Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Her eyes opened.

The world before her was awash with crimson and blood.

She was tired, exhausted, and confused. Curled up on the soft, sandy earth, small thoughts began to sprout in her mind. What was going on?

"Hello, my dearest Kusanali,” a kind voice whispered in her mind. “Happy birthday.”

Kusanali dizzily pushed the ground and sat up. The sand beneath her was pale and lifeless. The skies above looked as if blood was crushed into paint and coated over it, an oppressive heat emanated from the everywhere around her, and she couldn't see anyone for miles. Her heart pounded, and she felt scared. But the voice... It was soothing. She took a shaky breath and tried to calm her heart.

“H-Hello,” she whispered back. Kusanali swallowed nervously. "Is today actually my... birthday...?" She didn't know why she felt disappointed about that. Why did she feel like she wasn't supposed to be alone? Would she hurt the voice's feelings if she told it that?

"Do not fret, my child,” the voice comforted her. “It is. You are in Sumeru, and you are safe.  Just sit tight. Aid is coming, and you won't be here for long. I promise: everything will be okay.”

She nodded, and sniffed. Although she couldn't see anyone around her, she at least didn't feel alone.

Kusanali crossed her legs, and started playing with the grey sand surrounding her. It was soft, dry, and left her with a slight chill. She doodled swirls on it, humming to herself.

Time flew by. She could not tell how much had passed exactly, but it was enough that the skies started to swathe themselves in a dark grey.

Shivering, she wondered if she would have to stay here alone for the rest of the night. She hoped not. It was getting colder, and she saw scary-looking shadows move around in the distance. The light in the sky kept dimming, and threadbare clouds began to lazily cover it (she wished they would come down and cover her instead).

The voice spoke in her mind again. "They've arrived, Kusanali. Please stay safe."

(Did she imagine it, or did the voice sound hurt, and sad? Kusanali didn’t want it to be sad.)

She looked over her shoulder, and a group of five adults in identical robes were approaching in her direction. She smoothed over her drawings on the ground and spun around to face them.

Even from a distance, they were towering over her. Some looked relieved to see her. Others hesitant. They called out a name that she had never heard before (but sounded awfully familiar). Rukkhadevata.

As they came closer, they seemed to realize that she wasn't the one they were looking out for. Their calls quieted, and she saw them talking amongst themselves.

“Little one, do you know where Lord Rukkhadevata is?” one of the men asked. He had a scraggly beard and glasses covered in dust. “We received a message that she would be nearby.”

Kusanali shook her head. Goosebumps prickled her skin.

Some of the adults walked closer towards her, hesitant. Their eyes looked at her like they were trying to dissect her.

“Sir, I think this is some type of version of our Archon,” one man said. He had a shiny jewel dangling from his ear, and Kusanali had the urge to touch it. It looked like it would be smooth and cool to the touch. But she had a feeling that even if she could reach it, the person wouldn't like that very much. “Look at her closely. She looks just like our Lord, but… smaller. Younger. We have records that Lord Rukkhadevata had transformed like this in the past when she had expended her energy to save Sumeru from prior calamities.”

“So it would seem,” the man with glasses hummed. He crouched down in front of Kusanali and gently clasped her hands, yet his eyes stared jaggedly into hers. “Your humble servants thank you for your service, O Lord.”

“I- I’m not -” her voice shook. But she felt the voice she heard earlier wrap her with a small amount of warmth and strength. She calmed down a bit. “My name is Kusanali. I’m not an... Archon. Or at least, I don't think I am? And I'm sorry, but I don't know who Rukkhadevata is either.”

The large, calloused hands crushed her smaller ones, and the regret of speaking up choked at her. It hurt and she wanted it to stop, but all she could do in protest was smudge her vision with tears.

“Sir, treat her carefully,” a man behind her said, sounding nervous. “The child may not have any power, but she’s still the Dendro Archon.”

The hands loosened slightly, but the infuriated expression on the man with the glasses’ face didn’t soften. “You’re right. I apologize.”

He let go of her left wrist (without loosening his grip on her right), and moved his hand towards her neck. He traced his index finger just underneath Kusanali’s collarbone. She squirmed, uncomfortable with the contact.

Her lungs burst into flame when the man with the glasses plunged his hand into her chest without warning, and Kusanali couldn’t breathe. Crying out, she tried to push the man away. But she couldn't. She was too small. Salt flooded her vision and gravel shook in her throat.

Shouts echoed around her. Kusanali wasn’t sure if she was imagining that some of them sounded as pained as she felt.

The invasive hand yanked itself out of her torso, and she fell forward, gasping. The yelling continued on. She shook as the world spun around her.

“So this is what a Gnosis feels like,” the man with glasses murmured. He stood, and ripped her arm upwards as he did so. Kusanali stumbled to her feet, hollow and staggering. “Seeing as our Archon is currently incapacitated at the moment, it is the responsibility of the Grand Sage to handle their affairs in her… absence. I will be responsible for guarding this Gnosis for the time being. Understood?”

A few of the men began to argue with him, but the one with glasses held his free hand up, demanding silence.

Their protests quieted.

"This decision is not one I will negotiate on. Sumeru is in a delicate state, and having an ignorant child lead us will spell nothing but our doom. Now, are we in agreement?"

Solemnly, pliantly, the rest of the adults nodded their heads.

Kusanali felt a tsunami of dread crash into her.

The walk towards Sumeru City was a woeful one. The place where her heart was had stopped hurting a while ago, but it still felt empty. She felt like she had lost something important.

On top of that, Kusanali’s left shoulder and feet were hurting. Unlike the men surrounding her, she didn’t have anything to cover her feet (the voice in her head apologized for not making her proper footwear), so her soles kept getting cut as they traversed the ravaged terrain. The Grand Sage hadn’t let go of her wrist since they stood up, and he didn’t seem to care that her left shoulder was being yanked out of her socket with every swing of his arms.

Kusanali tried to get the attention of the men around her to no avail. They avoided looking at her, and many of them seemed to be lost in thought.

What would become of her from now on? They said she was an “Archon”, but what did that even mean? She felt so small and insignificant, and almost wished that the men hadn’t found her.

She wiped away a few stray tears with her free hand. The voice she heard earlier said she would be safe. Kusanali had to trust them.

They kept walking, and the pale sand began to shift into deadened grass. In the distance, she saw a bunch of stony buildings surrounded by lifeless foliage. 

They got closer to the city, and they began to see more and more people. But something felt wrong. The people she saw were injured and scattered everywhere. They had varying expressions of shock, dismay, and pain. Several were crying out for others, and although she saw that a lot of them were actively looking around, many weren't. She hoped they could find the ones they were missing. (But deep down, she knew that it wouldn't be possible.)

Kusanali stepped a bit closer to the Grand Sage, and tucked her arm in front of her. A wave of nervousness and unease wrapped around her.

Just up ahead, a man wearing a blue thobe spotted them, relief washing over his expression. “Everyone, look! Grand Sage Pezhman is back with the others, and with our Archon! They’ve returned!”

Several of the people around them turned in their direction, a glimmer of hope in their eyes. Kusanali looked down. Murmurs shot like lightning through the crowds.

"Lord Rukkhadevata! Where is she?"

"Is the war over?"

"Rukkhadevata was never that small… What happened? Wasn’t she with the Hydro Archon?"

They kept walking through the city, and the ground turned from dirt to paved stone. It was cracked in a lot of parts. She tried not to think about what the reddish brown muck on the ground was.

The Grand Sage’s hand around her wrist abruptly tightened, and he stopped in harshly his tracks. Kusanali stumbled to a stop, nearly tripping and falling on her face.

Nervously, she looked up at the people around her.

The emotions on their faces were almost indecipherable to her. She could tell that they were sad and pained, but she didn’t know why. Were their expressions of sadness directed at her? Why did she sense that they were angry? Was it something she did...?

Why is everyone looking at her and expecting "Rukkhadevata" to take her place?

“The people of Sumeru,” Grand Sage Pezhman said, his voice steely, “Our Lord Rukkhadevata has fallen. In her place is a new Lesser Lord, who goes by Kusanali. Seeing that she is quite young, the sages and I will act as our Archon’s regents. If any of Sumeru’s citizens have any concerns, you are free to stop by the Scribe’s office while we work through these hard times.”

The murmurs around them quieted to a hush. Their voices were leaves rustling in the wind. All around her were faces mournful, and dozens were crying.

"Please don't look at me like that!" she wanted to shout out. "I don't know how I can help, or where your Rukkhadevata is!"

Instead, Kusanali tucked the arm in front of her closer, trying to suppress the shivers and the tears and the feeling of uselessness that engulfed her.

The Grand Sage tugged her arm forward, this time a little more gently. Kusanali couldn’t stop looking at the faces around her as they walked through the city. They passed by weeping foliage and people, and she couldn't help but feel like it was somehow her fault.

The people around her wouldn’t be crying if the Sages announced that Rukkhadevata was alive and well. They wouldn’t have cried if she wasn't here.

The voice from earlier whispered in her head, with a tone of urgency and grief, "That’s not at all true, little one. This isn’t your fault. I promise you."

Kusanali sniffled, and her eyes became awash with tears again. She wondered how she still had enough water left to cry. She wondered when she would stop.

The sages kept walking beside her, and they passed over several stone paths, passed by more people, and continuing to walk up, and up, and up. They eventually made it to a large set of stone doors that creaked loudly when they opened, and they all walked inside.

The room beyond the stone doors was enormous, viridescent, and hollow. The bridges leading to the center were surrounded with gaping holes in the ground that looked like they were deep enough to cause someone to fall down forever.

Finally, they stopped the center of the room, and finally, the Grand Sage let go of her aching arm. (Kusanali was secretly glad he didn't let go of her when they were on top of one of the room's bridges.) The man lifted her, placed her on top of a circular platform in the center of it all, and walked away. She didn’t get up. (Was she even allowed to?)

In hushed voices over one of the bridges, the sages started to talk rapidly.

“Sir, using the Gnosis like this is blasphemous. Doing this would be a bad omen for our nation.”

“It’s not, Sage Reza. And omens have no academic backing. Besides, it is our duty to ensure the new Lesser Lord’s safety, and this is the only way we can do so. We’ll have a guard around her to ensure that she’s not to be left alone.”

“But sir! She’s just a child right now - surely there is a better way to house our Archon?”

“Don't forget, she’s not a human child. She doesn't have the same needs as one, either. Besides, our Lord Rukkhadevata meditated here all the time, and for weeks on end, so why wouldn’t it be suitable for this Lesser Lord?”

“I suppose, but… she’s so young. Surely this sort of environment can't be good for any young being. And it doesn’t look like she knows what’s going on either!”

The Grand Sage clicked something into the console near the door, and a large green bubble surrounded her. She crawled over and touched its surface. It was smooth and hard and felt like ice.

“She will be fine. Sage Behrooz! See to it that the Corps of Thirty create a shift of guards to ensure that Kusanali will be supervised at all times. The last thing we need is for her to be taken away by some barbaric louts.”

“Understood.”

The men kept talking about things she couldn’t quite understand, and started to walk towards the giant exit.

“W-Wait!” she cried out. No one seemed to hear her. She tapped the glass with her palms. “Please don’t leave me, I don’t -” she sniffled, “I don’t want to be here alone…”

One of the men from earlier - the one who had a shiny earring - looked at her sadly, and shook his head. One by one, the people walked out of the room. The door shut with a sonorous echo, and Kusanali let her tears fall and fall and fall. She sobbed until exhaustion overwhelmed her.

Kusanali curled up at the edge of the platform. She didn’t want to be left alone. What if someone forgot about her?

"It’s alright, little one," the voice whispered in her head, comfortingly. "You will never be alone, nor forgotten about. Do not forget: as long as I’m around, you’ll have me."

Chapter Text

“Mama?” a young boy cried, his voice echoing throughout the vermilion world. He was clutching a small, fluffy animal toy like it was his lifeline. “Mama?”

Kusanali turned towards him. The kid looked even younger than she was. “What’s wrong? Do you need me to help you find her?”

The boy sniffled and walked right through her. 

That wasn’t normal, right?

“Mama, please come back,” the boy sobbed. “I wanna go home, please.”

Kusanali looked around. The world looked strangely empty, and she saw no one nearby. Shivering, she walked closer to the boy. Even if he couldn’t see her, she felt better knowing that she wasn’t alone.

The two kept walking forward, and the world kept changing while also remaining stagnant. The greyed grass was billowing around in this windless world. She could almost see trees surrounding them, but they all looked ghostly. It was creeping her out.

She wondered where they were. But finding the boy’s mother was more important.

(Kusanali knew the feeling of being alone far too well, and if she could stop someone else from feeling it, then she would.)

The boy slowed down, and then stopped. She felt the world change, and Kusanali stopped beside him.

A rather stout woman stood a few feet in front of them in a lively field, brown hair cascading around her smiling face. “My little prince.”

Kusanali saw the boy’s tears dissolve into a smile. He dropped his plush on the ground, and giggled, “Mama!”. The boy raced towards the woman, jumped into her arms, and they hugged each other, laughing all the while through.

(She ignored the choking emotions swirling around her heart. She wasn’t jealous. She was happy that this boy found his mother.)

Just as Kusanali was about to turn away, she felt something in the air change again. It was slight, but it was something dark. She blinked, and the boy was thrown backwards, out of his mother’s arms. He landed next to Kusanali in a heap.

The child sat up, terror etched into his face. “Mama, what’s going on?” the boy said, voice quivering. He sounded like he was two seconds away from sobbing. His plush lay forgotten besides him.

Kusanali tried to put a hand on the boy’s shoulder to comfort him, but her hand slipped right through.

(She didn't separate the boy from his mother. She wouldn't. She didn't want anyone to feel lonely, and she was happy to see them reunited… Right?)

"This one isn’t your fault, young one. Please don’t take it to heart,” the voice whispered in her mind again. 

“My son. My boy,” his mother said. Her voice was too soft. Too comforting. “I want you to stay safe. Stay alive. Find your Saira Auntie in the city, alright? She’ll take care of you,”

“Mama, no, please,” the boy blubbered. “I wanna stay w-with you. We can go visit Saira Auntie together, and you two can have baklava and chai together like you always do - please.”

His mother smiled. Kusanali could hear creatures howling and coming closer. “You know I can’t. I have to keep you safe.”

The howling got closer, and along with it came untamed barking. “And besides,” the mother said, her smile drowning with tears, “you can't stay with someone who no longer exists in this world.”

The grass beneath them turned to ash, and a pack of large wolves - rifthounds - hurtled towards them. The largest one opened its jaw and ripped the mother backwards by her neck. Her skin sallowed and wrinkled into leather, and her vibrant brown hair stiffened. The pack of rifthounds swarmed her, and the ground splattered into carmine.

The boy’s sobbing turned to terrorized screams. He tried to claw his way back to his mother, but despite his efforts, despite his traumatized cries that Kusanali didn’t think she’d ever be able to erase from her mind, he couldn’t reach her.

Kusanali jerked awake, guilt seizing her heart and tears streaming down her face.

A dream. It was just a dream.

She lifted a (trembling) hand to wipe her face, and hiccuped out a sob. Why did it feel so real? Was the boy okay?

“Lesser Lord Kusanali,” her guard, a sandy-haired man named Ashk, said. “Is everything alright?”

She shook her head, rubbing her eyes, “I don’t know.” She sniffed, and asked shakily, “How can I find someone from a dream? I want to make sure they’re okay.”

Her guard gave her a sad look and shook his head. “Dreams aren’t real, kid. Whatever happens in them was just a fake story that your mind created. Besides, most citizens choose to wear an Akasha terminal to suppress whatever dreams they may have,” he said, tapping the leaf-like ornament on his ear.

Kusanali’s face wobbled. Tears spilled from her eyes yet again. “But it was real! There was a boy who lost his mama, and he feels really sad right now!”

Her guard sighed. “Listen, there’s a lot of kids who lost their parents recently. Even if your dream was real – which I highly doubt it was – there’s no way to track down who it was in it.”

She sniffed again. Her nose was becoming stuffy. “Okay…”

“It’s best to keep your head in reality, Lesser Lord. Dreams aren’t real, and you shouldn’t spend too much time thinking about them.”

Naturally, Kusanali spent most of her time over the next few weeks thinking about dreams.

It’s not like the sages let her do anything else. She was the “Archon of Wisdom”, so she was supposed to spend her time “meditating” and “cultivating that wisdom”.

So she did just that. Or at least, she tried to.

She was just so bored.

(Every time she thought something along those lines, the voice in her head would laugh, and she could swear she felt a ghost of a hug each time.)

“Hey, Mr. Ashk?” Kusanali asked one morning. “I had a dream of a boy a while ago, and he was holding onto a really fluffy toy animal - it had dark stripes on its fur.”

Technically, her guards weren’t supposed to talk about frivolous things with her, but Ashk was different than her night guard. He was usually okay with talking to her about anything - if no one else was around.

He raised his hand just beneath his chin. Kusanali noted that it was something that human adults did when they were thinking really hard. “What color was it? And was it really fluffy and round, or a bit narrower, like a cat? I’m thinking it must have been either a sumpter beast or a rishboland tiger plush.”

“Um, it was orange and fluffy and narrow, I think…?” She felt her face scrunch in confusion. “Are these rishboland tigers really big cats? I thought cats could only be tiny.”

“Typically, house cats are small, but if you feed them too much, then they might get as big as one of those tigers.” Ashk’s eyes twinkled.

Kusanali gasped, “Really?”

Her guard laughed. “Nah, kid. I’m just messing with you.”

“Oh.”

She looked down. Then she fidgeted with her bangles. “Is there any way that I could get one of those…?”

Ashk hummed uncertainly. “Tigers aren’t really safe for anyone, but since you’re an Archon, you might be able to handle one in the future. Although I personally wouldn’t recommend it - there aren’t many in the Akademiya who are trained to deal with the… wellbeing of tigers.”

She felt her face heat up. “No, no, I meant a plushie, like the one I dreamed about…”

He raised his eyebrow. “You really want a children’s plush toy?”

Kusanali nodded.

“Very well then.” Kusanali looked at Ashk and saw him smiling. “Your wish is my command, my Lesser Lord.”

Ashk arrived the next day with no rishboland plush in sight. Kusanali was a little bit disappointed, but she understood. Being an Archon was important, right? Archons have a crucial job to do. She shouldn’t have stuff meant for babies if she’s such an important person.

But then the night guard signed out, Ashk reached into the inside of his jacket pocket and pulled out a reddish rishboland tiger plush, and Kusanali forgot about any of reasons she made up to justify why she wasn't allowed to have one.

“Thank you!!” Kusanali jumped up and down, laughing. “It’s really cute!”

Using the terminal that powered up the bubble around her, Ashk opened up a window large enough to hand Kusanali the small toy.

She stared in awe at it. The plush looked tiny in her guard’s hands, but in her own, it was huge! Kusanali wondered how big rishboland tigers were in real life compared to her toy.

“So what are you going to name it, Lord Kusanali?”

“Name it…?” She looked up at him, confused. “But doesn’t everything come with its own name?”

Ashk shook his head, a soft smile on his face. His bronze eyes glittered. “Of course not. Names are given to everyone as their first gift. And sometimes,” he leaned in conspiratorially, as if telling her a huge secret, “people and animals are given two names.”

Kusanali gasped. “Is that why the sages called me ‘Buer’ that one time?”

He laughed quietly. “That’s not actually what I meant. ‘Buer’ is another one of your Archon titles. No, what I’m referring to is called a nickname. It’s a name that’s given alongside someone’s birth name, and that’s what their family and friends call them.”

“That makes sense.” She looked down at the tiger in her hands. "Do I have a nickname?"

Ashk was silent for a moment, and Kusanali stroked the plush's red fur. "No. I don't think you do."

"Oh." Her voice was quiet. The tiger's fur - her tiger's fur - was sticking out in tufts around its pointy ears, and its black, button eyes were sparkling. She wondered what parts of Sumeru it had seen. She wondered if it had felt just as alone as she did when it came into this world. Kusanali fidgeted with her plush tiger's ears, and hoped that neither of them would feel that alone or isolated again.

“Does this mean I’m my tiger’s only family now?” Kusanali thought back to the voice that had woken up with her. At times, she couldn’t help but think that the voice sounded motherly… But she didn’t even know who that voice belonged to, or if it even considered her to be family.

Ashk nodded. “Yes, and you have to take really good care of her. Alright?”

She nodded back, determined.

“Good.” Her sandy-haired guard ruffled her hair slightly, then pulled out a wooden flask from his pocket and handed it to the young Archon. “I got you some mango juice too. I’m not sure if you’ve had any before, but it’s sweet. I think you’ll like it - a lot of other kids do as well.”

For the rest of the day, Kusanali played with her stuffed tiger (who she named “Naranji”) and Ashk, and took sips of mango juice in between. Most days she felt lonely, but she decided that if she had some fun things to do, then maybe existing here wouldn't be so bad.

Kusanali was dreaming again.

Being aware that she was in a dreamscape was strange, but she was beginning to get more comfortable with it.

The world in dreams was always fuzzy around the edges, but they always remained bright and clear in the center. She never knew where any source of light was coming from. Dreams like these usually left no shadows.

(Unless, of course, the shadows were their own entity. They were scary and awful and if they caught sight of her, they chased her to no end. Kusanali didn’t think she would ever get used to them.)

Another thing that she noticed in these dreams was that she was never alone. It was a stark contrast from her room within the Akademiya (which she learned was a meditation room that belonged to her predecessor). Each time she had a dream, she was certain that she was in the dreamscape of someone who lived in the real world. The guards and sages that she told clearly didn’t believe her, but it was okay. She was starting to like being in places without their constant supervision.

Tonight, she was accompanied by an older woman wearing a flower-patterned headscarf. 

“Hello,” Kusanali waved. “Can you see me?”

(She had gotten into the habit of greeting the people whose dreams she was in. So far, no one had noticed her, but maybe one day someone will.)

The lady, of course, didn’t see her. She was too busy moving beads along a string that looked like a necklace.

“Lord Rukkhadevata, please make sure my brother is safe,” she whispered. “He’s so young, and has his whole life ahead of him. Please, help me find him.”

Kusanali sat next to the woman for what felt like hours, playing with the grass beneath her. (However, she never pulled out the grass or tore it apart. Even in a dream, she didn’t want to risk hurting any plants or animals or making their neighbors feel lonely…)

The wind flowed around and caressed them gently. The scent of the rainforest was floral and filled with petrichor. She could almost, almost, pretend that this dream would continue on peacefully.

But dreams like these usually didn't last.

She felt a shift strike beneath her palm on the ground. Like several times before, a wave of dismal murkiness rushed towards them from all angles. It spiraled upwards into a humanoid shape and stretched out its hand. Kusanali felt a spike of fear at the sight of it.

“My sister,” the something said from everywhere and nowhere. It was plated with dusty, rotting black scales, and was clothed with a shredded cotton shirt. “I thought you forgot about me.”

The lady next to Kusanali smiled. “Of course I didn’t. I’ve been waiting here this whole time for you.” Standing up, the woman grabbed hold of her brother’s(?) hand. “Ready to go home?”

The humanoid figure cocked its head, its face indiscernibly blank. A bit of dust fell off its shoulders. “Home? I’m afraid I don’t have one.”

“Don’t be silly,” the lady laughed. “You’ll always have a home as long as we’re around.”

Kusanali glanced behind the woman, and saw that a small group of people had appeared in front of a house that was definitely not there a second ago. The sky was a greenish color now, but gave the scenery around them an agitated atmosphere.

“Home? No, you misunderstand,” the humanoid figure said. “I don’t have one; I’m afraid.”

The dreamscape around them began to tremor. The "person" in front of them became warmer, the air around it heated into a blaze, and the putrid odor of rot suffocated them. The greyish flesh on it began to melt and flake away.

It's just a dream, Kusanali reminded herself, failing to stop hyperventilating. It's just a dream, it's not real, it's just a dream -

The lady’s arms trembled, and a horrible choking sound came out of her. A blanket of terror wrapped itself around Kusanali, and she shakily took a few steps closer to the woman's side, bumping her shoulder against the woman’s hand.

The figure’s scales fell to the ground, one by one, then all at once, and the form beneath it faded into ash and drifted to the ground. The wind jarringly picked up and blew it away, miles upon miles away from them. The lady gasped, gripping her beads from earlier so harshly that her grip turned stark white. Kusanali’s stomach twisted itself in knots.

“N-No –” the lady wheezed. Slowly, fearfully, she turned around to face her family. (Kusanali saw the woman’s hands shaking and tried to hold them for comfort, but she couldn't reach them.) “Baba, what’s going on? I thought brother’s Eleazar treatments were going well!”

A man gave a sad, pity-filled smile. The other people around him looked barely like ghosts. “You’re didn't come with us. Don’t you remember? Ashraf outlived us. But he didn’t outlive you.”

The house behind them curled into smoke, and the barest trace of a flame danced along its remains.

“You’re right in front of me, though!” the woman said, desperately, hopelessly. Her breathing was erratic and unstable. “Things don’t have to be this way! They don’t! Please, please, don’t,” she choked on another sob. “Don’t leave us! Don’t leave me…”

The ghosts of the woman’s family merged with the fire behind them, and the house burned brighter, bigger, higher. The woman collapsed to the ground, cries and sobs engulfing her every breath. The home crumpled into a heap of wood and ash, and soon, all that was left was the scent of ash and mourning.

“O Dendro Archon,” the woman whimpered. “Help me. I just want my family. Nothing else. Please,” she weeped. “Please…”

As the woman raised a hand to wipe her face, she bumped her arm into Kusanali, who was still standing by her side.

The woman held her breath, and Kusanali blinked as the woman looked up.

Kusanali took a small step back. “Can you see me…?”

The woman’s face shifted between several emotions. Shock, awe, grief, and… anger?

“This is your fault,” the lady whispered seethingly, with her face harshly contorted. “If you had just fulfilled your role as the Dendro Archon better, then none. Of. This. Would. Have. Happened.”

Kusanali was shaking.“I promise, I would have done all I could to stop this from happening if I could have,” she said, her voice withered and tight. Tears bubbled in her eyes. “I don’t want to see your — I never wanted to see anyone’s family get hurt like this.”

“You’re a liar, Lesser Lord.” The woman’s voice and body were trembling. “We all would have understood if you died, but NO! You lived, and everyone else in Sumeru had to suffer because of it.”

Kusanali took a wobbly step back. And another. The dreamscape stretched, and all at once, the lady felt like she was inches in front of her face and a million miles away.

It wasn’t fair. She was born into this world, and didn’t even get a chance to do anything to help or hurt anyone. So why was everyone blaming her? The sages, the people, her guards who whispered when they thought she couldn’t hear… Why?

“It’s YOUR FAULT!” the woman screamed, lunging at the young Dendro Archon. A flurry of miasma and grief shot directly towards Kusanali, and every nerve within her told her to RUN.

She stumbled backwards and tripped. A whirlwind of leaves erupted around her, and the world stretched and diffused into oblivion.

Kusanali opened her eyes, with leaden guilt and unbridled panic crushing her. She took a deep breath. Then another one. The heaviness in her heart dissipated (or so she tried to convince herself). 

Slowly, she became aware of her surroundings. Kusanali was lying down on something soft, and… squishy? Tilting her head, she saw a large, foamy blob that looked similar to the mushrooms she was given sometimes as a snack (but it was bigger, and painted with pretty pastel colors). The sky was still green, but it had a fresher look to it. The scent of dust and ash was replaced with a pleasant linen one, and the wind danced around cheerfully. Birds chirped in the distance.

"My child,” the unnamed voice that has been present forever in her short life said, softly, wearily. "Are you alright?”

“I guess…” Kusanali said, voice dry and aching.

"You don’t have to say yes,” the voice said. "It’s okay to not be alright, young one. You don’t have to wear a mask all the time.”

Kusanali felt the tears in her eyes wobble. She sniffed. They spilled out. “I j-just,” she hiccuped, “didn’t think that my first proper interaction with someone in a dream would be perfect and h-happy, but I didn’t think it would be this awful.”

She shook, sobs wracking her small frame, and she curled up onto the mushroom with her eyes squeezed shut, letting out the storm of tears that she had been holding in for so long.

Kusanali felt so small, and so useless. Objectively, she knew that she couldn’t have shown up earlier. But she wishes she had the chance to, so that she could right some of the wrongs in this world, so that she could stop the people around her from hurting.

A breeze whisked by, and a leaf brushed by her face and softly wiped away one of her tears. She opened her scrunched up eyes, and an older woman with pale hair and bright emerald eyes sat down in front of her.

The woman smiled at Kusanali sadly, and stretched out her hand to tuck away a strand obscuring the new Archon’s face. “Kusanali, darling.”

Owlishly, she stared at the woman. A wave of calm wrapped around her. The woman before her had a strong aura, stronger than anything she had felt in both dreams and reality, yet it felt so familiar.

One of the sages said she was a "type of version" of the Greater Lord.

“Are you,” she said, voice hoarse from tears, “Rukkhadevata?”

The woman’s verdant eyes glistened. “What makes you think that?”

Kusanali sat up straight. The dream erased any trace of her sadness, refreshing her face, and it was like she had never cried at all. “You’re... just like me. I can feel it.”

Rukkhadevata laughed and brushed back Kusanali’s hair. “As expected of the Archon of Wisdom. You’re right; I am Rukkhadevata.”

“But how? Everyone said that you sacrificed yourself.”

The glimmer in Rukkhadevata’s eyes dimmed slightly. “I hope you never have to experience this yourself, little one, but the death of a god never goes unnoticed. Think for a second: had I truly died, there would have been no question as to where I was. Everyone would know that I was gone, and that would be that.”

“So you’re still alive? Why can’t you come back and be Sumeru’s Archon?”

Rukkhadevata’s sad smile returned, and Kusanali frowned. Sometimes adults refused to be straightforward with her, and she could never figure out why.

“I didn’t exactly die, but I will never be able to return to the form that I once was in. My form had corrupted, and leaving this world was the only way I was able to stop more harm from befalling on our people.”

“But if you did your best,” Kusanali said, a fresh onslaught of tears coming to her eyes, “then how come no one blames you for leaving? How come everyone blames me for not doing enough?”

“Hey, enough of that,” Rukkhadevata said gently, scooping up Kusanali in her arms. “Neither of us started this conflict, and it was never your responsibility to deal with the fall out of it in the first place. It was mine, and I’m sorry for not leaving a better world for you to grow up in.”

Rukkhadevata embraced her, and Kusanali felt the gape in her heart heal over just a little bit.

“I don’t have that much time, my child,” Rukkhadevata whispered. “So before I go, I want to show you something.”

“Wait, you’re leaving?” Kusanali sniffled.

“Unfortunately, I am,” Rukkhadevata said, stroking her hair. “I don’t have much energy to spare, and I can’t keep a corporeal form for long, even in a dream.”

Rukkhadevata gently grabbed Kusanali’s small hand and pressed their palms together. A verdant light glowed between their palms, and a gem-like leaf sparked into existence.

Kusanali pulled away, and caressed the “leaf” in her cupped hands. It looked like some of the ear decorations that she saw the sages and some of her guards wear around her.

Plucking it from her hands, Rukkhadevata snuggly put it on Kusanali’s right ear.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then, within a fraction of a second, waves upon waves of knowledge cascaded on her mind, and facts she had never known and things she had never heard of suddenly became familiar to her. Kusanali’s limbs tingled, and she felt as if she were aglow.

“This is your Akasha Terminal,” Rukkhadevata said, voice distant. Did she sound far away because she had just been submerged into a whole new realm, or some other reason? She wasn't sure. “During the day, you can peruse the knowledge that it collects, and in your dreams, you can make whatever is stored within it come to life. I won’t be able to keep you company, but I hope this will.”

A stiff creature - a dusk bird, her mind supplied - hopped next to her. It looked immobile, but this was the first proper creature that Kusanali had ever interacted with in her life. She stroked its beak, and it hopped back, still in the same standing position that it was in when it first appeared. Jumping into the sky, the dusk bird flew away, with its wings folded by its side and with the same standing posture as before.

“You may need to teach yourself a few things about how physics in the real world works, but after you get a hang of it, your experience in dreams should hopefully be less empty and a bit more entertaining.”

“But what if I need help understanding it?” Kusanali said, turning her head upwards, towards the area where her predecessor’s face was. But she was gone. The dreamscape was empty, and all that remained was her own self, and her new access to the knowledge of a world that she couldn't interact with.

A quiet wave of loneliness settled upon the air, and suddenly Kusanali understood a bit of the sorrow and grief that the citizens of Sumeru felt when looking for a lost loved one.

Chapter Text

The morning after meeting Rukkhadevata for the first time, Kusanali woke up with the ornate leaf accessory from the dream braided into her hair (The Akasha, her mind supplied), Naranji by her side, and a stream of quiet sunlight flowing overhead.

Several thoughts blossomed in her mind. Rukkhadevata said she didn’t die, but also that her form had been corrupted. If Kusanali figured out a way to give her a new form, then could she possibly come back? Would Sumeru have a proper Archon again? A small wave of vexation overcame her as she remembered what the Grand Sage - Pezhman - had taken from her. The Gnosis was entrusted to each of the Archons, and was meant to serve as a means to defend each nation as well as a direct link of communication to Celestia. How was she supposed to do anything without a source power?

But a few seeds of doubt planted themselves into her mind. Even with a Gnosis, I’d be too weak to defend anyone right now, let alone myself. Even if it’s my ‘divine right’ to hold it, if another calamity strikes, I could make things worse for Sumeru - I’m not strong enough. I might never be strong enough…

She sat up and shook her head.

Kusanali decided that, for now, she would focus on learning how to become the best Archon that she could be, so that in the future, she could rightfully reclaim her mantle as her nation’s Archon and properly lead Sumeru.

(Although she had no idea what an Archon or a leader of a nation was supposed to do, she decided that it couldn’t be that hard. Like a tree that grows tall to give shade and grow fruit, she too would make sure that everyone in her nation would have a home and plenty to eat.)

“Good morning, my Lesser Lord!” Ashk said. He always sounded bright, but he had a certain sparkle that was especially prevalent in the morning. “I hope you slept well! Oh, and Naranji too, of course.”

Kusanali smiled. “Good morning, Mr. Ashk! Me and Naranji slept very well.” She put her tiger on her lap and smoothed out its soft, bright fur.

“That would be ‘Naranji and I slept well’,” Ashk said, smiling back gently.

Her face scrunched up. “But both of those sentences mean the same thing, right…?”

“Technically yes,” Ashk nodded. “But one is grammatically correct, while the other is not. You can speak however you would like to, my Lord. But I advise you to speak as properly as you can so that others are more inclined to take you seriously.”

Kusanali felt a flash of hurt.

“That’s not to say that I don’t treat you seriously! But… others might not. I promise that I’m saying this out of respect, not malice.”

“Okay.” She took a small breath. “‘Naranji and I slept very well’.” The order felt slightly strange on her tongue, but she would get used to it. “Thank you, Mr. Ashk.”

He gave her a tight smile. “Of course. Now,” he said, pulling a canvas pouch out of his jacket, “would you like to try some dried zaytun peaches?”

“Wait,” she said. Something in his expression bothered her. “What exactly did you mean when you said that? Do other people not treat other adults seriously if they don’t speak well? Or,” she said, thinking back to when the sages first found her, “do they just use it as an excuse to treat someone differently because they can?”

Ashk stilled a little, and glanced around to make sure they were alone. “My Lesser Lord.” His voice was light, but far quieter. “You’re still young, and you can learn this later on.”

But Kusanali was starting to recognize deflection when she saw it. And besides, she didn’t hear a no. “Mr. Ashk,” she responded, in the same light but quiet voice. “I can handle it, and this feels like something I need to know. Besides,” she said, giving him a small but serious smile, “how am I supposed to grow up and become Sumeru’s Archon if I don’t learn?”

When she wasn’t browsing through her Akasha terminal, Kusanali started to pay attention to the smaller details of the rare social interactions that occurred around her. How the night guard wouldn’t even look in Ashk’s direction even though he greeted her cheerfully every day without fail, how some of the sages who passed by them would give Ashk a wide berth, and the expressions of belittlement and disgust that washed over some of the faces when they looked in her guard’s direction.

Ashk was born in a small desert village. His tribe had little to negative renown, and even within the Corps of Thirty, most either ignored him or treated him awfully.

“But it’s alright, my Lesser Lord!” Ashk had laughed timidly. “By teaching myself to be an upstanding member of society, and by having a positive disposition, I’ve managed to get a high enough rank that I’ve been tasked to protect you!”

That was kind of him to say. But Kusanali has heard in several peoples’ dreams that being around or near her was a curse, and that she should be avoided at all costs. But at the very least, she knew there was at least one person who didn’t think so. (She would have figured this out anyways just from Ashk’s own generosity and warmth, but her point still stood.)

Kusanali was disappointed that Sumeru had this mentality about some desertfolk, and that the discrimination fell so deep that it divided some from within, too. For a nation of wisdom, some people in her nation were certainly quite… dull. What does someone have to gain from the depreciation of another group, even if they revered another god? Wouldn’t it be easier and more beneficial if everyone just got along?

(An older version of her would grow to learn more about the subject but still not quite understand it. Humans were strange, she decided.)

As time went on, Kusanali and Ashk talked more frequently and casually with each other. It was fun conversing with him, but a deep seated itch left her wanting more.

So, Ashk volunteered (after filling out a ‘mountain of paperwork’ and gaining approval from the sages) to bring Kusanali several tomes of educational books and dozens of stationery supplies so she didn’t have to spend her days doing nothing. Thankfully, her bubble was enlarged to accommodate storage shelves and a new library. 

(Kusanali secretly wondered why the sages didn’t think to do this themselves. From what she learned through the Akasha, feelings of boredom and understimulation can lead to behavioral issues, dysregulation, and a varying degree of unhealthy habits.)

Once all of her new items arrived, she asked one of the sages if she could have a tutor to make sure that she properly understands some of the concepts, but they vehemently rejected it, saying that “a God of Wisdom should be smart enough to teach herself”. (She suspected there was more to it than that, but didn’t press.)

Kusanali was more than up for the challenge to teach herself, but was nervous she would get something wrong. At the least, she was grateful that she was born literate, otherwise this whole endeavor may have been a bit tough.

One day, Kusanali was curious about the one thing that was not in publicly available literature, nor in her Akasha. So she sent a message in her Akasha and requested for one of the sages to come. 

Grand Sage Pezhman arrived with his arms crossed, looking very much nettled, but that was to be expected. Pezhman didn’t like her, and would only come if no one else were available.

She asked him questions about her predecessor - everything from Greater Lord Rukkhadevata’s personality, to the reason why she stayed in the Sanctuary of Surasthana, to the powers that the Dendro Archon wielded when she was alive. Pezhman answered all of her questions tightly and with a clenched jaw.

When Kusanali finally asked her question about Rukkhadevata’s connection and powers involving dreams and her suspicions that she may have them herself, Pezhman snapped.

“Rukkhadevata didn’t have any connection to dreams,” he snarled, his fist tightly constricted over the console that caged her away from freedom. “It’s a myth that any of her powers were associated with them. The so-called ‘aranara’ that she created are nothing but fodder for childrens’ fairytales. So don’t you dare suggest that you or the Greater Lord have powers that are clearly unbefitting for the God of Wisdom. Dreams are nothing but frivolity, and they have nothing to do with intelligence or knowledge.”

He demanded for the stone gate to be opened and stormed out of the room, unprotected from the monsoon outside.

Kusanali hummed, and let herself get lost in thought.

She imagined that if she had the courage to ask her questions a few weeks ago, she might have been reduced to tears if the Grand Sage had yelled at her like that. But that was then, and this was now.

Mental maturity was a part of growing up. She supposed that while human children were more like steady-growing trees, she was more akin to fungi - they may look small, but they tend to have larger and deeper roots with a higher germination rate.

Shaking away her rambling thoughts, she began to research what Pezhman mentioned - the aranara. Although there were no studies or formal research projects done on them, she managed to find mentions of them in the mythological and cultural sections of the Akasha.

(A familiar and ancient feeling tugged at her heart slightly when she was reading about them. So Rukkhadevata did create the aranara.)

She wondered if the aranara knew what happened to the Greater Lord. She wondered if they knew she existed. Would they want to be Kusanali’s friend, if she ever managed to meet them? In stories, they stay where the forest is, and sometimes they even wander into the desert - but never where large civilizations were. Kusanali at least hoped that she could meet them in dreams. She also hoped the Cataclysm didn’t hurt too many of them...

“Alright, my Lesser Lord,” Ashk said. “Which topic will you study today?” Every morning, the second after her night guard left, he opened a window in her bubble and started up a conversation with her. It was usually the only social interaction she got, unless she requested for a sage to visit her.

She hummed in thought, and a memory from a dream she had a few months ago sprouted to mind. “I have been meaning to learn physics for a while now, so I think I’ll work on that.”

“Um. Physics? That’s not the most entertaining subject to learn about.” Her guard huffed out a self-conscious laugh. “Still, I wish you luck. And, if you don’t mind my asking… Why physics?”

For reasons unknown to her, the sages had adamantly told her and her guards that she was not to be let out of her bubble, which unfortunately meant that any practical study she wanted to do could only happen in her dreamscapes.

Kusanali awkwardly looked away. Naranji was sitting with a notebook that was a miniature version of her own, looking similarly stiff to a dusk bird that ‘flew away’ from her once. “I think you know exactly why, Ashk.”

He nodded, a frown replacing his normally merry face. Unlike Pezhman, he believed that she had powers linked to dreams; she once begged for him to find a specific and traumatized dreamer, and after finding them, he said any doubt that he had about this was gone.“Okay then. Physics, but you should also learn the basics of kinesiology as well.”

“That should help me out a lot!” Kusanali said. “I do wish the Akasha could show users moving pictures, though… Then I wouldn’t have to reverse engineer the anatomy of creatures just to figure out their range of motion.”

Ashk idly picked up a forgotten fountain pen from the ground. “Certainly. But you know, a real friend would probably figure out a way to sneak some of these animals in and just show you.”

“That doesn’t sound right, Mr. Ashk,” she said, tapping a finger on her chin. (She couldn’t figure out why humans did this sort of motion since movements like these probably didn’t impact someone’s thought process, but the movement was fun to do.) “I don’t think a friend would risk their own safety and job just to make a friend happy for a brief moment. I think they would do what you’re doing and help me as best as they can!”

Kusanali saw her guard still. 

“I…” Ashk’s voice sounded strange. His face contorted slightly. He looked… sad? No, another word she learned recently popped into her mind. Distraught.

The pen that her guard was holding slipped to the ground, and his bronze eyes glazed over with tears. 

Confusion and concern flooded Kusanali, and the two stared at each other for a few moments.

“My dear Archon, I am so sorry,” Ashk said tightly, turning away and bringing his sleeves up to cover his eyes.

Silence stepped into the room with them again. 

“...No. Please don’t be. I am sorry,” Kusanali said. Although Ashk and Naranji were in the room with her, a shadow of loneliness cast over her heart. “I did not mean to call you a friend. It was wrong of me to assume we were at that level of closeness.” Because after all, what else could she call it? He was far more than a guard to her - he brought over different tasty fruits, vegetables, and sweets every time he saw her, told her jokes and kept her company, and occasionally gifted her different toys and coloring supplies. Maybe he was ordered to act this way in order to make sure that she socially develops correctly. Or maybe he was just trying to go above and beyond in his job - guarding her was his career, and if he did well, maybe he would get a promotion for his next post.

“My dear Lesser Lord, that is not at all what I meant,” Ashk said, laughing and crying all at once, turning again towards her. “I apologize for bursting into tears. You shouldn’t have to see that side of me, and it clearly made you worry.”

Kusanali’s face burned in embarrassment, and she looked away.

“Hey, wait. Lesser Lo- Kusanali. Kid.”

She looked back at him, somewhat surprised. Ashk smiled softly and sadly, and put his hand on her head for a moment before pulling away.

“I’m sorry. For a moment, you reminded me a lot of someone I used to know. It just took me by surprise.”

For all the months they had known each other, neither of them talked about the past. Namely because Kusanali had no past of her own to talk about, and Ashk didn’t want to seem to divulge his personal life. So she didn’t pry.

He chuckled. “I know you want to ask. And that’s okay - I’ll tell you.” A couple of tears slid down his face, but he made no move to wipe them away. “The last time someone called me a friend… Well. I moved my family to a safe house, and I apologized for taking them away from the life they knew. But my daughter said that it was okay, and that she didn’t need any other friends other than me and my partner.”

“Your daughter?”

“Yeah,” Ashk said. His bronze eyes swirled with tears, but he was wearing the biggest smile that Kusanali has ever seen in her life. “Her name was Anahita, and she was the kindest, most adorable kid ever. She was around your age when she…” Ashk took a shaky breath in. “When she died. My spouse died at that time too. They were just civilian casualties as a result of the war, so there wasn’t much I could have done to help.”

The two were quiet.

“I’m sorry,” Kusanali murmured.

“Don’t be. If anything, thank you for being you.” he said, ruffling her hair. “You’re a really fun kid to hang around, and I’m honored to be your friend.”

The months kept changing on her Akasha terminal’s calendar. She noticed that her guards’ uniforms changed from a thicker material into a lighter fabric, and then again into a warmer one, despite the temperature in the Sanctuary staying constant and unchanging. 

Her first birthday arrived with almost little fanfare. None of the sages passed through her room, which was highly unusual, because some of their offices could only be accessed when passing through her dome-shaped green room. 

She also noticed that her night guard and Ashk were wearing dark funerary drapes over their normal uniforms. 

Ashk spoke in hushed tones when he arrived for his shift. He wished her a happy birthday, and told her all of the news and rumors going around.

Some of Sumeru’s people warmed up to the idea of Kusanali’s existence and wanted to celebrate her birthday. They even named today as the new date of the Sabzeruz Festival! (Her heart fluttered, and she wished that she was able to meet some of her people.) 

However, many of the other citizens and the sages were opposed to the idea of a celebration, saying that celebrating Kusanali’s birthday and establishing a new date for the Sabzeruz Festival was be a confirmation of the “death” of Rukkhadevata, as well as a disrespectful way to commemorate the anniversary of the war. Orders were issued to have more guards than normal patrol the streets in order to stop any potential festivities from occurring. 

(The scariest thing Ashk told her was a rumor that the Grand Sage personally demanded that the amount of guards around her were not to be increased, despite the increased hostility and threats against her. Many believed that if Kusanali were killed as a sacrifice, Rukkhadevata would return. Her blood ran cold at the thought, but Ashk assured her that he wouldn’t let anyone touch her.)

And so, she spent her first birthday quietly eating yalda candies and distractedly reading an illustrated novel about the Knight of Flowers, while her guard stood around her more solemnly and seriously than he ever had before.

Thankfully, her birthday ended uneventfully, and time kept moving forward.

During the days, Ashk would hang around her while she learned from a new collection of books and the Akasha. He would chat with her about Akademiya news and gossip, and tell her all the little things that she couldn’t learn from a textbook.

During the nights, Kusanali dreamed.

She discovered that with proper concentration and meditation, she could avoid accidentally sharing a dreamscape with a random person within Sumeru. At first, she wondered if she couldn’t link to someone wearing an Akasha Terminal, but that turned out to not be the case; whether they were an adult or child, a native Sumeran or a foreigner, Kusanali could wander in a person’s dreamscape - at least, if they were both asleep and within the land of her nation. (While researching this, she found herself down a rabbit hole about Akashas and their impacts and links to the human sleep cycle. While many scholars seemed to think that those who had an Akasha terminal didn’t dream, she realized that they definitely were, but that those dreams would not be linked to or stored in their long term memory. She was unsure if this was an unintentional side effect of the Akasha or not.)

“Okay, Naranji!” Kusanali smiled at the dream version of her beloved plush, who was stretching on the ground languidly. “Do you want to play with some crystalflies today?”

Naranji circled around her feet and purred. Kusanali giggled, glad that she studied the biomechanics and behaviors of tigers and house cats.

Her own dreamscape was a constantly shifting landscape of pastel foliage and light. Sure, the colors were different from how real world plants probably were, the wind probably didn’t interact with the world as real wind did, and a lot of the plants she made were ones she imagined on her own, but it was alright. 

Kusanali loved it.

She felt free in this world. She wasn’t confined to her dome-like room nor trapped in her bubble in the real world. She could do whatever she wanted, and could explore as much as she could.

“Let’s go then, Naranji!” Laughing, she shouted and broke into a run, “I’ll race you to Jalebi Meadows!”

The scenery shifted as they ran. The scents of cardamom and saffron playfully swirled around them as they got closer to their destination. One by one, Kusanali started changing up the details of the dreamscape ahead of them. 

She slowly shifted the periwinkle grass into a soft and squishy watermelon-colored moss that twinkled under the bright sky. The iridescent forest around her thinned, and sweetly scented springy orange curls sprouted up around them.

According to Sumeran tradition, the new year was a time to celebrate with one’s close family and friends, so Ashk volunteered to take half of her night guard’s shift and snuck in a ton of food for them to share together. He told her several stories that Sumeran children were also told during the holidays. Kusanali learned that gulabi chai was as pretty and pink as it was tasty and sweet, and that sometimes nihari was spicy enough that she could cause a Burning reaction to occur. (Accidentally, of course. She tearfully apologized to her guard for burning off his eyebrows, but he just laughed it off in response.)

Kusanali also tried jalebi for the first time that night. The sticky orange spirals were so syrupy and warm, and she decided it would be fun if plants could grow them naturally in the wild.

Stout hickory trees with curly orange leaves stretched all around her, and she slowed her running pace to a walk.

Naranji tripped and rolled a bit ahead of her, bumping into a jalebi bush. Kusanali giggled as she watched her plush paw at her now-sticky forehead.

“Aw, come here, you,” she said, stretching her arms out. The watermelon moss rapidly grew and lifted Naranji into her arms, and they walked onward.

(She reminded herself to read more about moss in her Akasha terminal when she woke up. Moss could layer itself onto other plants and objects, and even grow into a field of its own, but could it naturally layer onto itself and grow into a bush- or tree-like plant? Kusanali knew that moss was described as ‘soft’, but she didn’t know too much about how it worked.)

Kusanali combed her hand through Naranji’s fur, and the stickiness melted away from the dream. Her plush purred and snuggled closer into her. Humming contently, she walked past the jalebi-themed plants and into a clearing.

The edge of it ended with a cliff and a clear view of the colorful sky in front of them. She tapped the air in front of her, and placed a gem in the sky that somewhat resembled a late day sun. It defracted the mysterious and ever-present colorful light within the dream, making the world around them sparkle more vibrantly. 

“Okie-dokie,” she said, happy but serious, observing the dreamscape. Playing around was a serious matter to her, and she didn’t have much time to do it - at least, not if she wanted to have the time to talk to Ashk during the day. 

Naranji hopped down silently from her arms and swished her tail around. Kusanali stepped forward. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

She read about crystalflies earlier in the day. No one knows how they come into this world. Some researchers have theorized that crystalflies randomly emerge from places of high elemental concentration that are dangerous for humans to be near. But others oppose that, and believe that crystalflies are born pure and pristine and as clear and crystalline as glass, with only a short amount of time to imbue themselves with an element, lest they die. Kusanali wasn’t sure how she felt about the latter theory: the idea of seeing a completely clear crystalfly sounded lovely, but if it meant their yearslong lifespan would be shortened to mere days…

Her dreams were safe, though. Nothing would die within them again. (…At least, she hoped.)

Kusanali crouched down, placing a palm on the watermelon-colored moss. If seeds placed in the ground bloomed open within the earth, then crystalflies could theoretically effloresce from the inside of a flower, right?

Right before her eyes, a flowerless lily of the valley grew in front of her. Its stems (which were stunningly shifting between violet and metallic shades) grew and grew until it was as tall as she was. She stood up. Tapping it, she willed dozens of white flower buds to emerge from it.

Naranji’s fur fluffed up and she meowed at the plant. 

“What do you think?” 

Her plush cat took a few steps forward and sniffed one of the branches, then walked back and curled next to Kusanali. “Okay, I’ll let them out first. Then we can decide what to do next!”

The plant glimmered, and one by one, each of the flowers on the lily of the valley bloomed. A singular clear crystalfly was unfurled from the center of each blossom.

The crystalflies sat patiently, fluttering their wings in wait. The iridescent light from the artificial sun made them look like they were infused with all of the elements at once.

She inhaled.

“And… GO!” Kusanali threw her arms up and out, conducting the crystalflies to fly.

The flurry of the glasslike butterflies was captivating. They caught the light of the jewel in the sky wonderfully, and for a few seconds, all she could do was stare in awe.

She willed for a handful of them to be imbued with dendro. Then, geo. She wondered if real crystalflies of different elements could cause elemental reactions when they met. She wondered if the crystalflies would be hurt if that happened in the real world.

‘They will be okay here,’ she assured herself. After all, there weren’t many consequences here, and what was the use of acquiring knowledge if you couldn’t mess around with its theory? It wouldn’t be any fun if someone simply learned what was known without experimenting a little!

Kusanali saw the wings of a geo and dendro crystalfly brush against one another. Holding her hands in front of her, she made a square to frame the sight in front of her. The two crystalflies came into view, and she willed a dendro Crystallization to blip into existence. It fell to the ground, bobbing slightly.

(Hypothetically, she could walk forward and crush the Crystallization with her hands, forming a shield around her. But her stomach churned at the idea of being ‘shielded’ by a green bubble…)

Her breathing hitched, and she took a step back.

Naranji was jumping up towards the crystalflies, trying to (unsuccessfully) paw one down.

Kusanali giggled, somewhat lightheaded. “Don’t be silly. You can’t grab one, Naranji! Let them fly around freely - and make sure you don’t mess with them when they’re resting!”

Her plush tilted its head toward her and purred sadly, but ceased jumping up at them.

(It wasn't like she hated the Sanctuary. It was her home. She felt safe there. Still, she wished...)

Exhaling, Kusanali imbued handfuls of the crystalflies with different elements until there wasn’t a single clear one left in sight. When different elements of crystalflies fluttered by one another, several different reactions occurred. Her eyes went wide as she saw what she imagined them to look like - Electrocharged, Superconduct, Burning, and every other reaction under the sun. They all sparkled before her. 

She sighed longingly. ‘The real world must be so pretty.’

For the rest of the dream, she played around more with the crystalflies, unfettering her mind from thoughts of confinement.

The anemo ones danced around the geo ones for a few moments, and created what she thought a ‘sandstorm’ reaction might look like. Bustles of mini tornados sprouted about, and Naranji got caught up in one, dizzily spinning around. Giggling, Kusanali plucked her cat out of it, but Naranji sprung away the first chance she got, clearly disgruntled.

She toyed with an idea for what a cryo and dendro reaction would look like, and turned the field into one of elemental ‘frost’. She hadn’t experienced winter before, but hoped that the cold feeling she created in the ground was somewhat accurate.

She moved on from that thought, ignoring the pressure from her heart, and played around some more.

…If crystalflies could cause elemental reactions, then surely some could be born with multiple elemental infusions. So, she caused different crystalflies to have just that, and decided that the mismatched wing colors looked pretty, even if they weren’t monochromatic and pristine.

Kusanali wondered why certain things wouldn’t interact with each other. She wondered if it really was for everyone’s own good. But then she wondered that if everything was free to interact with the world as it wished, then maybe they would all feel less like the caged bird that she was.

Many more years flew by, and Kusanali kept learning, and she kept dreaming.

Her first night guard was promoted to a different position, and was replaced with a bustling man who sang hushed folk songs when there was no one else around. No one had ever sung her a lullaby, but she imagined they would feel as warm as the songs that echoed around the Sanctuary.

She began to voluntarily explore others’ dreams, and learned that as time distances itself from the war, so too does peace become more commonplace in the dreams of her people.

Grand Sage Pezhman passed away after a weeks-long illness that swept the nation. He was old, and Kusanali had long suspected that his time was coming to a close. The new Grand Sage was a stoic-looking woman from Spantamad named Awat. Although Kusanali asked if she could be allowed to rule Sumeru, or at least be allowed to wander it, Grand Sage Awat advised against it. She said that although she may have the knowledge to do so, the massive amount of resentment still held against her would make her a very inefficient ruler. Grand Sage Awat also told her that it would be irresponsible to allow Sumeru’s Archon to roam freely, especially since she was far from the power level that Rukkhadevata was at. It was simply too risky, even with guards to accompany her.

(Kusanali then decided that she would not rule her nation directly unless her people asked, or needed her. She also personally promised to herself that she would do as much as possible to learn and train so that she could be trusted to wander the world freely.)

In her dreams, she grew a wide variety of fruits and vegetables onto plants that couldn’t ordinarily grow or support them. At first, she started small and grew bustles of radishes onto a grove of sturdy apple trees. Later, she experimented with other forms of vegetation, and even figured out a way to alter the structure of a bamboo tree so that it would be able to support fully grown watermelons! Naranji accompanied her every step of the way, and she was glad she didn’t have to be alone.

Kusanali learned what decades felt like when she noticed that Ashk’s sandy blonde hair slowly began to turn silver, and wrinkles and crow’s feet melted onto his face. She worried that the wrinkles would cause him to gain the aches and pains that many acquired as they grew old, but her friend laughed her off as always. “Don’t worry about me,” he said heartily. “I feel just as young as I did when I first met you!”

She smiled, still worried, but made sure to remind him more frequently to take care of himself.

Although the dreams of her people were far more peaceful nowadays, there was the occasional person who had a nightmare. Whether it was someone stressed about Akademiya entrance examination results, a student distressed over finals, or just an everyday person worrying about life, Kusanali swam between dreamscapes and did her best to comfort them all. She kept her identity hidden, knowing that some dreamers would be less than receptive to interacting with the Lesser Lord of Sumeru, but somehow a few made the connection that it was her.

(She would never forget the overflowing euphoria from the first time a dreamer recognized her and addressed her by name, and cherished all of the others who recognized her after.)

Ashk was still the only person who gave her anything - food, supplies, and whatever she had asked for. The previous Grand Sage had imposed a rule stating that no civilian was to gift any offerings to the Lesser Lord because it would be “dishonorable to Rukkhadevata”. Fortunately for her, Ashk wasn’t a civilian, and he happily indulged her requests, and frequently gave her gifts.

Kusanali also began to toy around with the anatomy of several creatures she had become familiar with. 

Sure, sumpter beasts and shroomboars couldn’t naturally breathe underwater, but that was because their lungs were better for filtering air! By slightly changing a creature’s anatomy to restrict water from entering their lungs, any landlubbing being could breathe and maybe live underwater. They just needed fins or weights to keep themselves from bobbing back up to the surface.

She also learned how wings worked, and her dusk birds no longer flew in her skies like the way that bricks were thrown. She dreamed up and befriended a lot of avian friends, and realized that as long as something had wings and a consciousness, anything could fly! 

The same went for other creatures. As long as she outfitted them with hybridized anatomy, any one of her dreamscape creatures could fly, swim, walk upright, or speak in human languages.

Kusanali ended up with lots of animal friends who would travel around with her in various forms, as well as several gardens of vegetables willing to strike up a conversation if they felt ripe enough for it.

Ashk reminisced about his past a lot more often than he used to. He told her stories of how he met his spouse for the first time, and how the two kept constantly and ‘accidentally’ bumping into each other before his spouse finally gained the courage to ask if they could go on a date. He told her the story of the fictional goddess Anahita, and how the couple wanted their adopted daughter to have the traits of wisdom, healing, and growth that were associated with this character. He told her of his and his spouse’s plans for the then-future, and how Anahita grew up so fast.

He told her of the aftermath, and the struggles and realization that his daughter and spouse would never grow again.

(Despite the tragedy of the story, Kusanali didn’t mind hearing it over and over again. She admired the tenacity that humans had, and their resilience in the face of their life being changed. She wondered: if she were human, would her soul-crushing loneliness have dissipated long ago?)

Through her exploration of what lies beyond dreams, and by using the information in the Akasha, she discovers Irminsul.

There was something wrong with it. 

From what Kusanali could see, its silvered roots were intact and fairly healthy. Yet several of the branches were blighted beyond repair. She didn’t know where the corruption came from, how to stop it, or what its impact would be on her people. Still, she would do her best to work tirelessly to fix it. Kusanali was able to access Irminsul by proxy, so any toxins within it wouldn't impact her.

She was also constantly exploring her Akasha, and stumbled upon another discovery. As she had guessed long ago, someone was tampering with the functionality of the Akasha. The logs she found suggested that dreams were being blocked and harvested from their originators. Those who linked up to an Akasha terminal definitely were supposed to have the ability to remember their dreams, but couldn’t. She hypothesized that it was definitely someone ranked highly within the Akademiya, and most certainly one of the sages (if not multiple of them). 

Kusanali pondered about what to do about it for months.

In the end, she decided to do nothing.

Although she herself was against this action that the Akademiya was conducting, it wasn’t in her purview to change or limit their actions. Not on this matter, anyways. The Akasha long existed before she did, and it was Rukkhadevata herself who gave the sages and the people access to it.

Who was she to change their actions after their Greater Lord gave them permission?

Rukkhadevata would want the people of Sumeru to utilize the Akasha’s full potential, even if it potentially had some consequences. How else would people learn? Perhaps they saw some wisdom in it that only humans were capable of seeing.

It didn’t matter if Kusanali objected to their actions.

It didn’t.

So, she quietly ignored the issue and did her best to move on with her life. As much as it pained her that Sumerans weren't able to dream, it wasn't technically harming anyone as of now, so addressing the matter wasn't urgent.

Kusanali woke up a few moments before her night guard ended his shift. An unhurried stream of quiet sunlight flowed over and throughout the emerald room, as it always did.

Stretching, she sat up and glanced at her shelf. “Good morning, Naranji,” she whispered to her plush.

Her rishboland tiger’s fur became matted and worn as time went on, and despite Kusanali’s efforts to fix her, Naranji’s aging threads started to wear away and fade in places. So a few years ago, she rehomed her plush from her arms to her shelf to preserve her as much as possible. Aside from the occasional dusting and cleaning, Kusanali didn’t play around with her tiger. (At least, not outside of her dreams.)

The rest of her shelves were lined with various books and knick-knacks that Ashk had gifted her throughout the years. Love didn’t have a physical form, but Kusanali realized that wasn’t always true; the warmth she felt when looking at her collection was certainly proof of that.

The stone gates opened, and she stood to greet her day guard. “Good morning, Ashk!”

Footsteps, and the distant silhouette of the guard that just entered was unfamiliar.

She frowned at the new man, who silently walked towards her and turned away, standing in a stiff sentry position.

“Hello. What’s your name? How long are you here to act as a substitute guard?”

Silence.

“Can you please let me know how long Ashk will be on leave?”

More silence.

“Do you know if he is, at the very least, doing alright?”

The new guard still didn’t respond.

That was fine. She could do this all day. Kusanali always found a way to make the sages break down and speak to her whenever she really needed something, whether it was in the Akasha or in person. She could be persuasive like that.

“If it’s amenable to you, please tell me your name! Within the Akademiya protocols under the sections discussing ‘security’, all within Sumeru have a right to be informed of their garrison’s names, titles, rankings, applicable certifications, current and prior affiliations –”

“Lesser Lord Kusanali,” the new guard said, keeping the same posture but turning his head to his side.

She smiled sweetly.

“Your previous guard has retired.” Her smile fell. “I’m your new permanent guard, scheduled for the day shift. As for m–”

Her heartbeat skipped some steps. Static filled her mind. Although muddled, she registered that the unfamiliar person was introducing himself, but she couldn’t bring herself to care right now. 

Ashk. Her dearest and only friend. He has taken a few sick days now and again, especially as he started aging, but he always came back.

A sickly feeling trickled into her stomach.

“Tell me everything you know about my previous guard. Immediately, please,” Her voice was quiet, but she spoke loud enough that it echoed throughout the room. Her new guard faltered.

“Sorry, Lesser Lord,” the man shrugged, apathetic. “That’s not any of my concern.”

“Then take me to him,” she said, sounding far too desperate for her liking, with hands trembling by her sides.

Shaking his head, the guard responded, “That’s against protocol. Under no circumstances is the Dendro Archon to be let out of the Sanctuary of Surasthana. Besides, this is my first day here, and I’m not going to jeopardize my new job for the whims of a false Archon.”

Tears enveloped her vision and she clenched her jaw. Usually, she waved aside the insolence that was thrown her way, but this was something that she would not tolerate.

An angry bale of dendro energy constricted her heart, and she irately wished that she could demand her guards and others at the Akademiya to do what she wanted, and not get in the way of visiting her friend –

The pressure in her chest exploded, and she crumpled to her knees, gasping.

There was a bit of pressure around her Akasha. She scratched at it -

Wait. Her hair wasn’t that short. And she didn’t remember her ear being this stubby.

Dazed, she looked up. The tile ceiling above was no longer obscured with the green film she normally peered through.

Did she somehow manage to free herself? Her heart raced at the thought. Did escaping somehow change her form?

No, that wasn’t it at all. She had tried unsuccessfully in the past to leave, but wasn’t strong enough to override the controls keeping her trapped. She needed to calm down. Think about this logically.

She stood up, using her too-long limbs to support herself, and turned around –

Only to find herself sleeping peacefully in the sealed verdant bubble behind her.

This wasn’t possible. Was the new guard currently occupying her normal and small body? Rukkhadevata didn’t have any powers like this, and she didn’t either, right…? Thoughts buzzed through her head, too slippery and liquid to grasp. This all felt wrong. 

Kusanali gingerly stepped forward, walking down the same path that she hadn’t crossed in decades. She stepped over the polearm that her guard - no, that she - had dropped, and paused a few feet away from the orb she had called home for years. On the bubble’s surface, the reflection staring back at her wasn’t her own.

(In her mind, she felt the soul of the new guard’s stir, unconscious. At least she didn’t have to worry about them possessing her in return.)

A trickle of electric warmth came from the unfamiliar Akasha on her ear.

Automatically, she raised “her” arm to touch the Terminal, willed herself to go back into her own body, and hoped that her new guard wouldn’t collapse onto the ground again.

Her vision flashed, and she found herself back inside of her bubble, lying down with her heart palpitating. The new guard was standing in front of her unsteadily, groaning.

“Ugh, my head,” the guy said, eyes squinted and clutching his temple. He seemed to vaguely become aware of his surroundings. “What am I doing here…?”

Kusanali scooted herself back. She felt more or less the same, but panicked.

He squinted at her. It looked almost like a glare. “...I apologize. It seems I’ve let my anger get the best of me.”

The guard walks back and picks up his spear before standing sentry, leaving Kusanali trying not to freak out. Fear shot through her as she wondered why the guard wouldn’t question having a moment of blind fury directed towards her.

Hurriedly, she sent a message through the Akasha to the sages, and within the hour, the guard was replaced with another (who, somewhat thankfully, actually greeted her this time).

With some of her anxiety quelled but her heart still aching, Kusanali fell asleep.

The dreamscape she was in felt welcoming.

The desert sand beneath her was toasty and firm, and distant mountains and pyramids lined the horizon. Overhead, the golden-orange sun rose above the haze of the clouds. An ordinary mudbrick hut stood a dozen or so meters ahead of her.

She heard a young girl laughing from inside it.

Gingerly, slowly, she walked towards its entrance. Despite its unfamiliarity, Kusanali was relaxed. There was something about it that made her feel… comforted. Like even if she hadn’t visited in a while, she would always be warmly welcomed.

Like she was home.

There was a straw mat in front of the entrance that was embroidered with desert flora. She stepped on it. It was scratchy, but in the way a well-worn canvas blanket was.

Kusanali knocked.

A man’s voice laughed, telling the girl to wait, but the door creaked open. A dark-haired toddler with familiar bronze eyes peaked from behind it.

The girl looked at her shyly, then smiled. Kusanali’s heart ached in recognition. “Hello! Are you one of Baba’s friends?” The small girl took a step back and widened the door. “Come in! Baba made tulumba, but he said I can’t have coffee, so we have milk too.”

A man from somewhere inside clicked his tongue. “Anahita, dear, what did I tell you about opening the door for strangers?”

“Sorry, Baba,” the young girl laughed, not sounding sorry at all. Kusanali stood frozen at the door.

It looked cozy. Small toys were scattered on various surfaces. A Corps of Thirty uniform was hung on the wall, directly across the entrance. Two large pairs of shoes were nestled near the door around a pair of tiny colorful ones.

“Come in, my guest, come in! You’ll get sunburnt if you stand out there for too long. Do you want some water, or coffee? I can make a fresh pot of shai if you’d prefer.”

Kusanali thought back to when she studied different Sumeran dialects. The Akasha only talked about them briefly and in footnotes, citing that exposure to improper pronunciations could ruin ones’ grammar. So she learned about them from someone else.

She exhaled, took a step inside the warm, mudbrick hut, and closed the door behind her.

“Anahita, love, I won’t scold you if you invite one of your friends in,” a younger-Ashk said heatlessly, sitting by the table with a book in hand. His sandy hair was messily combed back, and his bronze eyes lay on his daughter, filled with a familiar level of love and affection that made Kusanali’s heart ache.

Anahita pouted. Her raven-colored hair was pushed back with a cloth headband, but was coming loose. “This is your friend though, Baba! You hang out with her all the time.”

“Is that so?” Ashk smiled kindly. (Kusanali saw confusion masked behind his expression. Most wouldn’t be able to tell, but she had known him for so long that she just knew.) “Well then, my dear guest, please come in, and help yourself to some snacks. My spouse left to do some research near Caravan Ribat, but they should be back in a few hours.”

She nodded, and sat by the table. Anahita was next to her, drawing on a sheet of papyrus with a coal stub.

The trio sat for a while. Time sat still, and contentment blanketed the room.

Kusanali tried some of the coffee. The cup she was drinking from was wooden, and she realized that Ashk was right - drinks did taste different when they weren’t stored in a flask. She sniffed, vision blurring. The drink was bitter, as coffee was, but it was familiar. Nostalgia rang through her, and she wondered if she would be able to have a drink made by Ashk’s hand in real life ever again. 

“My apologies, honored guest, but I don’t think I caught your name,” younger-Ashk said, bronze eyes awkward and apologetic.

She hesitated. She wanted to cry to her friend, saying she’s right here, and that she misses him. But she was afraid the fragile dream would break and that she would lose this time with him.

“...I’m your friend,” Kusanali settled on, throat tight.

Ashk whiffled, another moment of confusion lining his expression. But he shook it off, and grinned. “But of course you are! Here, help yourself to some ghorayebah - I made it fresh this morning! You know, I used to think I was an awful cook, but then I met my partner, and realized that if I didn’t use a recipe…”

Kusanali hung onto every word, woe and longing stirring her heart. Anahita sat beside her, humming and swinging her small feet while drawing childlike versions of desert flora and fauna. All the while Ashk talked on and on about anything and everything that crossed his mind, the world around them fluttering gently.

If her suspicions were correct, her friend didn't have much time left. Whatever illness overtook him either onset quickly, or one that he had for a while but kept a secret from her. She didn't know which was worse.

(She didn’t want this dream to end.)

The edges of the world faded slowly, and Kusanali could sense that Ashk’s consciousness was stirring.

(She didn’t want him to go.)

The younger version of Ashk was smiling and laughing, with no trace of hardship or trauma visible on his soul. His daughter lightly laughed beside him. Unmarred sunlight spun around the home.

(She didn’t want Ashk to die.)

Kusanali once wished that she was human. If not to understand them better, then to have others treat her as an equal or as a friend.

This was not one of those times.

One of the perks of being born a god was that she wasn’t restricted to live as humans do. She didn’t need to eat as often, or sleep frequently, or move around to ensure that her physical health didn’t deteriorate.

So, she slept.

(Kusanali briefly considered possessing another guard or a member of the Akademiya to visit her friend, but she shuddered at the thought. She didn’t want to force anyone to do something against their will, and she wanted her friend to know it was her visiting.)

Ashk’s consciousness was fragile. Although he wasn’t always dreaming, he was never awake, either. She wished she could fix it, but knew her powers didn’t extend to changing fate.

When Ashk wasn’t in his dreamscape, Kusanali made sure to have her own dreamscape hover around his, so that she could jump into his at a moment's notice.

She accompanied him during the various echoes of his youth. Kusanali played with a child version of Ashk, who got bullied a lot, was prone to tears, but was oh so kind to everyone. 

She learned he had always been quite the rebel, too. He snuck food out of the kitchen to feed the desert foxes near his home, played around with his uncle’s polearm if no one caught him, and frequently ran around past curfew but always came back with an “apology bouquet” that he made himself.

Teenage-Ashk was still playful, but far more driven. When he wasn’t goofing around or helping some of the adults in his village that didn’t hate his guts, he spent much of his time training, hoping to one day join the Corps of Thirty. Kusanali constantly gave him encouragement, and sparred with him to practice. (Polearms were practical and standard issue for several militia groups, but she decided that it was much more fun to use a catalyst.)

They met a young student from the Akademiya, and Kusanali teased a blushing teenage-Ashk after their conversation ended.

(Kusanali never left Ashk’s side for the most part, but she gave teenage-Ashk space to hang out with his future partner. It was sweet, watching the two love birds interact. Even if she knew how their story ended, it warmed her that their love was never forgotten.)

Young-adult-Ashk was much of the same person, but more comfortable and confident in his skin. Kusanali was proud of her friend. Even if the villagers from his hometown sometimes threw him nasty looks, and even if the people of the Akademiya ignored him or glared at the couple with disdain, Ashk’s bright smile never dimmed.

The flower crown he wore on his wedding day complimented his warm skin and sandy hair. His partner’s flower crown was aslant, and Kusanali couldn’t help but laugh each time Ashk straightened it for them.

She watched Ashk and his spouse cry tears of joy once they signed the adoption papers, and swaddled baby Anahita into a hug for the first time. 

She watched the life they lived for the few brief years afterwards, and yet again wondered if this dream - if Ashk’s happiness - could have continued in reality if she didn’t come into existence.

The sounds of rainforest ibises trilled under the starlit sky. The crisp scent of adhigama wood surrounded the land, and she breathed.

Kusanali was standing in the middle of a village. All but one of the houses around her were dark. She walked towards the one lit with flickering candlelight, and knocked.

“Come in!” a light voice said. Kusanali stepped into the sparsely-furnished house and closed the door behind her.

“Hello, Baba’s friend!” Anahita grinned at her. This version of Ashk’s daughter looked around her own physical age, but was a little taller. Her hair was tied into small twintails that curled at the ends. “If you’re here to see Baba, you can’t right now. He’s protecting Sumeru from the bad guys!”

Kusanali nodded and sat on the floor across from her. Wooden blocks were scattered on the floor around them; some were stacked neatly into structures, while others were lined side-by-side.

It was Sumeru, she realized. A far more blockier version of the maps she was familiar with, but it was her nation nonetheless.

“We’re right here,” Anahita pointed at a red vulture plush, positioned in the northwest region of Vissudha Field. “And Baba’s right here!” she said, pointing at a wooden carving of a sumpter beast. It was stationed on top of a pile of blocks, which Kusanali recognized as the mountains west of Port Ormos. “We haven’t seen him in weeks, but we miss him a lot.” The girl was smiling, but looked worried nonetheless.

“Don’t worry about him too much,” Kusanali said, patting the girl’s shoulder. “He’ll be okay; I promise.” The station Ashk was at had a strong defense, and it survived relatively unscathed by the end of the war.

The location they were at, though… This was the place where various safehouses and refugees went during a particularly rough patch of the war.

The place where Ashk left his daughter and partner to die.

“How can you be so sure?” Anahita’s expression was sorrowful. “You’ve been gone for weeks too.”

A chill creeped down her spine, and the candlelight flickered. “Yes, I suppose I have.”

“Miss, I think you need to wake up,” Anahita whispered. Kusanali swallowed.

No one in Sumeru needed her. And it was hard to keep track of how long dreams were when she didn’t keep track of when she needed to wake up. But she didn’t want Ashk to be alone, even if he didn’t recognize her. So it didn’t matter if she’s been asleep for weeks. She’s been right where she’s needed the most.

“I’ll wait for Ashk, no matter how long it takes him. He’s my friend. I won’t leave him.”

Anahita’s bronze eyes flickered with the candlelight. There was something different about this version of Ashk’s daughter. “He doesn’t have much time left.”

“He survives after this. If I don’t see him now, I can always see him later.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Yes, I will!” she cried out, unbothered by her tears. “He still has some time, and I can wait for as much time as he needs.”

“This isn’t healthy for you, Kusanali,” Anahita said, sounding heartbroken. “You might not be human, but you need to take care of yourself too.”

She wanted to deny that so bad. But fatigue had long since carved itself into her bones, and mournfulness has been gripping her heart taut. She needed to rest. But…

“...I can’t. Not yet. Not while I still have the chance to say goodbye.”

The dreamscape quieted to a hush.

“Kusanali,” Anahita said, whispering sadly, and Kusanali couldn’t remember a single moment where she gave her name to anyone in her friend’s dreamscape. “Ashk’s time is running out, and you won’t be able to see him in this world anymore.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?” she sobbed. Her breathing became labored, and she choked on air and her racing thoughts. “Who else am I supposed to talk to?”

Anahita wrapped her in a hug, and all Kusanali could do was cry, and cry, and cry.

“There, there,” the familiar woman in Anahita’s form said, stroking her hair. The motion was comforting, and her heaving breaths slowed.

She curled next to the girl, suddenly exhausted. “Ashk is still alive, right? Do you know if he’s in any pain?”

“I can promise that he’s still alive, and not at all in any pain. He’s at Bimarstan, receiving the highest level of hospice care that one can get.”

Kusanali sniffled. “But has anyone visited him? Is he alone?”

Steadily, slowly, the hand kept stroking her hair. “There is a constant rotation of doctors and nurses ensuring his comfort and checking on him. However…” she paused. “I don’t think you’d want me to answer that honestly.”

She didn’t.

“Why haven’t you gone to see him?” the woman said. “I’m glad you two were able to spend time with one another in dreamscapes, but… it’s different than in person.”

She looked around the candlelit room. It was a perfectly preserved version of the safehouse that Ashk had remembered leaving his family in. But that was just the problem - it was perfect. There were no signs of everyday wear and tear, and unlike their friendship, it was free from any faults that existed within it.

But what else could she do about it? She couldn’t leave the Sanctuary. No matter how hard she begged or pleaded to escape, she wasn’t allowed. She was too weak; this was all she could do.

“Do not put yourself down, Buer. You’re more powerful than you know.”

Kusanali pushed herself up, helplessness racking through her. “I’m really not, though. If I were, then I would be able to freely roam around by now, and Ashk wouldn’t be all alone in Bimarstan.”

Anahita - no, Rukhadevata - reached out to hold her hands. Anahita’s oh-so-familiar bronze eyes twinkled at her. “You’re aware that you possess a power that I do not. Why not use it?”

Thoughts of a green cage came to mind. “I don’t wish for anyone to feel trapped because of my selfish choices,” Kusanali said.

“Then don’t just use ‘anyone’. Use someone who won’t be trapped at all. Think: among the people of Sumeru, who is meant to serve others and doesn’t mind the prospect of an adventure?”

Understanding dawned on Kusanali’s mind, and she saw Anahita smile in front of her.

“May your future dreams be sweet, O Dendro Archon. And may the memories of your friends last a lifetime.”

Silvery moonlight flowed overhead, and the dulcet voice of her night guard’s singing echoed throughout the room.

Kusanali woke up on her side, stiff and parched. She sat up, stretched, and reached for the flask of water that Ashk always made sure to keep filled.

This was life, she supposed. Like a tree that falls in a forest, whether silently or not, its impact would be felt for the eternity to come.

She closed her eyes and meditated, doing her best to parse through the minds connected to the Akasha.

The singing night guard’s mind was relaxed but alert. He was eager to visit a tavern once his shift ended.

The minds of several students were alight, even at this late hour. They were working on their research, or prepping for exams, and Kusanali hoped that everything went well.

Many were fast asleep and exploring dreams that they would soon forget once they woke up.

Then - there. The mechanical and tranquil mind of Katheryne came into her view.

“Hello, Miss Katheryne,” Kusanali said. Her voice warbled strangely in Katheryne’s mind.

Katheryne’s mind whirred. “Lesser Lord Kusanali. It is an honor to meet you,” the synthetic human responded. “Although, perhaps it is more apt to say it is an honor to think of you.”

“That’s definitely a more accurate turn of phrase.” Kusanali smiled, some of the worry she held loosening. “I had a request for you. Do you mind hearing me out first?”

“Go ahead,” the automaton responded.

She told Katheryne about Ashk’s situation, her ability of possession, and her inability to leave the Sanctuary.

“That’s odd,” Katheryne said, frowning. “I have nothing in my database regarding the dangers that a god may experience in the world. As far as I’m aware, even the Cryo Archon was allowed to roam freely upon her arrival.”

Kusanali’s lungs constricted. It might have been out of jealousy. “That may be so, but if it is in the people’s will for me to remain in the Sanctuary of Surasthana, then I shall stay there.”

She felt Katheryne’s mind quietly object, but she didn’t speak up.

“Are we in agreement, then?” Kusanali asked hesitantly.

“Of course, Lesser Lord Kusanali. Take as much time as you need.”

The moon was positioned high in the sky, and Kusanali didn’t think that stars could be this dazzling outside of dreams.

The scent of petrichor, earth, and the sea wafted through the streets. It smelled both salty and sweet, very much overwhelming, and unlike anything she had experienced in a dream.

It was wonderful.

Shaking her head, she unlatched the door to her right. It swung open with no resistance.

Ashk was still alive. But she wasn’t sure for how much longer.

With steely determination, she set off to see her friend, ignoring the sights of Sumeru that she had longed to see in person for her whole life.

Bimarstan was quiet this time of night.

She said as much to the receptionist, who offhandedly said that most of the staff had retired for the evening. The receptionist also mentioned that visiting hours were technically over, but didn’t fight Kusanali when she said she was there on “official Adventurers’ Guild business”.

Kusanali quietly walked down a hallway leading to the hospice ward. She passed by sounds of muffled crying, of hushed comfort, until she reached the entrance to a silent room.

She stood in front of the door, somewhat hesitant to go in.

If Ashk didn’t recognize her, she couldn’t blame him - she did have the appearance of Katheryne, and possession was a power that seemingly belonged to fiction. And although family members typically sat vigil around a loved one, it wasn’t uncommon for friends to visit either…

Kusanali opened the door.

The curtains were tied back, and a view of a moonlit rainforest stretched behind the window. A silver-haired man was lying on the bed facing it, but turned to face her once she stepped inside.

“Good evening,” her friend said weakly, smiling up at her. Ashk’s face was wrinkled and dotted with sunspots, and a certain frailness strung his frame, but his bronze eyes glittered the way they always did.

If Katheryne had tear ducts, Kusanali would have been sobbing by now.

“Good evening,” she murmured. She lowered her head in respect, and moved a chair to sit next to him.

If Ashk looked surprised by her actions, he didn’t show it. “I haven’t entertained a visitor in a long while, so I apologize for not having anything to serve you.” 

“It’s alright. I wouldn’t have expected you to.”

Ashk laughed hoarsely, but it quickly shifted into a string of coughs. Kusanali grabbed a cup on the nightstand and filled it with water from the pitcher beside it. His coughing subsided, and she raised the glass to help him take a few sips.

“Thank you, love.” 

Kusanali missed being in her friend’s company so much it hurt.

“By the way,” Ashk looked at her, a small grin on his tired face. “I’m glad you managed to find a way to visit me after all this time, my dear Lesser Lord.”

She blinked. Then again in disbelief. Then she laughed. “How did you know it was me?”

He moved his open hand next to hers, and she held it. “For starters, it’s definitely not Katheryne visiting me, even if you look like her. We’ve never held a single conversation with each other. Also,” he said, gently squeezing her hand, “I don’t have any family alive who would visit.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Kusanali smiled. Then her face frumpled into the expression she gets before she starts sobbing, but again - no tears.

“Love, please don’t cry on my account,” Ashk said. “Because if you start, then I will, and I don’t want to spend a day with you crying, okay?”

She nodded, trying to calm herself down.

“Good. Now, do you want to know what I was looking at right before you came?” Kusanali shook her head. “This is going to sound strange, and almost impossible, but I was looking at my daughter.”

She frowned, then looked outside. The only things she could see from the window were the distant mountains and stars surrounding the forest, but nothing more. Hallucinations wasn’t one of Ashk’s symptoms, was it?

“Not like that, my dear,” Ashk laughed gravelly. “I was looking at the planet Venus. I told you long ago that I named her after the fictional goddess, yes? Well, that water goddess did have traits of wisdom and healing, but was also associated with that planet. It’s so bright that one can almost mistake it for another star.”

Kusanali nodded.

“And it got me thinking - although I didn’t get a chance to raise my little Anahita, I was so, so fortunate to have gotten the chance to raise you.”

“Raise… me?”

“That’s right,” Ashk chuckled, awkward, as he had in the past. “This sounds cheesy, but let a man on his deathbed air out his sentiments, yes? You reminded me so much of Anahita, and I did my best to give to you what I couldn’t for her. This is wishful thinking on my part, of course, but…”

Ashk coughed again, and she helped him drink some more water.

“Bah. Stupid organ failure.” he rasped out, wearing a humorless smile. “At the very least, I consider you to be family at this point, you know?”

“I do too,” Kusanali whispered.

An endearing smile grew on his face. Strands of silver hair fell in front of his thin face, and she brushed a few strands out of the way.

“I’m not sure if you remember this conversation,” Ashk said, face tight with thought. “But we once had a conversation about nicknames, a long time ago.”

“I remember that pretty well,” she said. “You gave Naranji to me that day, and I named her.”

“That you did,” Ashk squeezed her hand. “And you looked so sad when I mentioned that only family or friends give nicknames to each other.”

“It’s alright,” she said. “A lot of people stick to the name they’re first given, correct? I don’t mind that at all.”

“Still, I regret it. When I said it, you looked so sad and alone. I wanted to take back what I said instantly, but I didn’t know how.”

“Ashk, please don’t worry about that; I’m fine, and we’ve had plenty of other moments that more than made up for it.”

His eyes glazed over, and for a moment, he looked lost. Then he turned his head towards the starlit window.

“Did you know,” Ashk said, uncharacteristically doleful, “that the planet Venus inspired the myth of Anahita? It's strange that this pearly planet looks as fiery red as Mars... It’s such a peaceful celestial body. It is one that is meant to provide growth and healing and wisdom, but it has seen and survived the horrors of war that only few become acquainted with. It was also seen as an omen for upcoming struggle, but also survival.

“Anahita didn’t survive,” Ashk murmured. “But you did, my dear, and I know you’ll be able to survive the upcoming conflict as well.”

Kusanali’s felt like she was shaking. (She wasn’t, because Katheryne’s body didn’t respond to emotions in that way, but she felt like she was.) “I don’t know how I can do that,” she said. “I’m not strong enough, and I don’t have enough experience -”

“But you will survive,” his voice was firm. “I know you. You’re becoming stronger every day, and I need you to start trusting yourself.”

“But the sages -”

“Bah. Curse the sages. They may have power, but they don’t care. You, however, do. And that is the greatest strength you can leverage.”

Ashk’s bronze eyes looked more tired than Kusanali remembered, but they had the steel of determination behind them. She wordlessly nodded at him.

He sighed, then closed his eyes. “Please don’t forget this, love. Okay?”

“Alright,” she said.

Distantly, she heard the trilling of rainforest ibises.

“I believe I was trying to make a point when I began this conversation,” Ashk said. His face was pinched in concentration.

“Please don’t strain yourself.” Kusanali grasped his hand, “You don’t have to remember anything if you can’t.”

“That’s right,” he mumbled. “The word for Venus in my village was ‘Nahida’.” Ashk opened his eyes. “If I had to turn back time and give you a nickname, it would be just that. Nahida.”

Her heart ached, but she simultaneously felt light.

“You don’t have to use it if you don’t want to. But it could be a nice nickname for your friends to call you by, yes?”

“I’ll use it,” she said quietly. “But only if you do as well. It would feel wrong otherwise.”

“Alright then, my dear Lesser Lord. My Nahida,” Ashk smiled at her. His crow’s feet thinned, and she could almost pretend he was as young as he was when they first met. “Thank you for visiting me in my dreams. And thank you for growing into the lovely person that you have become.”

The navy sky lightened to azure, and the stars faded as quietly as Ashk’s last breath.

Nahida stepped out of Bimarstan. The early morning sun shone overhead, and on any other day, she would have stood and admired it. Instead, she walked Katheryne back to the Adventurers’ Guild, thanked her, and woke herself up back in her room in the Sanctuary.

She held Naranji, curling into her threadbare friend carefully, and she let loose the flood of tears and grief that had welled up in her for so long. She wondered if she would ever feel happy again.