Alexander floated beside me as I walked through the art-adorned halls of my palace, the god of fire and goddess of water clinging to his back like little monkeys. They had found him the moment we returned to my palace, having been doing something in my garden, and immediately latched onto him with happy cries. I could see the urge to chatter at him tugging at the two gods, but they respectfully remained quiet, letting Alexander and I finish our conversation.

  “Are you sure about what you must do next, Father?” Alexander asked.

  “Yes.” I said. “I must enter deep seclusion. Divine incarnations will be out and about as long as possible, but the Lunar Star must be created. They will likely be forced to disappear after a few thousand years once the power amassed becomes too great, and my full attention required. Much of their time, I suspect, will be spent creating more suns in the Physical Realm or guiding other gods on how to do so.”

  “I see...” he trailed off, the two little gods on his back listening intently. I smiled at the couple – funny how two seemingly opposite beings found love in one another. “We will take care of the Realms while you are away. Do not fear.”

  “I trust you all, even if I won't truly be 'away.'” I told him with a smile, then grew more serious. “The Shadow will make its move while I am secluded. Be careful with it. Sorry to jump right back into meditations right after I just came out, but…well. It must be done. Too much is driving me back into my meditations – I must see what my visions held, I must empower myself further…”

  “I know. The Enemy will not gain a single foothold in the Four Realms if I have anything to say about it.” Alexander rumbled firmly. I smiled at him, but did not correct him on his use of the word “enemy.” Part of me still struggled to believe the Shadow was an ‘enemy’ in the truest sense of the word; whose only goal was our total annihilation. Something about it felt…different. It surely had ill intentions, however there was something strange about what I could feel from said intentions. More than that, from its connection to me. Something I needed to clarify. Something tied to fate, and the word ‘Shadow.’

  Either way, though, it was causing problems and had to be stopped. Understanding its motives was important, but so was putting a stop to it.

  “I believe you,” I told him instead of voicing my doubts. “Now! Did your spirit friend find Gilles for me?” I'd asked him to find Gilles for me just before we returned to the palace together, and he'd promptly send one of the few spirits that hung around him running off in search of the shadow god.

  “Yes. He and Randus should be waiting for you in your meditation chambers.” Alexander said. "Will you be wanting me to soothe the stress fractures in the Realms, while you are busy?"

  "That would be a great help," I said, nodding. It was Alexander who was being stunted the most by the Four Realm's lack of size. He needed more room to swim. “As I have said, it won’t be for a while yet that those fractures start to really cause problems, but as the saying goes, the best time to plant a tree is twenty years ago. The second best time is now. I will plant the seeds of expansion now, so that when the Lunar Star is born the Realms will be more ready for the next stage. Until then I will mitigate things by creating more suns in the Physical Realm, and promoting the growth of the primordial chaos.” I said.

  “Then you had best get to it. Enjoy your nap, Father,” he said with a knowing smile. I slapped his side playfully, both knowing that my ‘naps’ were anything but, and he promptly raced off, back to his own ‘secret projects.’ The god of fire and goddess of water waved happily as they were carted off by Alexander, a gesture which I returned. Only when they were gone did I frown and speed up my pace to the meditation chamber, not quite willing to teleport as of yet.

  I had only told part of the truth to Alexander. In fact, none of my children, save Randus, were aware that one of the reasons I was going into secluded mediation was to force the Shadow’s hand. If anything had been revealed to me as of late, it was that the creation of the Lunar Star was a key event in the Shadow’s plans; the moment I created it, I would ‘win.’ It would take me another nine thousand or so years to amass the amount of power necessary, assuming I did little more than focus on just that. And while that might seem like a long time, the Four Realms was already millions of years old.

  Nine thousand years wasn’t much in comparison. The Shadow wasn’t ready for all-out war, which meant it would be forced to attack at a suboptimal time, and I was done playing games. It was time for the Shadow to step into the light and let me see it, whether it liked it or not.

  “Let’s get to it, then,” I muttered as the doors to my meditation chamber came into view. The great, grey stone doors were plain, lacking any adornment, and as they swung open they revealed a room that was much the same. Gilles stood within, the pale god of darkness and shadows studying where I sat, the grey stone transformed into a brilliant, shining shade of blue. “Gilles.” I said, startling the young man.

  He jumped and leapt away from the dais as if he had been doing something wrong.

  “Lady Matriarch,” Gilles said with a bow. Was that how he usually called me? I get called so many things I get confused. Father or Mother works best for me, but Matriarch or Patriarch, I suppose, does work. At least it’s better than Your Majesty.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Did you bring what I asked?” I asked, stepping into the chamber.

  “I did. Here,” he said, holding out his hand. Contained in a small glass vial imbued with his divine power was a million tiny void shards, sitting together like grains of black sand. I made a grasping motion with my hand, the vial flying over to land in my palm where I could observe it closer.

  Yes. This should do nicely.

  “Thank you, Gilles. What have you done with the rest of the shards?” I asked.

  “I’ve been researching them.” He said, avoiding meeting my eyes, once again as if he was hiding something. I raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to continue. After a moment he cleared his throat, slicking his greasy black hair back with one hand and shifting from foot to foot nervously. “I’ve been studying their interaction with the material and immaterial world. That the Enemy is using the Void as a method to hide itself suggests there is more to its existence than simply to be an anathema to creation. The Void can be used in different ways, the specifics onto how, however, elude me for the moment.”

  “Very astute, and in line with what I have been able to discover,” I praised. “But be careful. The Void can be corruptive. The rogue spirit that attacked, for example, was twisted by the solitude of the Void; it can drive one mad. You should talk with others about this occasionally. Perhaps Keilan. Or Elvira, or even your brother, Sol.” I mused, scratching my chin.

  “I, uh, I will. Be careful, I mean,” Gilles said with another soft bow. “If I may ask, what are you going to do with those?” he gestured to the shards in my hand, and I smiled, popping open the lid.

  “This.” And I promptly downed the entire bottle, bits and pieces of Void swirling about within my stomach. My power wrapped itself around each individual piece, keeping them separated and preventing them from doing any harm to my internals. As my body was also my soul, flesh and soul merged into one cohesive being, I had finer control over the shards when they were within my body than without. It would be necessary for what I had in mind. Gilles gaped, and I smirked. “That will be all, Gilles. Thank you,”

  “Yes, Honored Matriarch,” he said, and promptly teleported away. I stood in silence for a moment, waiting for my silent observer to reveal himself, but impatience won out.

  “Randus.” The butler-god of Dreams appeared at his name, bowing and with both a bottle of whiskey and pot of steaming tea at the ready. I smiled gratefully at him, but now was not the time, much as I wished it was. “Keep track of the dreams. You may not have the raw power of many of the other gods, but your specialty does not lie there.”

  “I know, Ma’am. You needn’t worry. Would you like me to leave these here?” Randus asked, gesturing to the bottles. I shook my head.

  “No, thank you. I fear I will not have the chance to enjoy them.” I said. Randus nodded, bowing deeper and dropping the drinks back into dreamland.

  “I will keep watch. No one will disturb you.” He said, and promptly marched out of the room, the doors slamming shut behind him.

  That’s not what I’m worried about, I thought with a heavy sigh, feeling the runes carved inside of the stone coming to life. Formations divine in nature ignited across the entirety of the room, keeping my power trapped within and preventing others from entering. Space and time itself were locked down in here; only I had the ability to freely move in and out. Here, I could meditate in peace. Here, I would work in secret.

  With that in mind I sat cross-legged on my stone pedestal, evening my breath and closing my eyes. The void shards remained separated for now, but once I had a clearer idea of what I needed I would forge them to suit my purposes. But for now, they had to wait. Pieces of my divine power splintered off at my will, incarnation spreading through the Four Realms to do my work.

  They were limited in power, but clear in their purposes.

  “Alright, Fate.” I muttered. “It’s just you and me now. Show me what you’ve got.”

  In the first thousand years, I meditated. My incarnations ran amok; creating suns in the physical realm and teaching various gods how to do the same; nurturing seeds in the iconic features of the Realms, the holy mountain, the life-giving tree, the karmic valley, and the spirit river; nurturing mortals and guiding my angels; soothing stress cracks, and a thousand other major and minor issues.

  In the second thousand, my mind started to drift, Fate revealing itself to me in cryptic tones. Not once did I look into my own fate, for only a fool claims to know their own fate, even if that being is a god. Instead I looked at others, and the nature of fate as a rule. Keilan helped me quite a bit with this, unaware though he was of this fact. And many things began to reveal themselves to me.

  In the third thousand, I recalled all my divine incarnations save five.

  In the fourth, the last of my incarnations vanished, and I sunk deep into my meditations and power-gathering.

  My will noticed the shadow moving, now, desperately rushing to build up its forces while my children did the same. But it was only one being compared to the entire might of the divinities within the Four Realms. Though the Shadow had more time to prepare, the big four would be ready for it.

  More time passed, and I came to a realization. The future of the eight pillars laid itself out for me, each slot that needed filling sitting clear as day before my eyes. What was once a hint of an idea, a vision of the future, was now far more solid – and this war provided an opportunity for certain souls to grow, gathering the potential to fill these slots. Though that is all it was; potential, and many things would stand in the way of such a fate. Ironically, blocked by the fate of another.

  Fate and destiny were odd things, it seemed. They were ephemeral and nebulous, more a result of one’s own decisions than some grand design of my own making. In fact I had very little hand in “deciding” someone’s fate because of this fact, only giving a hand here and there where it was needed. As such it could be changed, for nothing was written in stone.

  Heat blossomed in my chest, radiating from me as my will took hold of the void shards floating within, forcing them together. My heart was the fire, filling it with passion. My soul was the forge, containing the heat, directing it to the shards. And my will was the hammer, beating them into place. Fate guided my hand. Balance drove my actions. That which I had to make formed within the depths of my soul, imbued with the powers of the void, and my own essence.

  And, satisfied, I fell once more into the depths of my meditations, watching, amassing power, the depths of which strained against the fabric of my being, uncontrolled and uncontained. There would be a time to intervene. I could feel it in my bones. But it had to be perfect. So I waited.

  I waited to hear the call of war.