“You know, I bet this whole situation could have been avoided if I’d just not offered to carry the triangle for Muir. It wasn’t like she could carry it! Maybe we wouldn’t have got mixed up in all of this nonsense, just left it with those pyramid-head fellas and been none the wiser.
“Oh well.”— Aether recording recovered from the ruins of Meriden, 399 4E, Quad-Manifold 139-B
Belarius crossed his arms. “Lady Xera, if what you say is true…”
“It’s preposterous,” scoffed Alteus. “You all know as well as I that the Seals prevent such a thing. Tis their very purpose!”
“Situations change, husband,” said Orissa. “Time marches on, as it were.” She shot a look at the elfin maiden fawning over Atarr. “One such example.”
Araneida turned her gaze to the Wavemother and pouted.
“And the Seals already break,” said Atarr, pushing Araneida’s searching hand from his bicep and pacing away from the woman.
“Be that as it may,” spat Alteus, “the Fatemistress’s visions are known to be…fickle.”
“Not this time, I fear,” mused Belarius. His gaze was hard, but directed aimlessly, the knight deep in thought.
“Then let us confront the boy! Show him the errors of his chosen path! There is but one of him and six of us!” Alteus’s voice thundered throughout the room.
“No!” Xera’s voice cut through the room like a whip, quieting the Stormbearer. She stood from her throne, all three of her eyes now open. “You must wait. To do otherwise…endangers my sight. He must not know of your involvement.”
“Given the circumstances, might we not rather tread an unknown path than one that leads where you say?” asked Orissa. “For once, he does appear to speak some sense.”
Atarr shook his head. “Let us trust in Xera. What must we do, Fatemistress?”
Xera cast her gaze over the assembled gods, a gaze that saw each of them in the now, and each of them through the eons yet to come.
“You must see your champions prepared for what is to come.”