Morning came and rudely awakened Isaac as the sun shone right into the cave they were in. He sat up and yawned, looking around. Slate was fast asleep and snoring. Isaac quietly crept out of the cave, standing and surveying the surroundings in the light of dawn, unfurling a map.

  The Star Woods could barely be seen on the horizon to the north. Directly east, hard to see due to the rising sun, was the large river that crossed before the Riverrun Plains. Something caught Isaac’s attention though; the sound of tramping feet - armored boots pounding in synchronized patterns. A drum hammered out a beat. He stealthily made his way towards a higher vantage point in the rocks above the cave entrance and saw a large military force - easily fifty men strong - marching along the mountains. They appeared to stop at places and a detachment would leave for a short time before returning. An expedition? Are they after us? Isaac thought as he went back to the cave. He gently shook Slate.

  Slate yawned, "...What time is it?"

  Isaac shook his head, "Morning. Does Highpass have a standing army?"

  "No one does."

  Wasn’t he on a caravan from Highpass when we found him? Isaac shook away the thought, "There’s fifty armed and armored men approaching along the mountains."

  Slate bolted upright and poked his head out of the cave, "I don’t see them."

  Isaac got next to him and guided Slate up the rocks until they reached a vantage point - the armed force a half mile away. Slate reached into his satchel and pulled out a weird set of tubes that he put up to his eyes. "Red Sparrows. One of the largest mercenary companies." He glanced back at Isaac, "Standing armies haven’t ever existed in the Siltar Republic; except for Imperial Legions during the invasion. Everything is done through mercenary companies." He went back to looking through the tubes, "Judging from how they followed us, they must have been on retainer guarding the mines."

  Isaac went back to the cave and packed up the supplies, using his years of living in the wilds to cover up their tracks and signs of them ever having been there. He crept back up to Slate and joined him on his perch.

  "Should we just go right back to Bastion?" Isaac asked.

  "They know who I am. It’s only a matter of time until they put together the pieces - especially since the portals will be open soon...and my face is on the gates. Maybe not my best idea ever. But, notoriety does mean more followers."

  Isaac manifested his bow, "Do you want me to deal with them? I can drop quite a few before they know where we are."

  Slate shook his head, "Not yet." he continued to peer through the odd tubes.

  Isaac squatted down, "You’re not telling me something. When Vythin and I first met you, you were on a caravan going from Highpass to Oceanside. If you were banished, why were you coming from Highpass?"

  Slate sighed and looked over at Isaac, "My banishment was recent. Days before I became a god, recent. It’s only been a Season."

  "What did you do that made the whole town turn against you?"

  Slate squirmed uncomfortably for a moment before sitting down and speaking, "I...well, my Demon, maimed a man."

  "That’s it?"

  Slate covered his face with a hand and sighed. When he pulled his hand away Isaac saw remorse and guilt, "After he was maimed, the guards were called. Because I didn’t want my designs to be stolen, I had a safeguard in place that would break the machine beyond repair. I activated it, but one of my calculations must have been off. The blade flew off and killed seven miners." He looked up into the sky, "Gods, I wish I could take that whole day back. I’m not fully to blame - the initial malfunction led to the safeguard needing to be used. But ultimately the failure of engineering was of my own creation." He looked back at Isaac, "I was to be put to death. But in the prison cell, hours later - I became a god. I broke out with ease and fled; and through my power over knowledge, learned of my banishment and death sentence if I were to return. I was lucky a caravan was leaving that evening. I just called myself Professor and they took me along to keep the kids occupied."

  Isaac put a hand on his shoulder, "I’m sorry."

  Slate pushed his hand away and gave a slight smile, "No need for you to apologize. The mistake was mine." He glanced over the boulder he was seated behind, "I can guarantee that the Red Sparrows here were sent after me. That innkeeper must have put out the word on who I was, if the bloodthirsty crowd was anything to judge by."

  Isaac stood, "If they’re checking every cave we can easily outpace them. But we can also warp to another place."

  Slate shook his head, "No. I need to face this problem head-on." He stood up resolutely, "A show of force to let them know that I am not to be trifled with." He descended the small slope and began walking out into the open. Isaac followed, hauling their supplies.

  Off in the distance the two heard shouting as the armored troop advanced, closing to within shooting distance. A large man separated and walked close - one that Isaac recognized from back when they helped Slate leave the caravan. He stopped thirty feet away and crossed his arms, the same enormous sword slung across his back. "Well, well. I didn’t expect to see you again."

  Slate sighed, "Hanslow."

  The man laughed, the same guard that Isaac had seen at the tree house who mistook him and Vythin for a couple. "I figured you for someone running from their past; ever since the caravan you had a haunted look. Looks like it's finally caught up to you."

  "What do you want, Hanslow?" Isaac asked, anticipating the answer.

  Hanslow gripped his greatsword and unsheathed it from his back, the mammoth blade easily as tall as him; green with silver streaks. He planted its tip in the ground and leaned forward on the crossguard. "Well now, seeing as I’m leading a crew here, it would mean I got promoted. As such, I’ve gained my own command in the Red Sparrow’s. Me and my boys here were told to go find someone who looks juuuust like you."

  Slate spoke with authority and not a trace of fear could be heard in his voice, "You don’t know who you are messing with." He held a hand above his head and an enormous circle of fire appeared, "I’m no mere inventor, no mere teacher. I am a god. And you will carry this message to Highpass. Leave. Me. Alone."

  Hanslow laughed and snapped his fingers. Much to Isaac and Slate’s surprise the fiery sphere vanished. "You think you’re the only ones? I myself not two days ago became a god." He pulled his sword out of the ground and pointed it at Slate, his hand unnaturally still despite the size and obvious heft of the blade. "Hanslow Crackfist, god of fire, war, and blood." He grinned broadly.

  Slate cursed under his breath and turned to Isaac, "Gods who share an element of creation can cancel each other out. He can’t use fire on me, I can’t use fire on him."

  Isaac nodded and put his bow up, knocking an arrow of brilliant green. "Leave us be, or suffer the consequences."

  Hanslow let the tip of his sword dip down and snapped his fingers. Isaac felt something spray him as he looked over and saw Slate was suddenly gushing blood from his whole face as he crumpled to the ground and gasped in pain. Isaac turned and loosed the arrow, but Hanslow brought his sword up and deflected it. He began to slowly approach as Isaac loosed bolt after bolt. "You’re a weird one aren't you? You got something else running through you, no blood." He began to sprint towards Isaac, and Isaac felt the weird tingling of a Shard was nearby, confirming that this was a god bearing down on him.

  I’m not going to test myself in melee against a god of war. Isaac leaned down and grabbed Slate, channeling his heat as the two vanished.

  They reappeared in front of the gates of Bastion. Slate slowly sat up as the blood stopped pouring from him. Issac knelt down and pulled out a roll of clean linen from the pack, helping Slate clean off the vital fluid and check for wounds. Thankfully none were present.

  "That...was...unexpected," Slate said between puffs of air as he regained his composure.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  Isaac stood up, "They know who we are, the guy in charge is a god. This seems pretty bad."

  Slate spat out some blood and shakily stood to his feet, "The good news...I have a bunch of Peacekeepers, so his control over blood won’t be useful. He can’t easily attack Bastion."

  "He said I didn’t have blood."

  Slate shook his head, "You’re a god of forests - of plants. Your own being - under the surface - might be similar to Yvilli."

  Isaac pulled out his knife and with a sharp flash of pain cut across the top of his forearm. Thick, gooey yellow sap seeped from the wound. "I didn’t think I had changed that much," he muttered in disbelief as the sap hardened.

  Slate glanced over, "And suspicions confirmed." He stood straight and went towards the gates, pressing on them as they seemed to open to his will despite their impressive bulk, "Soon enough they’ll learn about where we are. We must make preparations."

  Isaac followed him inside and shut the gates behind. "Why would they bother?"

  Slate fell back to walk alongside Isaac, "They would bother because one of the workers was the son of the representative. Priam...poor young man. He was the one who lost his leg." He rubbed two fingers together, "In the Siltar Republic, you must remember that money speaks louder than anything. I’m sure that Representative Hillshorn is quite prosperous. And knowing the man he won’t stop until he knows I’m dead...And mercenary companies must fulfill their contract. If they don’t, no one will use them - and they disband. Bad for business."

  "Are you okay? You lost quite a bit of blood."

  Slate smiled, "Gods are made of hardy stuff. I’m hurt, but I’ll heal soon enough. It was quite painful though." He put a hand through his beard, "I’ll have to think of a way to prevent that from happening again."

  "What can I do to help prepare? I can’t really do anything with your golem...construct...things."

  Slate chuckled, "Are you able to summon an army of woodland critters to attack?" Slate held up his fingers like claws and pulled his lips back, "Say an army of vicious squirrels?"

  Isaac chuckled, "I haven’t tried."

  Slate rolled back his shoulders and continued towards the temple district, "Regardless, it will take them several days to reach Bastion. They can’t bring an army through the portals; my Titansteel Defender would easily be able to plug the gap due to the narrowness of the space. And even a god of war would struggle with a nigh-indestructible construct, I’d imagine."

  "So they’ll have to cross the Starfall Badlands."

  Slate smiled wickedly, "You’re a god of space. You could distort the area around Bastion; making every step taken require more."

  Isaac blinked, "I’m sorry, what?"

  Slate opened the door to his temple and turned to face him, "You are a god of space." He pulled out a sheet of parchment from a pouch, and extended it flat in his hands. "This is space; the distance between things." He pushed the two edges of the paper together, "You warp by instantly going from one place to another, effectively crossing the distance instantaneously - although you actually aren’t teleporting like a mage does. You literally change space itself and step through the gap - all in the blink of an eye."

  Isaac nodded, "Okay, but how does that help us defend Bastion?"

  Slate put the parchment away and pulled out some blob that he held in his palm, "Imagine that this is space." He then pulled the blob between his hands which stretched and became more translucent, "That’s what you’d do to the area around Bastion. You don’t crumple space making it smaller, you extend it."

  Isaac rubbed his chin, "Couldn’t I do the same thing here in the city? Make it larger than it really is?"

  Slate’s eyes sparkled for a moment with a sudden revelation and giggled with glee as he put the blob into a satchel, "I was thinking about how to expand the city should more people move here than expected." He clapped Isaac on both shoulders, "You’re brilliant! I was thinking of just building up higher, but you can make space larger within the walls of Bastion." His excitement settled rapidly as he looked into Isaac’s eyes, "One thing at a time though. Yes, you could, and if we need it you can damned well bet that we will be doing that. But for now, you can change the exterior space. I need to recall all of the Peacekeepers and outfit them for war." Slate shut the door to his temple and Isaac went to the center of the district - the large open space in between the six temples.

  Several smooth benches and tables were arranged in this central space, and Isaac slumped onto one of the benches.

  Fighting other gods...I wasn’t expecting that. He sighed and looked around the open space. And soon we will be busy. People from all across Heimfold coming and going. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, holding his head in his hands. What am I becoming? Less than a Season has passed since...this started. Things are changing so fast. He pulled back and looked at his arm; the wound completely sealed with just a small crust of dried sap on top to identify where it once was - but his skin was still skin. He scraped the dried fluid off. Even my body is changing...Am I still the same person? Isaac thought back to when he slaughtered the loggers with Slate. I’d only killed Willow’s father prior. I mean, I felt justified in the moment. But...did I go too far? Am I still...me? He channeled the heat in his torso and thought of Willow, feeling the blinding headache come as his vision went white.

  Once more Isaac stood in the large flower-filled field. He approached the small village hearing mirth and laughter. A feast was underway. Dancing, music, stories, games, and lots of food. Everyone was making merry, and he blended with the crowd, eventually finding Willow sitting with her family, laughing at a joke. She looked up and waved him over, patting a cushion next to her, "Come on Isaac!"

  He sat down and she grabbed his hand and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Is your friend okay? You left so last time."

  Isaac smiled, and squeezed her hand, "It’s fine." He looked around at the joyous celebration, "What’s the occasion?"

  Willow looked at him quizzically, "Don’t you know what day it is?" Isaac shook his head. "It’s the Feast of Fantasia!"

  Isaac shook his head and whispered to her, "It’s not Winds Season yet. We just hit Thawing Season back in Heimfold."

  Willow scrunched her face and nodded, whispering back, "This is Caeli’s afterlife; If I had a Season devoted to myself, I’d probably just have it over and over." She looked up at the sky, "It also explains why it hasn’t snowed since I’ve arrived." She raised her voice to a conversational level, "Everything is always perfect here!" Several nearby members of her family nodded or spoke in agreement with the statement.

  Isaac stood, "Can we go somewhere private? I need to ask you a few things." Willow nodded and stood. The two made their way out of the village and towards a copse of woods that stood nearby, seemingly arising from the field as they approached. They entered, and found a few fallen trees to sit on. Birds chirped in the canopy above and creatures of the forest came up to sit near them. Willow absent-mindendly scratched a deer behind the ears as it settled at her feet.

  "Am I still the same to you?" Isaac asked.

  "Well, before Caeli popped in last time you were here, you were a bit planty. But not anymore. She said she would do something about that part-"

  Isaac shook his head, "No. I didn’t mean physically. I mean, am I the same person you love?"

  Willow shook her head, "I don’t understand the question."

  Isaac looked deep into her eyes, "I’ve done things since you died, Willow. Not just your father." He looked down. "I didn’t just kill your father when he cursed you. After I left you...you as a tree...loggers came and cut you down." He closed his hand into a fist as he remembered that night, reliving the pain of loss for an instant. "I tracked them down and slaughtered them."

  Willow shifted taking a seat next to Isaac and put an arm around him, "You were doing it because you were hurt... I thought about what you said.... I was cursed for years. You never left my side." She put a hand on his knee, "Things are hazy, but I do remember some flashes here and there." She smiled, "You were ready to stay in that grove the rest of your life, weren’t you?"

  Isaac nodded and leaned onto her, "I’d do anything for you."

  Willow reached up and stroked his hair, "Then there’s nothing to be ashamed of."

  "I’m afraid, Willow. I’m afraid that being a god is changing me… I felt such anger. I killed your father out of necessity. He tried to curse me, and preservation kicked in." He grimaced, "I killed those loggers out of revenge. I finally had the power to return you to normal. I had someone who was smart enough to show me how. And when...and when I found out you were gone, I just lost it."

  Willow shushed him as she continued to stroke his hair, "You might be changing, but you’re still the man I love. You were ready to bring me back from death." She pulled away and looked him in the eyes, "Showing remorse tells me that you aren’t any different than you were before. We all make mistakes. And we all have regrets." She smiled, "But you can learn from those regrets. And you can make up for it by doing good for others."

  Isaac smiled and kissed her, "I swear you know me better than anyone else does."

  She stood up and dragged him along, "Come on. I’m making this official."

  Isaac followed behind her, "Making what official?"

  She looked back, "We’re getting married."

  The two returned to the village and Willow stood upon a table, announcing their union. There were cheers of celebration, even from Willow’s father, as one of the elders approached and bound their hands with a long green ribbon. The ceremony was concluded, and through the crowd Isaac glimpsed Caeli at the outskirts, giving him a wave and a thumbs up before vanishing. He spent the day and evening enjoying the festival before joining Willow in their cottage, the two falling into a deep sleep together.

  Isaac’s vision cleared and the white vanished as a metal construct pushed at him with a brush. Its head turned to him, "Please. Move. For. Cleaning." The golem spoke in terse words and a rasping voice. Isaac stood up and moved away feeling the pulsing headache instantly. The construct cleaned down the bench he was sitting on before moving onwards.

  The sky was dark and Isaac grinned, looking down to see a green ribbon wrapped around his left hand. Thanks, Caeli. He went to the front gate and climbed the stairs leading to the walls above, looking out at the land stretching for miles around, the dull thud of a star falling off in the distance every few minutes. Right then. A quick miracle, then I can go back. He raised his hands in front of him and exhaled, channeling the heat within him. Willing it to enforce his desires upon Creation. The green radiance brightened and spread from him in a nova which extended in all directions at a rapid pace, going along the walls and shooting across the ground several hundred feet beyond the city walls. The ground distorted and warped, seemingly stretching further away. Isaac felt a wave of lethargy sweep over him as he collapsed to a knee, breathing heavily as sweat poured off him. Well...I’ve done what I can.

  He slowly made his way back to the residence and went to his room, collapsing into bed and channeling his heat once more, the blinding headache returning as he found himself lying next to Willow. He stroked her hair and gave her a kiss on the cheek before falling asleep.