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a view. Sounds. Echoing and distorted, but there. The thunderous rush of the river as they swam through it, the snarling of the new man, dark-haired and grey-eyed—the chiding tones of Va'al. 

Alphonse couldn’t understand what they were saying, either because it was in a different language or because she was too far away for the words to hold meaning anymore. Either way, it was easy enough to understand their meaning: debates over which path to take, nostalgic murmurings with distant, starry looks, and harsh guttural fights. 

Perhaps the most baffling of these exchanges were the whispered compliments and sweet sentiments between Va'al and Enyo. At times Alphonse would see Va'al smirking at Enyo, his smile crooked and genuine, his eyes bright and steady. He loved her. As much as a God could love anything more than himself. And from the gentle touches she witnessed between the two, Alphonse knew Enyo loved Va'al too. In all her limited capacity. 

It was strange to think of Enyo as a being with feelings other than anger and lust. And it was uncomfortable to acknowledge that Va'al had clearly missed Enyo as much as Alphonse was certain Delyth missed her. 

The view changed again, and Alphonse pulled her attention away from her feelings for Delyth. Rising before her now was a reddish, stone tower, out of place in the middle of the plains. It was massive. Stark and strange.

The voices murmured, and someone laughed, but Alphonse only felt the darkness calling to her. She had been away from her warm nest for too long. She glanced at the tower one more time before slipping back into the safety of that velvet embrace. 

⥣          ⥣           ⥣

It had taken close to three weeks to get there, with these human bodies that could not run for hours and hours, but finally, they had found Aryus’s tower, if you could call it that. It was a red stone box, a tomb.

For such a strange God, they lacked creativity and vision.

“Esha’s tits,” Enyo complained. “It’s uglier than I remembered.” She paused to peer at it across the road. The area was empty. No humans clustered around as they used to, desperate to make good with Death.

“I think the idea was for it to be solemn. You know, for all the little mortals coming to pray for the souls of their dead.” Va'al yawned. “Of course, you’ve got no room to talk,” he told Maoz. “Isn’t your “temple” just a cave in the hills somewhere?”

Va'al’s temple was on an island in the middle of a saltwater lake, opulent and strange, as befitting a misfit God.

Maoz’s uninterested gaze flickered to Va'al, and he nodded confirmation. His “temple'' was indeed a collection of warrens in the hills east of the Enyo’s mountain ranges.

The Goddess rolled her eyes and scanned the front of the temple, what little she could make out from this great of a distance. Her mortal eyes, even enhanced through contact with her basin, were still so weak. They were two miles off, and she couldn’t see each stone in fine detail.

“Didn’t Aryus have some sort of… Hidden door or special code to enter? Don’t you remember them bragging about it?” she asked Va'al, not bothering to look at Moaz for reassurance. The beast didn’t care for Death. It wasn’t that they hadn’t gotten along, but Maoz had more to do with living life, and Aryus had more to do with after it.

What would the two of them even do together?

⚀

“Aryus bragging is sort of a stretch. More likely, they told everyone about it in the form of a joke or, I dunno, a rhyme.” Va'al peered at the temple as well, trying to remember, but—fuck it all— it’d been three hundred years. He was bound to forget a few details.

“Let’s just go check it out. See what we find.”

“We’ve been walking for hours. How can mortals stand this tedious boredom?”

“They don’t complain as much as you do. So it’s easier.” Maoz’s deep voice croaked, rusty from lack of use.

Enyo snarled and turned on the hunter, hands balling into fists. “What would you know of mortals?! Do you even talk to the females you fuck?”

“Not just females.” Grey eyes flickered to Va'al, and Enyo’s growl deepened.

That drew a snort of laughter out of Va'al. “True! Though, to be fair, you did think I was a female at the time.” It had been a great trick, getting Maoz to lie with him, and they’d both gotten a son out of it. Eifion. The shape-changer. He was wild and tricky in a way that still made Va'al proud. “After we get our bodies back, we’ll have to check on Eifion. And the others, for that matter.”

Enyo spun on her heel, rounding on Va'al. “So you wish to fuck the beast now?” The way her face was tightening and her eyes glinting, it was clear Enyo was in one of her moods. She wasn’t often jealous, except when it gave her an opportunity to be nasty or contrary.

Maoz made the coughing sound that they both knew was his form of laughing.

She launched herself at Maoz, and while he was fast enough to bring up his spear to block her,  she still was able to wrap her hands about the shaft and swing herself powerfully into his side. They both fell back with Enyo atop Maoz. She spat as she yanked his artifact away, tossing it to the side. She hauled her hand back with the ferocity of a bear and sank it into the other God’s throat.

He choked, sputtering, and his hands came up, much larger and stronger than Enyo’s mortal form, to wrap about her neck. She scrabbled for his eyes, hair flying back as she wrestled for the upper hand, and her face darkened from lack of air.

Va'al looked up at the sky and sighed.

Did this mean he was supposed to play nurse-maid? To step in and break up this little squabble before they

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