by touch. Running her hand over a terminal she managed to luckily press a stud that illuminated a screen. Doors opened and lights lit up. The lift they had gone down earlier.

She blinked and for a moment though she saw a human with turquoise skin in the corner of the lift. She blinked again and nothing. Yet, looking around she was on the lift now. "No!" She tried to turn back but the doors closed behind her. The lift rising Claire sunk down and sobbed. Knowing death or worse awaited her beyond those doors once the lift arrived.

The lift chimed and the doors slid open to a light shown in her face. She held up a hand and something grabbed her. She screamed and was let go. Causing her to crash back to the ground. "You'll live girl. Relax."

She paused from her crying to look up at the figures above her. Several armored figures bearing panoplies forged in the shape of hawks. Horusians. Warriors of the Winged God of the Sky.

One of the Horusians turned his hawk like helmet with its golden visor to the side. Claire followed his look at a figure in an EVA suit that was aesthetically constructed to look distinctly egyptian. Helmet striped like a head dress in blue and gold. Visor the color of turqoise. Holding a staff bearing the symbols of Hathor. "This the adherent, Priestess?"

The Priestess knelt down to Claire, "Yes, fear not young lady. Our Goddess heard your prayers and has sent you aid."

"The Setites."

One of the Horusians spoke a single word, "Gone."
Earth, February 13th, 2375
Just North of Alexandria, Egypt


Great fanfare and waters clustered with ships around the magnificence of a city just across from the old city of Alexandria. Hanging gardens, gleaming pearly white citadels, towers domed in gold and jewels. Crystal clear pools and smooth marble streets. The Holy City of Ishtar. City of the Goddess of Love. Was preparing one of its most important annual festivals. The Festival of Love, celebrated on February 14th of each year since the return of the Old Gods.

Even now pilgrims flocked the streets and only matched in number by those seeking more secular revelries. Throngs of ships both maritime and those with shuttles descending from orbit came hourly, by the minute even. Packing the city as statues of various Gods were put on display. Painted in their traditional colors. Streamers filled the air and fireworks filled the night sky in the lead up to one of the most auspicious days of a Major God. A day often considered the "Birthday of Love," such an event was none the less as important as any of the other holidays associated with Major Gods. Indeed, such events often attracted displays of other Gods and their own adherents. Clergy and adherents of other Gods joined in the festivities while shrines to Minor associated Gods filled annexes and niches. Their own smaller congregations taking part. Such as the Goddess of Dance and Joy.

While in the primary residence of Hathor, the Dendera Palace, with its porcelain white pillars gilded with mosaics of gold, silver, and studded with jewels. Painted frescoes of flowers, plant life, and imagery of animals and life abounded. There, the Turqoise Lady watched the day and night revelry in silence. She heard their prayers, some louder than others, some clearer and more honest than others, the latter were the ones she cared enough to possibly answer.

Various other Gods would be present for such an annual event. The Goddess of Dance no doubt, the Sea, even her brethren Caedes were rumored to have made the journey, but he had not made his presence known yet. She glanced up and wondered if her father, Ra, was watching from on High. Beyond the doors of Night and the circles of the solar system. If he ever spared a moments glance at the happenings of the creation, he partook in creating.
 
Earth, February 13th, 2375
The grand capital of Atlantis

Atlantis. Home to the sea-folk, domain to the one and only Goddess of the Sea. However, their grand queen will come to make her appearance later in this tale, at the moment-

“Oops, sorry!”

One of the many sea-folk residing in the capital. Gills adorned the sides of his face, scales coming in multitudes of different areas across his skin. Teeth, sharp and pupils and sclera alike, a bright yellow.

“Ugh- sorry, sorry!” He rushed out a quick apology to yet another sea person he had managed to bump into. The sea person in question, a large burly man with a shark head, shouted after him in response. “Watch where you’re goin’ Caspian!” Before beginning to pick up the pile of construction work that had managed to fall during the encounter. Caspian in question, coming up to one of the many “sea routes” as the citizens called them in the capital, ushered out yet another apology before diving head first into the water.

A passage made of an underwater current would soon propel them, speeding up his travel and, by the time he reached the other end, a current going upwards would propel him out of the water and onto his feet. Shaking the water off much like a wet dog would, although the water was definitely welcomed, a smiled adorned his face. Caspian would then continue his journey, attempting to be at least a bit more careful in his rush at to not anger and interrupt the work of the ever-working citizens living there.

In his rush, the buildings and people whizzing past him in a flurry of blurs – the distinctive thing that would always make itself welcome, was the music. The music and spectacles that would often occur near the center of the citadel that belonged to their one and only Goddess, were always the very spiritual, near hypnotic sort. The songs themselves would mostly preach Salacia’s word, while others sang hopes for the future of all sea-folk, and the beauty of the Ocean among other things. However, this energy for their culture would only amplify the closer one would get to the citadel, as you may witness many preforming their craft to a crowd of sea-folk and human alike, or singing their songs.

One thing was for certain, and that Atlantis never sleeps. There is always something to work on or to do for the sea-folk and humans who reside there. As, if anyone were to take a casual stroll through the city, not only was the center of it all filled with much song and dance, but also the everyday man. Many carrying arms full, to even pounds of goods, or construction supplies. All rushing, working, preaching, in honor of their Queen, and to grow Atlantis even further. For the servants who resided there, Atlantis was so much more than a city, it was single ecosystem, a way of life. To be a part of Atlantis, and it's growth, felt - for many - akin to being one of a family.

And, although, whilst Caspian would love nothing more than to stay watch the many performances going on, along with the many students making their way to their respective schools, maybe even participate in some of the banter and even be offered to go to one of the many activities that occurred under the water. It had taken Caspian bumping into one of the many Phylakes guards stationed around the citadel for him to notice, he has finally come to arrive at his destination.

“So- so sorry!” He quickly ushered out, taking out a crumbled letter from his pocket, bowing his head quickly and bestowing it to the Phylake. “F-for- for our Queen.” The Phylake, Aegir, while one of the lower rank and being stationed as a guard, was till a large man towering over Caspian by a good foot or two, stared down at the letter. Slowly, Aegir took the letter, quirking an eyebrow at him, which, having a squid for a head, seemed almost comical if not for the holy status the man possessed.

“And from whom would this letter be from boy? And rather, how did you come upon this?”

“Oh come now Aegir, go easy on him.” A female voice would speak up.

A woman, Lina, fellow guard to Aegir and who looked distinctly more human that sea, the only noticeable feature about her being the length of her jaw and her teeth. Her jaw, protruding outwards compared to her upper lip, with wide and tall teeth going upwards, would form her unique form of a smile as her golden armor shimmered in the light, trident at her side. Caspian, now being in the presence of two Phylakes, while although wasn’t uncommon in their culture, he was more than ready to leave their presence. He gulped.

“U-um- well- uh- I found it- while I was swimming with some friends-“

Aegir, with one mighty glance towards him would silence Caspian. Aegir then proceeded to look more at the letter, “Hm…well it was certainly made with thought in mind. Most of those land-walkers don’t even consider while you may send a letter through water, there’s no possible way that letter is actually going to survive.”

Lina quirked her own eyebrow upwards, approaching him and taking the letter into her hand. “Interesting, must be pretty important than…but if it was addressed to our Goddess, why would it be in the sea?” Lina would ponder this as she opened up the letter. After pursuing through the contents for a while, she would then come to shake her head.

“Well, I believe I understand now.”

Caspian, now seeing this as his grand getaway, would bow politely to the two holy Phylakes, ushering out a quick “Thank you for allowing me to be in your presence!” Before running off.

Lina watched him, with a smile and a shake of her head. “Honestly Aegir, I think you are going to scare off everyone who wishes to seek our Queens time.” Aegir, merely crossed his arms.

“And you, Lina.” He started, “Seem to forget our role. Our place in this city, we do not have time for pranks from the youth.”

“And what makes you really think this is a prank, when this is related to the Birthday of love?”

Aegir would halt for a moment then, eyeing Lina, before looking to the letter. He was silent then, allowing the woman to continue. Lina carefully fixed every crease that the letter had endured on its journey, “While of course, our Queen would have perhaps been sent a more – divine way, of messaging. This-“ Lina closed it back up. “Well, you know how our Queen gets with every Birthday.”

Aegir would let out a sigh then, shaking his head slightly, the air causing his tendrils to writhe and squirm. “I see.” Lina, with a nod of her head, looked towards the citadel, “So…guess I’m up huh?”

“It seems so.”

Lina smiled, albeit slightly given her jaw, “I suppose sometimes even our Queen can seem human too, hm?”
-----
The inner workings of the citadel, was just as pristine as the outside. Water seemed to be rushing downwards, or even, rushing upwards in all kinds of places. With even the stairs themselves being created out of simply that, water. It was obvious to any and all who entered, that Salacia trusted the Ocean to assist her with the inner workings of her citadel. With a spiraling staircase reaching upwards to a platform where the sea Goddess typically remained, well, before she was out contributing to more work towards her people.

Usually, her presence would be announced that she has returned home, and one and many would seek her presence, be it for advice, blessings, etc. However, today, the Phylake would make her way up to the throne room of the Goddess of the Sea, protector of all life – to convince her of reason.

“No.”

“But, my Queen-“

Salacia put her hand up, silencing Lina. Although, not out of malice or digression, as a warm smile eased it’s way onto her face. “Lina…I understand that, while yes, it would be a pleasure to be at such an annual event. After all, it is quite…festive.” Salacia chose carefully, finding the proper word for it. “However, it is not my duty to be there.” She rose from her throne made out of shells, coral, and the like, making her way across the room which laid to a giant window – allowing one of the most breathtaking views of all of Atlantis.

Lina, immediately would rush to her side, standing at a respectable distance. Salacia spoke once again. “But my people, all of my people, are my top priority. After all, I would much rather spend my time in company that I…desire, least to say.”

“If I may speak, my lady.” Lina started out slow, her head bowed, “I understand this. Truly, you have done much to make this city thrive – however…”

“However?” Salacia would repeat, quirking an eyebrow to her.

“However.” Lina stated, “If you would grant me even somewhat of the honor of allowing you a different perspective to the event, I believe that may help improve your feelings towards it..”

Salacia stared at her for a moment, maybe more. Before reaching towards her, placing her hand atop her head gently, and with a nod, “You may speak.”

Lina dropped to her knee and closed her eyes, not daring to speak even a word until Salacia’s hand was lifted, and, with another bow of her head, she looked upwards towards Salacia and began. “I believe…if you saw this as more of an opportunity for Atlantis, for you to grow your word, and perhaps even opportunities to allow Atlantis to thrive even greater…” She trailed off, taking a moment to observe her Queen’s expression. Salacia, while not smiling, seemed to be pondering this. Then, with a sigh, she looked outwards towards the grand window once again.

“…Every year, you all get better at convincing.”

Lina couldn’t help the wide smile that adorned her face, although she quickly dropped it in favor of bowing once again and rising to her feet. “Shall we prepare the seahorses then?”

Salacia continued to stare down at her city of Atlantis, before focusing on her reflection in the mirror.

After a moment of observing her own reflection, she would nod with a sigh, “Yes.” She looked back towards Lina, a warm smile yet again present now, “Prepare the seahorses.”
-----
Earth, February 13th, 2375
Just North of Alexandria, Egypt

Salacia rode into the Great city of Ishtar, clad in one of her finer garments intended for her more “land” related business matters. The carriage itself was one of gold, coral, shells, clams – beads of pearls going vertically served as the doorway to the spectacle. Mighty seahorses served as the “horses” in this case, riding on a thin layer of water, which the carriage itself was also riding on. The water underneath was self-contained by Salacia, ensuring that no passersby would get splashed with the onslaught of water or ruin any of the many decorations around the city.

Of course, accompanied with her were two of her most high-ranked of the Phylakes. A man, Marin, with greying blue skin, a long, aging white beard, and a mighty golden helmet connected to wide, bulky pure golden shoulder pads. There was a scar, running long against his exposed chest as well. While, for the other, Nerissa, she carried herself with her head high. Her outfit, adorned with many golds, and a golden headpiece going upwards and curving much akin to a blade at the ends, with eyes slanted and all black.

Each held their might tridents in one hand, while they each held a gift in the other, one of Salacia’s choosing that the Queen would often bring as a courtesy to the Goddess of Love herself. The gifts themselves were carefully contained within a water made box, a bow running sideways and across, tied together with a bow at the top. Really, it could have came across slightly simple, but Salacia was never one to put up a spectacle when it come to Hathor. Although never spoken aloud, Salacia was rather jealous of the Goddess. After all, to be able to have such a following – she has sat in her throne room many times, thinking of the possibilities for Atlantis if she were that known, that worshipped.

However, Salacia, with all her might, attempted to clear her thoughts stray from this line of thinking. After all, every year she would come, she would feel the same way, and go back home much wishing she had never gone at all. Despite her personal feelings however, she couldn’t help but allow the festive mood to overtake her as well, seeing all the colors, the people – perhaps Lina was right about seeing this differently, perhaps this years festival, may actually come out to be a good one for the Queen of the Sea? But not only that, but for all of Atlantis if things go in the Queen’s favor.
 
Earth, February 13th, 2375
Holy City of Ishtar, Egypt


Music thrummed through the dimly lit nightclub, neon light arcing and cutting through the throng like waves on a stormy sea. For all the ways humanity had changed, this could be a scene from 1980, or 2180, or 2000 BCE. Human beings touched by libation, and by each other, moving in an exuberant, chaotic wave. The establishment did not generally open during the day, but a day in which Hathor presided was a chance to party even in the sun's light. Not that a single ray of it reached down here.

For her part, Sachiel called little attention to herself outright, her glowy bracelets waving in the air to accentuate the glow-in-the-dark paint splattered over her. She stomped and jumped with the others, the revelry invigorating her, flowing into her like vital blood through one's arteries. The crowd fed her, and in her dance she fed them in return.

The woman on stage whooped and hollered, her baggy, overlong shirt looking much like a priestess' robe as she wove sistrum and oud into the pounding beat, no doubt unconsciously buoyed by Sachiel's very presence. "Give it up in the name of the goddess of loooooooove! And in the name of the Lady of Dance, ladies get their first drink freeeeeeeee!" She bellowed, quite satisfied with her self at presenting the club's boilerplate.

"Omigosh, sorry!" A thick woman in a tight, tight dress was barely audible over the music as she unwittingly tipped her (rather out of place) martini glass over Sachi as another partygoer bumped her.

"Oh, no biggie!"
In a smooth motion, Sachi cradled the woman in one hand, sweeping her onto one leg for a moment before righting her. Good to know that bodycon was back in fashion. "Enjoy the party!" With a subtle swoosh of her finger, she filled the glass back up with the bright pink fluid it apparently held, before disappearing into the crowd. A chill touched her the moment the drink landed on her, though she wasn't sure the two were related.

Slipping out of the building in her disheveled state, she leaned against the wall at the back of the nightclub, blinking at the bright sky. The hissing of water ran through the dry roads of the city; Salacia? Perhaps she could try and catch up...
 
The Grand City of Ishtar
Feb 13th, 2375


"You should attend, Lord Caedes." The soulless whisper of a fleshless reaper suggested, gliding among the sands of the underworld.

"It is a celebration of love. I would be completely out of place." Caedes replies, his own feet bare, shifting through the sands. "Would you go where you aren't wanted?"

"I am a reaper my lord. I am never wanted."

"Well I'm not a fan of imposition."

"My lord, you are the God of Death. You are the imposition."

"If you're just going to make me feel worse, then why am I talking to you?" Caedes asks, sounding annoyed.

"Who else would you talk to?" The reaper asks in return.

"I'd rather be alone. I usually am. Leave me." With a swish of his hand the reaper sends off. Leaving Caedes alone with his thoughts. Thoughts of doubt, fears, angers, resentments. Thoughts that always dwell back to Ra and being condemned to ruling the Underworld while his kin were venerated. Condemned to the only prayers he hears being that he stay away. Or the rare Setite death worshipper. They perturb Caedes the most. Listening on as they eventually rebuke him. They are always judged poorly, and left to succumb to eternal darkness. Cursing Caedes' name as they believed he would prevent such a fate. Hearing the only people who love you, curse you as their final words, piles onto the mountain of disdain that he feels at almost all times. 'I should go.' He thinks to himself. 'Why should I let others stop me? I'm a damned God. I'd like to see her anyway. Hers is the only opinion that actually sways me.' As he considers it more, the idea of skipping a celebration for Hathor feels wrong. 'No, I have to go.' and yet even with a resolute statement, doubt remains in his mind. Doubt that he pushes away as he travels to Ishtar. Arriving in the crowds of the celebration.

Caedes chose to cloak himself in black, hoping to conceal himself among the crowds. But as he sees the many colorful clothes of the people celebrating, especially the many people wearing turquoise, he realizes how foolish of a decision that was. Choosing instead to forego the cloak and walk freely among the people. Not everyone recognizes him. But those that do feel an instant sense of dread. Many fearing for their lives at the possibility that the God of death has come for them. For now though, he has not. He will, or more likely one of his reapers will, one day. But today is not that day. Today, and more so tomorrow, are days for love not death.

Caedes teleports himself within the Dendera Palace. Looking around at its opulence and vibrant colors. Feeling utterly out of place. Like a single black blemish on an otherwise colorfully gorgeous painting. He doesn't let his face betray his emotions though. Keeping a resolute stare as he proceeds through the halls. Hoping to find someone he recognizes, and someone who will not be opposed to his presence at such an event.
 
Dendera Palace

Hathor, in the form of the Turquoise Lady, eyed the festivities from a high balcony. The atmosphere was intoxicating, and she could feel the sea of prayers and jubilant tributes paid in her honor. Behind her, servants read off divine attendees, numerous demigods and minor gods had made their presence known and arrived with their own entourages. Throngs of their own faithful patron worshippers filling the streets. A lavish affair. But was not love itself the most luxurious emotion of all?

"Salacia and Sachi are present. Taking part in the festivities. Also, Lord Caedes ha--," Hathor turned her head to look at the servant who paused mid-read.

"So, Caedes has seen fit to leave the darkness of the underworld for a moment in the sunlight. Touching."

The servant was taken aback by this statement but made ready to continue reading until Hathor held up a hand for them to cease altogether. "Invite all three to the palace for tonight's celebrative feast."

"My Blessed Lady, The Lord of Death is already here. He arrived a moment ago and meanders through the halls."

Hathor straightened, "And I was to be told of this when?"

"My Ble-," Hathor briskly walked by the servant and waved them away.

Traversing the palace was easy for Hathor, after all it was a place bound to her whims and wishes, and she knew the layout for it was something she had partook in creating. The vibrant colors and beauty of the palace a declarative masterpiece on the beauty of love itself. Needless to say, Caedes stood out with his dark brooding and drab attire.

"A change of atmosphere? Caedes." Said Hathor as she approached him.
 
Earth, February 13th, 2375
Holy City of Ishtar, Egypt




The atmosphere, the music, the people – rather, specifically, the few servants of her own that she could spot amongst the crowd – Salacia’s shoulders eased from their previous tensed state at the sights. A delicate smile would then grace her ethereal features as she waved to the passerby’s (mostly said servants) whose eyes would sparkle to life and offer a quick wave to her spectacle of transportation. As she continued this cycle, smile, wave, even crafting a small toy or figurine for the children, graciously handing it to them from the door or window – the carriage came to a sudden halt.

“What is it my lady?” Marin spoke first, wielding his spear at the ready near instantly. Salacia raised her hand.

“Stand down.”

This was enough for both of them to lower their weapons. Salacia remained silent however, staring at the place in the crowd – where she swore saw him, the one and only Lord of Death, Caedes.

Salacia exited the carriage, Marin and Nerissa following after. “I would like to stretch my legs.” She spoke up. The two nodded, and without question, Nerissa being the one to speak up this time, “That…club-“ There was a hint of disdain in her voice, after all, many of the high-ranked Phylakes weren’t exactly known for their ‘partying’ attributes. However, she continued. “Is it not open early during this time of the year?”

Salacia turned towards her – that was right, as the faint sound of the booming nightclub reached her ears. The Queen began to walk towards the direction of the nightclub, speaking without turning back. “Nerissa, stand guard and hold the gifts. Marin, with me.” Marin was already by her side, while Nerissa stationed next to the carriage as to ensure the seahorses would not get bombarded – the culprits typically being starry-eyed children or mortals who had way more than their fair share to drink – while holding the gifts that would soon be placed into the Goddess of Love’s hands.

With Marin in toe, Salacia would come upon the nightclub. The partying scene wasn’t one she was typically associated with, nonetheless, the mighty Queen did always feel a sense of solace whenever she got to speak to such a lively and bright individual such as Sachi. And, perhaps, it would be just the thing to clear her head before business would take up the remainder of her time at the festival dedicated to love.

Once arriving to the nightclub, taking the time to look for Sachi from within before promptly being guided to the back of the nightclub. Salacia approached her, examining her disheveled sight with a slight smile. “Well-“ She began, “From that look, I suppose the Festival of Love has been going well for you?”
 
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Without Sachiel noticing, the goddess of the sea was before her, as surely and unexpectedly as high tide. Salacia's presence was majestic as always, dignified yet welcoming as the waves of a steady sea.

Sachi greeted her with a wide smile, still unkempt but charming as always to the mortal revelers. Raising her arm up high, she swept it down into a formal bow. "Oh, my sister. There is no joy greater than to dance for the glory and great love of our mother." Some of the other minor gods had expressed their opinion that Sachi's overfamiliarity was off-putting, and her manner of reverence to the major gods sycophantic. But she paid them little mind. After all, the greater gods were their creators, and all they did was ultimately to serve them. That was the way of the universe, or her view of it at least.

"Already headed to the palace? Oh, perhaps I should get changed as well."

Rising up to stand straight, Sachiel smiled sweetly as she brushed her finger over Salacia's shoulder, as if an artist sweeping up paint from their palette.

Turning, she pulled a young man from the gathered crowd, as easily as plucking a flower. "Help me keep time, okay?" She blew him a kiss with a wink, sending a bright flush over his face. Hand in hand with him, she stepped to the riotous rhythm of the city's celebration, her glowing bracelets clack-clacking like castanets.

She spun him, and at her coaxing, he spun her, the glowing paint on her skin and clothes flaring off her like seafoam on the tossed waves of a stormy sea. With the oceanic essence she "borrowed" from Salacia, her clubwear morphed, turning to a sequined cocktail dress blending navy blue and seafoam green, reminiscent of the malachite that pleased Hathor so. The clacking of her bracelets turned to the chiming of bells, as the translucent plastic gave way to gold.

She gave the man a firm hug with both hands, and then a nudge, allowing him to rejoin the crowd with a story to tell whoever missed it.

"S-sachiel, Salacia! Praise be to our goddesses!"

"Praise be!" The crowd echoed the cheer.

"Now, shall we?" Sachi extended her hand to Salacia, expecting an offer to join her in the carriage.

dreamy0 dreamy0
 
Dendera Palace

Caedes smiles softly and brushes any errant strands of jet black hair from his face with his hand. He tries to maintain his composed demeanor. but a light blush on his otherwise pale face betrays his nervousness. The Turquoise Lady, always one of immense beauty. A sight that Caedes sees in his memories more often than in person. Yet it is always one of his favorite sights to behold.

"Y-yes." Caedes coughs to cover him stumbling over the word. "I can't say that it's what I would have done. But you have certainly made this one magnificent palace."

He pauses briefly. His eyes going back and forth from Hathor to the gorgeously decorated walls and ceilings. Paying special note to the vibrant colors of both the palace and the Goddess before him.

"I shouldn't act surprised. Few know how to light up a room as well as you can." Caedes says, with an elegant bravado. "I'd offer for you to visit my lands some time. But I'd fear that you might blind my reapers with your natural glow." He jests.

"Apologies if I'm intruding." He says with sincerity. "It's been so long since I've been here that, I can't say I remember the rules. But, I knew I wanted to wish you a happy Festival. Or should I be wishing you a happy birthday? The Birthday of Love is what the Humans call it, no?" He asks, semi rhetorically with a slightly sarcastic tone. Giving Humanity a light mocking in their lack of understanding of Godhood.
 

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