Alexander and I went swimming in the Spirit River. Energy and souls alike drifted by as we floated along, watching the turning of the Realms and traversing the entirety of the river. We started in the Heaven Realm.

  Much of the time we spent in comfortable silence. We watched as spirits of all kinds manipulated the energy already existing in the land itself or was produced by souls – many of whom didn’t even notice our presence – twisting it and putting it to work, following tributaries and creeks splitting off from the main River. We observed dark spirits, small things, not in service to the Shadow, as they milled about a village of elementals, feeding off of the negative emotions they produced, even as other spirits redirected or fed off of the more benign energies.

  Alexander pointed out a herd of spirit beasts as we drifted by, nearing the edge of the Heaven Realm and the barrier between realms. I drifted over to watch them with him. It was a herd of magical elk – moss hung from their fur and antlers, earth-attuned qi coursing through their veins. The leader was a majestic creature, with large, fourteen point antlers that had multicolored gems embedded into the bone. It glanced up at us as we passed, Alexander flashing his aura once to make himself known, and nodded his respect even if he couldn’t see us. He was an old, wise beast. A King amongst his kind, in spirit alone.

  “The spirit beasts could use a better guiding force.” Alexander said. “Actually, let me rephrase that – they could use a more suitable guiding hand. They are too easily manipulated.”

  I nodded my agreement. “That is an oversight on my part. I expected more souls like that one to have appeared amongst the beasts by now, or at least, quicker than they have been.” I indicated the bull elk as I said this; for its soul was wise and strong, indeed. There had been nothing that could twist and incentivize a beast to attack in great hordes the way the spirit beasts did, back in my old universe. I had not been expecting many of them to be so easily manipulated here…though part of the problem, I felt, was also the sapient spirit beasts and their ability to fairly easily direct the less intelligent ones.

  “I would not call it an oversight, simply unexpected.” Alexander reasoned. “I have considered asking Kei to aid me in this, however. It might do her some good to have some responsibility.”

  “You should tell her that.” I told him. “I know she would love to spend more time with her Uncle Alexander.”

  And we drifted along, simply enjoying the sights and life. Of all my children, Alexander was the easiest to do this with. Elvira and Keilan were too busy in their minds, Reika too busy in her heart. Only Alexander could consistently still himself enough to appreciate the Realms in a quiet, thoughtful way. It was an important thing to do, in my opinion. There was a beauty in stillness of body and soul, of simply letting the noise of creation wash over you.

  Spirits began to truly circle us as I stopped hiding the entirety of my presence, my comfortable aura drawing them toward us as they danced about in the river like little faeries. Alexander collected a little water spirit, an amused rumble echoing through him as it danced and played, only to flit away as we neared the barrier between realms. Most of the spirits stayed behind as we flowed through the greyish barrier of energy, a few souls entering the cycle of reincarnation, or spirits pushing energy along the river sticking through it.

  I hardly noticed the barrier anymore, in fact it couldn’t even be called a barrier at all to me, but weaker beings had trouble crossing the chaotic meeting place of the Realms. Nothing grew in this dense, energetic space, and though spirits and souls could fairly easily cross it with the aid of the river, in other places or for physical material it was…difficult, to say the least.

  Once in the physical realm, we drifted away from Pangaea. Individual streams in the spirit realm, tributaries and creeks, flowed to and from the myriad planets outside of the main hub of activity in the realm. Light flowed to and from the nigh-on a hundred suns in the Realm, circling Pangaea, and into each of the individual planets therein. Gas giants spun happily, nebulas swirled, and asteroids and comets hurtled through space. Mortals pranced about on habitable planets, some even containing only Avians, Fae, Elementals, or Karae, while darker spirits congregated on the non-habitable planets. Positive energy was more uncomfortable for them, so they tended to come together on darker, less energetically powerful planets, like Venus would have been.

  It was here we paused for a bit, and I showed Alexander how to make a sun. Stardust swirled together to ignite in my palm as I explained the process in detail, urging Alexander to do the same – he did not, of course, but that was to be expected. He would practice the method in his own time, in his own way, and would only show me once he had perfected it. We did, however, spend some time creating a few planets; I even caused a meteor filled with the stuff of life to crash onto one of the barren rocks, to jumpstart a more natural, non-enhanced evolution of life. There would have to be a more casual method of spreading life than me taking time out of my day to spread it to every sustainable planet, eventually.

  “The Realms are cramped,” Alexander murmured, staring at the stardust that pervaded the edges of the Physical Realm. “I can feel it in my bones. There are too many powerful beings, in too small a space. What else do you plan to do, besides create the Star?” I smiled and clasped my hands behind my back, watching the accelerated process of a solar system forming come into being before me.

  With my aid, it went far faster than it had any right to. Millions of years were condensed down into a fraction of the time – but it took power I should be saving to create the Star. I just needed to show Alexander this, for whatever reason.

  “You tell me,” I said softly, turning to my son. The great white dragon adopted a thoughtful look on his face, curling his great body up as he pondered the question. All at once it seemed to come to him, and he smiled at me.

  “Seeds.” He muttered. “You mentioned seeds, before. Could it be, perhaps, that you intend to spread the seeds of the Life-Giving Tree?” I nodded, making a motion with my hand that urged him to continue, to unravel what I knew he already suspected. He was the most observant of my children, after all. “Not just the Tree. You intend to spread seeds of the Mountain, the Valley, even the River.”

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  “Yes,” I said with a beaming smile. “Excellent as always, Alexander. The key features of the Realms are not as inanimate as their names may appear – each represents more than just a simple fixture, and each can be spread. The first ones will remain the biggest, the most eternal…but others will spread out, creating new Mountains and Valleys, Rivers and Trees, spreading outward and creating more space for all beings. A mountain range, a forest, the valleys between mountains, and the river connecting it all.” Though the addition of the karmic ocean, also known as the Sea of Memories, did put a bit of a twist on the imagery I had conjured, it still fit in my opinion.

  “And all will still be connected, though they may seem separate.” Alexander reasoned. I nodded my head. “Good. That is good. I cannot wait to see it, Father.”

  “See it? My dear boy, you and your siblings will be helping me with it,” I said. “It’s time you all started to take on some of the duties of creation, too. In fact, I believe it is overdue that you all explore that facet of your power. It is the next stage of your growth.” I told him, drifting along the River, heading to the Karmic Realm.

  “And the expansion of the Realms will give us all more room, for that growth.” He added.

  “For the amount of energy within the Realms now, it should be easily eight times bigger than it is. Such a small size is cramping and stunting all of our growths, and it cannot last. I get the feeling, though, that it will not be too much of an issue for too much longer…it will only take time to deal with.” I reasoned, scratching my chin and speeding up a bit. We’d spent less than a month of real-time doing this, but I was getting the itch to move, to do things. I could only put off what was coming for so long, and that time was fast approaching.

  Alexander followed me, though on our way, we passed by the land of Pangaea. In many ways it was still an odd thing to see, floating in the depths of space. A great chunk of land teeming with life, a massive tree growing from the center, with nothing but space and stars beyond. The Tree cast its shade over the land itself, but paradoxically did not block the light it needed from the Sun, reaching high up into the air as if to touch the Heaven Realm above while its roots stretched down, dangling as if to touch the Karmic.

  And we drifted on.

  Only once we reached the Karmic Realm did we break free from the River, diving into the Sea of Memories to take a look at that which was contained within. He showed me a number of his favorite memories, ones he’d stumbled upon in his time here in the Karmic Realm, deep beneath the surface of the ocean. There, in the black waters of the past, lay echoes of memories given momentary, physical form. A hut here, dilapidated and empty. A stone there, drifting down to the bottom…one that had long since been ground into dust by a flowing river.

  Alexander showed me a sunrise, flickering beneath the waves. The bright oranges and reds caught clouds in the sky of the planet Cradle, before any life had been brought there. No spirit, no life had born witness to it; but Alexander had. And he cherished that fleeting moment. I showed him the journey of a stone – it had tumbled all the way from the top of a mountain to the bottom of an ocean over the course of a millennium…the things that little pebble had seen.

  And so we explored, until, eventually, we pulled ourselves out of the past to sit upon a little sandy island, poking out of the Ocean. It would likely be washed away soon, time obliterating the memory it represented, only for it to resurface at another time and place. I built a fire, and made a pie. It was only then, in the comfortable silence that followed, that Alexander spoke about what troubled him.

  “I will not be introducing my People into the Four Realms until after this little spat of ours is over.” He rumbled. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, taking a bite of the fluffy pastry I had conjured. It was delicious, and sweet, the cherries within perfectly cooked, but just making one out of thin air didn’t have the satisfaction of making a pie from scratch. Perhaps I should do that soon, too.

  “Continue,” I urged him, through a mouthful of food. Alexander swallowed his own slice in one big gulp, too distracted to enjoy the sweet. Which, considering his sweet-tooth, said a lot.

  “I have mulled it over quite a bit. Perhaps it is selfish of me, but I cannot, in good conscience, introduce my People into a Realms assailed by discord. I will not create them in a time of war, for the sole purpose of containing that war.” He grumbled. “Elvira and Keilan have had this idea of an immortal people for some time, and while their intentions are noble, I will not follow that same path. I fear rushing my creations.”

  “There is wisdom in your words, Alexander.” I replied. “And I am sure your siblings will understand.”

  “Is it right, though?” he asked me, sounding well and truly worried. I sat back a bit, setting my pie to the side – it floated in the air beside me, so as not to get any sand from the island on it – and looked heavenward. “Am I being selfish? Should I create a People now, to aid my siblings in our cause? It is a fool question to ask you, after telling you to stay out of our fight, but I need advice, Father.”

  “Right is an insufficient word, for there is no ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ in this case.” I said, slowly. “And what is wrong with being a little selfish? Even we gods have to look out for ourselves sometimes. Both extreme ends of the spectrum – complete selfishness and complete selflessness – are harmful in their own ways. Your decision, Alexander, is made from the heart, out of care for your People’s future. I have faith that you will do what is best for yourself and your soon-to-be People – your doubt is a fleeting thing. Do not dwell upon it.” He hummed, tilting his head to gaze heavenward alongside me.

  “Thank you,” he said, after a moment. He settled into the sand after that, his doubts not gone, but eased by my words.

  “It is my pleasure, son.” I told him. We were silent for a moment longer before I stood, dusting off my robes and running a hand through my still-wet hair. The pie I had been eating vanished with a wave of my hand, and I stretched and yawned. Had it really only been a month or two since we started drifting through the Realms? We really had been going slow, but I had things to do. Most importantly, one thing. I could no longer put off amassing power for the Lunar Star.

  “I will take you to your mediation chambers,” Alexander said, rising to his full height, shaking droplets of water from his scales. I furrowed my brows and opened my mouth to ask how he knew that was where I was headed, but he quieted me with an amused look. “In many ways, you are predictable, Father. Your true body visited each of us in turn, giving us individual time with you. That usually means you are going to have to go into secluded meditation for a time, or have some work you need to focus your full attention on that will take a while.” I chuckled and scratched the back of my head awkwardly. Was I really now, so predictable?

  “One of these days,” I said, instead of confirming his accusation. “I would like to share with you some of my memories, of my past. Not now, but soon.”

  “I would like that very much, Father,” Alexander said with a bow of his head. I took the opportunity to lean forward and rub the base of his horns, where he liked it, and together we shot off into the sky, toward my palace.