At the outskirts of Corinth, Ebonheim sat opposite Xellos within his hollowed-out stone abode. Her elbows rested on the table where they were seated, her fingers idly weaving through the locks of her iridescent silver hair while her chin perched atop her palms.

  After hearing her tale detailing what she and the other gods encountered during their journey inside the fractal realms, Xellos tapped his fingers together with a pensive expression etched upon his features. This thoughtful pose persisted even after Ebonheim finished recounting her part in the story.

  He murmured almost to himself. "So, it seems like beings other than gods are able to enter the sanctum freely without consequences now. Assuming the robed figure was not a god itself. Which makes me wonder... Are more of these beings going to target us?"

  "Who knows. Didn't seem benevolent nor malevolent, even," Ebonheim replied with a shrug. "I'd rather not ponder on hypotheticals too deeply right now. My mind's a little worn down from overthinking things recently. Is the lost Quintessence returning already?"

  "I haven't tried ascending during the period when the conduit was active, so I can't say," Xellos admitted. "How about you?"

  Ebonheim paused.

  She couldn't just admit that she hadn't been affected like everyone else had. Her eyes fell away and instead followed the motion of her fingers raking through her hair.

  "Well... About that... I had... different concerns," Ebonheim answered vaguely, dancing around the issue. "I've been spending Quintessence regularly at the Divine Auction, so I don't gain enough surplus to ascend. Haven't needed to. My neck of the woods had been relatively peaceful."

  Sure, she could have just lied and she had regained the lost Quintessence, but the other gods saw that none came to her after the conduit's deactivation. Perhaps she could have blamed it on her damaged suit for impeding the flow or something or other. Instead, her usual hesitation took hold of her speech and muddled her response into obscurity.

  Xellos hummed with a pensive expression. "It's quite convenient we even got that matter solved rather quickly. You must have been very lucky to avoid getting destroyed during your time there. If I had been there instead, well..." He trailed off for a moment before continuing. "Well, let's just say I probably wouldn't have made it."

  Luck? Pshh, luck had nothing to do with this. Although, he wasn't entirely wrong. Still, Ebonheim merely shrugged. She didn't correct him or elaborate on her exact feelings on the matter.

  "I'm glad to be back," she eventually said. "Things got hairy a few times inside the fractal dimension. Much too close for my own comfort. But anyway, I wanted to come by to report on the matter."

  As much as the other gods seemed to dislike Xellos, she couldn't leave him out of the loop when he was willing to cooperate and give useful information on the matter. Besides, he was now the patron god of this neighboring settlement after all. No reason to give him the cold shoulder.

  "Do you reckon others like that anomaly might try to breach the Sanctum again?" Xellos queried, tilting his head.

  "No clue." Ebonheim shook her head. "Aetheron seemed satisfied with the seal placed over the portal. Could there be more, though? Couldn't tell you. This would be something to ask him."

  Her statement flowed better than the meandering direction the conversation was taking earlier.

  Good. Glad to get my brain focused properly again on the here and now.

  "Well then, while you're here..." Xellos rummaged through a satchel beside his bed before returning with a small bundle wrapped in cloth. He laid the package carefully down upon the table between them.

  "A small gift," he announced before undoing the bindings to reveal an ornate bracelet adorned with engravings depicting each of the cardinal elements. Its metalwork shone with a lustrous glow as if freshly polished. "The least I can do to repay your aid rendered in our dire times. The wearer would find their inner attributes enhanced slightly."

  Ebonheim's eyebrows knit together. "Uh... Xellos, you really don't have to. There's no obligation whatsoever to offer something to me for merely doing my duty."

  "If not 'duty,' then at least consider it as a gesture of appreciation." Xellos slid the item across the table surface toward her. "I apologize for not having more to give, but I cannot be so free with my own Quintessence right now, you understand?"

  "...Alright." She reached out and plucked up the offered accessory. It didn't quite suit her current attire, but she didn't mind adding accessories to her wardrobe. She'll try it on later.

  With that, Ebonheim stood up. "Well, I guess we're done here then. See ya, Xellos."

  Without further ado, she pushed open the door to the hollowed-out room, letting in streams of morning sunlight through the opening.

  "Farewell, friend."

  Something in the way he uttered the last word made her halt mid-stride. Yet she quickly brushed off the sensation prickling at her thoughts and continued on her way back to her town.

  ***

  22nd of Dayhelm, 1344

  Her duties might involve acting as an arbiter during her people's quarrels and resolving their problems, but all those minor issues had already been cleared off her plate this morning. Sometimes Ebonheim wondered if her mere presence was a significant deterrent towards trouble in town, or whether people were just becoming more wise in their day-to-day interactions.

  Still, there were more pressing matters for her to deal with. It had nothing to do with the politics regarding other settlements, nor any concerning weather phenomena they were dealing with. Indeed, her primary concern lay with the piece of jewelry dangling on her wrist: a modest yet opulent bracelet that Xellos had gifted to her earlier.

  It hung heavy upon her slender form, its silver chains twinkling against even the dimmest lights. Yet it was not its mere presence nor its presumed divine nature causing such unease within her—instead, her apprehension arose from her inability to discern its nature entirely.

  Even the Akashic System wasn't forthcoming when she asked for details. Aside from enhancing some of her attributes by a small margin, there was seemingly nothing else to gain from wearing it.

  Sitting under the shade of a leafy canopy, her brows furrowed over eyes intent on scrutinizing every nook and cranny of this ornamented armlet. She knew without a doubt she could just go and visit him to ask about its particular nature and any possible side effects, but deep within the recesses of her mind lingered an instinctual wariness against directly seeking out advice from a god whose intentions remained... nebulous at best.

  The other gifts he had provided her in the past had shown no nefarious effects or strange surprises. Rather, their simplistic natures made them all the more harder to dismiss without genuine cause.

  True, she had been an advocate for his goodwill in the past despite being scorned by most of the other gods, and he had gone far to prove himself trustworthy to mortals—he did achieve his goal of becoming the patron deity of the neighboring settlement, after all—but even so, sometimes his presence just unnerved her.

  Why? Ebonheim couldn't explain why even to herself, other than just going off the gut feeling that something wasn't quite right. So she had been carrying a wariness for Xellos inside her heart as well.

  But for now, it was only right that she gave him the benefit of the doubt. After all, suspicion only breeds mistrust among allies, and that was the last thing she wanted from any kind of relationship between two gods—especially ones overseeing two close settlements in proximity to each other.

  His gift would just have to sit in a corner until further notice, hidden away to rest on a dusty shelf in the recesses of her abode.

  She sighed and pushed herself upright, rising to her feet. Placing the piece of ornamentation in her storage dimension, she paced out of the woods and back onto the trails towards the center of town.

  As her purposeful steps carried her forward, her mind gradually shifted focus to an upcoming event: the commemorative festival celebrating the founding of Ebonheim. With the grand day nearly at hand, most preparations had already concluded, leaving her with little else to do other than oversee final arrangements and supervise last-minute details—all standard procedures conducted under her watchful eye year in and year out.

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  Last year's, being the tenth anniversary of the town's founding, had been quite elaborate and fun for all. After reaching this milestone, she had come to the conclusion that it would probably be best to drop the festival's frequency to once every five years. But most of the elders in the council insisted on making the festival an annual event until the twentieth anniversary, at which point the schedule she proposed would work.

  So with that agreement, she let the plans remain unchanged for now.

  Not that Ebonheim minded hosting these jubilations yearly. She was never the type to shy away from making merry among her people. These festivities uplifted their spirits, as they shared laughter and bonded over songs and dances, rekindling friendships old and forging bonds anew.

  The heartwarming smiles on everyone's faces throughout the town made these celebrations worth every effort. She cherished the joy of those under her divine care, the genuine connections made, the familial closeness grown and fostered, all filled her own heart with such profound fulfillment.

  At times, she had to wonder whether other gods delighted in festivities of their own or in their own peoples' enjoyment as deeply as Ebonheim did. Her mind wandered off at the thought, sending her spiraling into a pool of idle musings for a moment before pulling herself back to reality with a tiny shake of her head.

  Enough daydreaming; back to the matter at hand.

  As she made her way through the bustle of the town square, she spotted Thorsten and Serrandyl having a friendly argument about something or other—whatever they could squabble about so early in the morning. Nothing too unusual between those two.

  Well, ever since the two had become a pair—thanks to her gentle and, dare she say, godly push—those banters and back-and-forths have taken on a new dynamic.

  And the townsfolk appeared to have noticed the change as well, evident from the knowing winks, raised brows, and the occasional sidelong glance whenever they passed by them. To their credit, neither seemed the least bit bothered about their public displays of affection—or perhaps they were so caught in the moment that they hardly paid attention.

  An impish grin curled on the corners of her lips at that sight. They did say love turned people blind after all.

  Once those two were within an arm's reach, Ebonheim playfully swept past, briefly hovering her hand over Serrandyl's shoulder.

  "Enjoying the morning air?" she asked teasingly without stopping. "I see you guys have nothing planned at the moment. Could you come by the shrine a little later? Got something I need you two to assist me with."

  "Oy, at least gimme a warning before ya appear outta nowhere!" Thorsten protested, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Mornin' to you too, lassie! We'll swing by a bit later in a few!"

  Thorsten then proceeded to swat away Serrandyl's prodding finger. "—Hey, quit yanking my beard! Yer ruinin' the braids, dammit!"

  Serrandyl paid his half-hearted complaint no heed, her soft laughter echoing in the morning breeze.

  Ebonheim nodded, smiling back at them.

  With that, she sauntered through the cobblestone paths with her heart feeling somewhat lighter after witnessing such an endearing sight. If only every day could start like this, indeed.

  She arrived at her cabin nestled among the trees without further ado, pausing to absorb in the calm quietude under the leafy canopies surrounding her humble abode. The light trickling of a stream flowing nearby added a soothing note to the pastoral scene before her, and she allowed herself another moment of peace before heading inside her sanctum.

  The heated exchange between Evelyne and Th'maine happening in her lounge almost caused her to topple over.

  Almost. Somehow, Ebonheim managed to right herself and sidle off to the side.

  "...wouldn't have happened if you had taken time to learn to use the tools," Evelyne argued, her fingers clenching the air. "Every Arcanist who does that ends up saving so much time rather than trying to do the same things with spells. Instead of acting all wise, do a little work yourself too, you old coot."

  "How foolish. How dare you say such words to a master Arcanist," Th'maine retorted, his eyes narrowing. "Have you already forgotten what I taught you back then? One must first master the Arcane. True progress lies in honing your own spellcraft until you can enact the processes yourself! None of these magical contraptions which merely dampen your expertise in exchange for convenience. Nay, technology cheapens magic!"

  "You have always been too puritanical, master," Evelyne replied, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "Technology simply bolsters and enhances magic. No more, no less. Even the Magisterium has endorsed them, and I believe they have better judgment than you in this matter."

  At this point, Ebonheim was sure these two were no longer speaking the common tongue.

  More importantly, though... Why did they have to carry out their debate inside her cabin of all places? What had her place become, anyway? Some sort of public venue for her own people? Not that she really minded much, but still...

  Since neither seemed to notice her, Ebonheim gingerly backed away from the scene, creeping past them. No sense in breaking their heated discourse. Those two were known to clash heads now and then over various magical and technical subjects, as any master and former student might.

  But she knew these verbal spars didn't truly hurt their bond—Evelyne did respect Th'maine still after all. She was never one to mince words when dealing with anyone, whether they be a friend or foe or a neutral acquaintance.

  Hopefully, their discussion will take a peaceful turn soon. Otherwise, she might have to put her proverbial foot down for the day if things got out of hand again.

  Retreating back outside, she found herself gazing at the crisp blue sky, enjoying the touch of the morning breeze dancing in her silver hair as she leaned against the wall and slid onto her rear.

  Even from a distance, snippets of their talk still drifted back to her, audible enough to discern but not too loud to constitute a disturbance. Yes, they still seemed to be going at it tooth and nail. Surely they'll tire themselves out after a while.

  It took an hour until the former student and master emerged, looking rather haggard yet contented in their own ways. As Evelyne passed by her, Ebonheim couldn't help but stifle a giggle at her disheveled appearance.

  Tsk, tsk. Really. She should take better care of her appearance since she was still a very pretty lass who shouldn't be missing out on suitors otherwise!

  Th'maine, on the other hand, wore a triumphant gleam in his eyes and a winning smirk on his face as though he had successfully shut down all of her arguments. That would only last for a moment, of course; the following day the two would rehash the same debate again, arguing the exact points Ebonheim had heard today, word for word.

  Truly the never-ending circle of life.

  Evelyne rushed to her side and wrapped her arms around Ebonheim in an embrace, bringing their faces close together.

  "Ma déesse! Thank goodness you came to rescue me from his droning! I have longed to have a word with you, but this old man would not cease talking!"

  Ah, so that was what took them an hour. This might explain his smug victory smirk earlier.

  Ebonheim giggled once more before giving her a gentle squeeze.

  "There, there," she reassured her with a soft pat on her back. "Don't let him rile you up too much. The stress isn't good for you, anyway."

  Evelyne blew a stray strand of hair off her brow. "Trust me, I tried keeping my composure... But he kept prodding on with such deliberately one-sided 'facts'! The nerve of this codger!"

  Th'maine crossed his arms, unimpressed by Evelyne's accusation.

  "All baseless accusations," he said. "Baseless and inflammatory. For shame, an Arcanist like you resorting to ad hominem attacks. And you accuse me of puritanical ideals? Perish the thought." He even gave a small derisive scoff at the end of his rant.

  Now this was not going to do at all. Better rein in these two before they really started arguing over personal matters. Ebonheim cleared her throat to garner their attention.

  "Err, anyways... Why were you two in my cabin?" she queried, fixing them each with a curious, inquisitive stare, her golden eyes moving between Th'maine and Evelyne.

  "He intruded without permission while I was cleaning," Evelyne shot back, clearly not caring for niceties nor manners. "Then he took your sitting room hostage for his ramblings on ancient lore and arcane history. This one here" —she jabbed a finger at Th'maine's direction— "refused to cease until we had hashed out our old debates on magic and technology yet again. As per usual."

  "Hah. Cleaning?" Th'maine jabbed back, though there wasn't as much venom as one would expect. "Your device had done the dirty work and left you standing at the side twiddling your thumbs, eh? So you were merely skulking about here not doing anything else." He stroked his long beard, adopting a sagely air. "One would call your actions... loitering."

  Ah. Ebonheim saw how things came to a head now. At least part of the picture.

  Truly the never-ending circle of life, part two. There will likely be no winners here.

  She decided to diffuse the tension once again. "Anyway, I take it you both had something to ask me before the, uh, debate? And please don't tell me you only came here to pass the time."

  "I had something to ask, but since I've had my question answered in your stead by this old man..." Evelyne trailed off and instead glared at Th'maine, who merely returned a complacent chuckle. "I will return to my workshop now, ma déesse. Please enjoy the rest of your day. I'll leave you in his care."

  She gave a slight curtsy before turning and taking her leave in a single fluid motion.

  As Evelyne's figure faded away into the distance, Ebonheim's attention turned towards the old Arcanist still loitering about her house, whose gaze continued to follow Evelyne's wake with a fond, amused expression playing upon his lined visage. When his eyes eventually drifted back to her again, she tilted her head slightly and arched a brow. "And you?"

  A pause lingered in the air between them for a few heartbeats until Th'maine responded.

  "Hm. There's much on my mind right now, which I should discuss in detail with you. A matter relating to... you-know-what," he said, tapping his forehead knowingly.

  Of course. What else could it be?

  His obsession with the Akashic System hadn't ceased for a moment since they first conversed about it in depth. No doubt he still pursued his lofty goals of piercing the mysteries of this divine system. Ebonheim should have guessed what he wanted straight away.

  She let out a resigned sigh before gesturing for him to enter. "Fine. Let's continue this inside. But first, let me brew some tea for the both of us. Sounds good?"

  A toothy smile answered her. "Capital idea. While we're at it, I'd like to hear about your latest adventure with the celestial realm."