“Margot, perhaps you might want to try a rapier or a dirk.” He suggested as he spoke up. “You have a crossbow, but while a crossbow can be a very useful thing at a distance, it takes quite a while to reload. If an enemy were to rush you than you would need another method of defending yourself as you might not get another bolt off in time. A rapier is a very light blade and easy to maneuver with. It is more of a defensive or parrying type of weapon, but that might suit you better.” Tristan pulled the dirk at his waist out from the small sheath. “A dirk is a sort of thrusting dagger. It is a short blade so it is easily concealed, but it has a very short reach.” He explained. “Whatever you choose, you should choose something. You should always expect the worst.”

"I think he's right, Margot." Nimbus overheard them, as she was watching Chub go at his work. Nimbus was perched on the work-bench. Chub would need that place soon. Nimbus turned her Eagle eyes over to the fellow Copperian.

"Ranged weapons are great, but ya have to admit, not all enemies sit back and take crap." She smiled. Nimbus was being encouraging, at least she thought so. The Golden Eagle wasn't one for the best of manner's so she just winged it.

"Hey, Tristan. If Jian is ever out and about, could I hop on your shoulder to?" It was a thought that crossed her mind. What if Jian wasn't around? He's the tallest one, so the most desirable to sit on, but Tristan was there to. Margot's shoulders may not benefit from Nimbus's claws. The feathered female couldn't ask this favor of her pretty pale comrade.

Nimbus’s question was one that took Tristan a little off guard, but he smiled gently as he nodded. “I don’t mind it.” He told his feathered companion.

Margot blinked and glanced between the two. “As pleasant as that sounds- I don’t much have the talent for such weapons. I’m not a warrior like the rest of you.” She stated somewhat dumbly. “I am a cartographer, a journalist, and a bit of a drifter. I have done just fine with my crossbow so far. I fear that if I take any other weapons I would hurt myself more than protect myself.” It was then she had a thought and reached into her satchel procuring a small journal. She leafed through a few pages before a look of both enlightenment and interest bubbled across her face. “It is as the old philosopher DeLa Martes once said: ‘a weapon wielded without knowledge does more harm than good- for what can you accomplish if you don’t even fathom the extension of your own self.’ It may not apply to actual weapons but it does have a point.” It was then she chuckled, “a point- hm- yes- no pun intended.”

It was then she returned her book and inevitably rummaged her hand around for something else lost within the folds of that satchel. “Ah- and I do have a hunting knife. If that helps?” Honestly Margot didn’t want to lambast them with her monetary troubles at the moment and so just attempted to verbally weasel her way around the obligation.

“If that is your choice then so be it, but I would not mind teaching you how to use such weapons.” Tristan suggested. “If you are uncomfortable with the notion then please do excuse me. It is your call, either way, Margot.” Tristan smiled gently.

It took a little longer than expected, but Nimbus got all her gear cleaned, sharpened, and ready to go. It was a fine job. The Golden Eagle expected nothing less. Chub was an old Blacksmith with many years of experience under that big wide belt of his. It was good fortune to have made a friend in him. To think he may not have been one she called friend made her shutter. The coldness of heart she may have had was really beginning to dawn on Nimbus. Maybe it was the Seed from Misene.

"Thanks Chub, but I suppose we should get going." She told him apologetically. Nimbus kind of grazed over briefly about seeing Magnus. Chub bid farewell to them and Nimbus hopped on Tristan's shoulder this time, by his leave of course. Her battle claws were retracted at the moment.

"Well, I'm ready." Nimbus spoke.

Tristan nodded. As he had told Nimbus before, he did not mind if she rode upon his shoulder. “Are you ready to go as well, Margot?”

“I have been for a while now.” Margot responded cheekily, but then offered a sincere smile. “Very well- I shall purchase a dirk if it makes you two feel better.” She stated as she picked up one with a nice and sleek blade, but a bulbous enough pommel that she could grip it with ease. It wasn’t too much, but maybe she would find use for it later on. Who knew- maybe it would be particularly good at whittling wood or cleaning her nails.

Though given their proximity to the next step in their mission- Jian had decided to take a respite. The understanding the world might end tomorrow sunk heavily into his bones, and he went to spend his final days with his children. There was much saying goodbye, but no tears shed- the feeling was understandable. Yet at his final farewell Misene’s seed left him and returned to nestle besides its’ brethren in Margot’s pack.

---

The City of Ebony wasn’t an expansive thing but formed a nasty silhouette in the horizon. The Temple of Ebony was a shining beacon amongst it all- spires of pure darkness with a doorway that opened into a resounding yawn upon the city. It wasn’t guarded at all- even if the insides of it held countless treasures of this periphery of the world. One wouldn’t dare take from God of Ebony unless they cared to be hunted for the rest of their life. A stalwart deity, but not without a heavy application of power.
Either way- given the ease that one could waltz into such a place they would find themselves amongst the hallowed halls of one of the last bastions of their civilization. Not a soul whispered down the dark marble floors, and the countless doors that were between our gallant adventurers and the god were locked quite tightly.

Yet there was one at the end of the hall- a massive two paneled thing with brilliant silver knobs and ancient filigree. There was a man that stood before this entrance. He had a massive silver gilded helmet that obscured his eyes before swooping up into two horns that curled much like a rams around his face. That skin of his was as dark as night without a single blemish or marking on it to alter it otherwise. He was in the armor of the Ebon Guard, but instead of just having a sword like the others did- he held in his hand a massive pike that thrummed with an ethereal energy. When he went to speak- his tongue and teeth were as dark as his flesh, and offered little to break the monotony of his umber hue. “Speak your business,” he announced and left it there.
Margot went to open her mouth but found the pike pointed her at her lips. “Not you.” He responded briskly. “The others- especially this one- the Child of Silver.” That weapon slid to the side to Tristan out of curiosity and thought.

Not you? Tristan wondered why the man did not want to hear from Margot, but he spoke up all the same. “We have come in hopes of audience with Magnus.” He began. “We have come from Ivory, or…What is left of it. The lady Misene has tasked us with finding Janus the Liarsmith to learn more about the Dark Seed. We hope to stop it before it can cause more destruction than it has already caused. We have hopes that Magnus may know something, or at the least know where we may be able to find the Liarsmith.”

The guard glanced over the Silver denizen’s form, or at least one would assume considering that no one could make out their eyes behind the half-mask attached to his helmet. The weapon in his hand did not lower, and his aggressive stance didn’t at all falter. If anything those umber teeth only grit more in aggravation. “Do you play me for a fool?” The man hissed. “Not much time has passed since Ivory’s passing and you spill filth from your lips.” With that he pressed the blade of his pike closer towards Tristan’s neck. “The Dark Seed is coming, and you whelps get more and more adventurous with your lies. All trying to seek protection from Magnus.”
“But it is the truth.” Margot pleaded. Of course she realized how foolish it sounded a group of mixed travelers in the Temple of Ebony and beckoning an audience with the god under the notion that they were sent from Misene herself. Had it not happened to her- she would have dismissed it as well.

“I find that hard to believe.” With that he lowered his pike and glanced between the three of them. “Leave now and I won’t find provocation to place your heads upon the stakes lining the Liar’s Quarter.” It was common knowledge that the City of Ebony even for all its supine grandeur mounted the heads of thieves, criminals, and even dirty politicians for all to see. They valued honor above all and sought retribution against those that didn’t abide by it, and that in itself was a double edge sword.

Margot went to state something else- anything else- but found her head reeling painfully as another vision passed before her eyes. While she watched an expansive scene unfold it was only mere blinks of an eye for everyone else.

Misene’s laugh graced the viridian fields with their sloppy blades of grass and small pink painted flowers betwixt them. “Stop it Magnus,” she cooed. “Must you be like your brother so? He is the trickster. You are the stoic and unwavering one.”
The tight feeling of arms coming around her waist came next and a husky voice sung into her ear. “I was hiding in plain sight- you were the one that failed to see me.”
She floundered before she leaned into him and pressed the soft wave of her locks against his chest. “You hid in shadows you cheat. Is this the way you treat your people?”
Magnus grunted and placed a kiss atop her head. “I do like watching them squirm. And you as well- but in an entirely different manner.”

Margot gasped brilliantly and paused. “He likes watching us squirm. Magnus does.” She pressed her eyes against Tristan. Honestly she didn’t know what that meant or even how they were to use that in their advantage, but the memory showed itself for a reason she figured.

Tristan was unflinching even when the pike touched his throat. He stared straight ahead at the man, or would have if he were not blindfolded. He inclined his head a little after Margot spoke, confirming he’d heard her, but what did it mean?

Tristan tried a different method of seeing. He has this seed for a reason, right? He’d been chosen for a reason, and this had been the gift granted to him. He dipped into that seed to see what he might see, and if there might be anything out of the ordinary.

The world would fade from the conscious notion of mortal bodies that incased unseen seeds into one that was the truth behind that layer of façade. Tristan would see the vague outline of a being or at least the shape that they inhabited to mortal eyes. Within them he would see the seeds that formed the roots of this form, and how they spread out and dwindled more towards the porphyries of their form much like veins and arteries did. Margot had two seeds- one which defined her and another which snuggled up against that and on occasion touched her own. Nimbus would have three- one that seemed to define her, another which seemed to brace against it, and finally Misene’s which attempted to sit between the two in its’ glory.

When eyes are turned towards the guard before them- well his seed is nothing like the others. It is near painful to look at, and while the other’s faded near the end- it burns him through to the ends. Tristan wouldn’t be able to keep his power turned on for long, but honestly he didn’t need to look at the guard too much longer to know who he was- Magnus.

Tristan inhaled sharply as he turned his head away as if to shield his own eyes even though he was blindfolded. He stopped using his power immediately, for the light was simply too much. After a moment he turned back towards this guard. “For a God that presides over a city of honor; tricks and threats seem not to suit you, Magnus.” Tristan had a bold tongue despite the different between Magnus’ size and power and his own.

Nimbus had mostly listened and observed the goings on. Her blue gaze flicking occasionally to the pretty things in the place. But the Golden Eagle was intelligent enough not to be tempted to look things over. Her mercenary tendency to peek at goodies she might acquire for a job wouldn't be sated here. As the guard addressed Tristan Nimbus didn't feel the need to add to anything. The child of Silver hit the nail on the head. Yet, the guards irritating gruff response did make her feathers ruffle. Then Margot spoke that Magnus likes to see them squirm.

"Ugh, seems the type I guess." She mumbled.

When Tristan reached to use his seed from Misene, and spoke to the 'guard' so boldly as Magnus himself, the Eagle seemed just as indignant to this petty facade of a sentinel that Magnus took as his guise. What had prompted him to be so sneaky?

"Well what do ya say to that, Magnus?" Nimbus had known her companions for a short while, but her loyalties to them warmed up. For Nimbus, it was a kind of 'Ah hah! my friend figured you out'.

The guard hesitated for a moment, or at least it seemed like hesitation, before speaking again. He regarded Tristan and Nimbus with a bit of agitation to their words. “How very gallant of you to divine my presence and call me out on it, but I would watch that insolence in your tongues. Even if it is true about Misene having chosen petty mortals to carry on her task- I don’t much care about being sassed.” He gripped the stave of his with the brunt of his strength and slammed it into the ground- cracking the gorgeous marbling underneath him. With his freed hand Magnus gripped the edge of his helmet and drew it up. Dark locks fell from underneath the metallic head piece, and his eyes were finally revealed to all of them. They were as dark as the rest of his body, and the only variation in him was his pearlescent irises that caught the light in a feline manner.

Margot had to admit now that Magnus had revealed himself to them all he seemed- well- taller. Then again she painfully short herself, and that was only furthered by the fact that it was now revealed that he was a god. She could say that the entire spurt of height had to do with perspective.
Yet it didn’t. There seemed to be less shadow in that inky dark corridor, and more mass on Magnus’s form. One could easily rationalize that he could absorb darkness, or maybe he was reclaiming some of the power he dispersed outwards in an attempt to seem normal. Either way the man’s aura seemed to change almost immediately, and it was near suffocating to be in such a proximity to him. Those eyes bore into Tristan’s face, then to Nimbus’s avian features, and finally settled on Margot. The female Copperian squelched and attempted to slide behind their only male member. “So this is who she deemed suitable? I should rend your heads from your bodies and allocate her seeds elsewhere to better honor her memory.” It was then his grip tightened back around his polearm. “Actually I may do just that.”
Yet as those muscles flexed in his dark arms- he was halted by the sound of the door opening behind him. The entire need for secrecy and games became obvious as a small head poked out between the crack in the massive doors. It was a child. More so it bore a striking resemblance to Magnus except with lighter features and sweetly stark white hair that fell from her head and was braided over her shoulder. She had small horns that curved around her rounded ears, and very light eyes that pressed into the trio’s forms. “Father- what is all the…” yet her words trailed off as she sprinted from her hidey hole straight to Nimbus’s form. “So pretty,” her arms looped around the giant eagle’s head. Magnus let out a long sigh and then glanced between the three. “Mise,” the god stated firmly. “Go back to your room.”

“No.” She stated with a brazen frown. “If mom wanted them to save the world- then- let them save the world.”
“So you were eavesdropping?”
“Not eavesdropping when I can hear you in my room.” She offered while still looped around Nimbus.
Magnus looked them over once again, and then offered a rather fatigued sigh from his lips. “Very well- what are you doing here?”

The change in atmosphere was not lost on Nimbus. The form of Magnus seemed to encroach on her mind like he was gripping it with the same strength in which he held his stave. That force of his might cracking the marble. As dire as the situation was, Nimbus had to bring a thought to her mind.

...I wonder who will fix that crack. Who breaks their own floor? Magnus I guess...

Yet his next words brought on the Golden Eagles face a deep fright within her. Take their seeds? Allocate them? Flashes of memory stirred in her mind. Magnus meant just the seeds Misene gave them, but stealing seeds wasn't something she was a stranger too. Nimbus wished ever so much never to see a denizen have their seeds reaped again. The Eagle fluttered a little in the air, considering to flee for the fear of witnessing such a thing. But, as soon as that little voice sounded, Nimbus let herself stand on the floor, off of Tristans shoulder for the moment. The Copperian flicked her gaze to Magus for a second, before she felt little arms wrap around her neck.

"Um." Nimbus didn't pull away. She wasn't at all upset. Just unsure. This sweet girl was the daughter of Magnus and Misene? Well, it's a good thing she's taken after her mother in the good looks department! Nimbus noted the girl still holding on. She dipped her head, as to give a kind of avian hug. It was an attempt to show good will to the child. "Eh, hello." Nimbus, the battle Golden Eagle part-time mercenary, managed timidly. The girl still holding.

...She so sweet....So tiny...

"We are here to speak with you about Janus." Nimbus said, clearing her throat and tilting her head up to meet the gods eyes when he asked what they were doing there. Mise's hold not choking, but steadfast. "Do you, or don't you know anything about the Dark Seed? We got others to ask, so...yay or nay?"

Tristan’s heart skipped a beat at the idea of having his seeds ripped from him, for her knew all of which that entailed. His hand went to the hilt of his sword, but before the situation could escalate any further, they heard the voice of a child…

Her lineage surprised him even more than her presence. He turned back towards the sound of her voice; listening to her soft voice. Nimbus answered Magnus’ question in his distraction. Tristan hesitated for a moment before he pushed the blindfold back up onto his forehead so that he could look down at the child. He smiled a little at the sight of her and knelt down onto one knee. “Hello sweetling.” He greeted her softly.

He could see another child in his mind; children had always had a special place in Tristan’s heart.

Magnus brought his hand to his face in exasperation, and it was apparent that the entire situation was vexing to his nerves. First his daughter attaches herself to the winged Copper citizen, and now they were inquiring about Janus. Mise on the other hand was enjoying the attention and buried her face in the soft downy feathers of the eagle and inhaled deep the smell of the sky. “Hello,” she stated into the swath of Nimbus’s flesh and feather. It was then she pulled back to see Tristan and smiled. “Pleaure to meet you- I am Mise.” She detached herself for a moment to offer a deep curtsey before attempting to bury herself into Nimbus’s chest again. Yet before her teetering steps could get close- Magnus reached out and pinched her up by the back of her shirt. Those little feet dangled in the air before she realized that she wouldn’t be going anywhere soon and then Mise curled into a rather adorable pout.

Margot couldn’t help herself. “Awe,” she breathed somewhat sweetly, and hugged her pack to her body. There was something about the entire scene that made the seeds that were buried beneath begin to feel warm in her grasp.
“Just because you have discerned my identity and my daughter as seemed to take a liking to you- doesn’t mean you can speak so informally to me. I am still a god.” With that he turned and the doors before him swooped open. The room that came to light before them was the Ebony Throne room. The floor was in the same vein as the rest of temple- dark black but there were thicker veins of glittering dark material running through them. This became more and more uniform until the steps up to the black throne seemed to be made entirely of the material. The room wasn’t overly gaudy beyond these small flourishes. The ceiling above them was made of glass and shown the glittering blackness of the Ebony sky to all the onlookers. The walls were decorated in thick vellums of glittering black material that seemed to give the impression that all around them were ethereal waves of shining darkness amidst all the solid black landscape.
The only touches of color that emanated from the room was a small feminine throne next to his rigid dark one that seemed to house Mise, and over that laid a silken blanket that seemed white as snow and just as soft. The young girl wrested herself from her father’s hold bolted towards her chair, and took no time wrapping herself in the white cloth- only allowing for her eyes to shine through.

Magnus laid his weapon against the side of the wall- the sheer weight of it became apparent as the bottom beveled part of the stave indented the floor with its mass. Yet any imperfections that appeared on the floor and upon the walls seemed to disappear just as quickly as they were formed. Magnus didn’t greet any of this with a smidgen of concern, and instead turned himself towards the three that were his current audience. “It would make sense that Misene would send you after Janus- he was supposed to house the Dark Seed.” Magnus took a seat upon his throne in a stately manner- not offering anyone else a seat. “But the matter of this fact is that no one has seen or heard from him in over a hundred years. I share a bond with him, and I haven’t felt it shudder in countless years. It is fair to say that he can exist without exercising his powers, but it is quite unlike him.”
Mise then offered a soft pout. “I miss Uncle Janus- he would always bring the best presents.”
Magnus ignored his daughter’s words and instead brought his hands to his chin in thought. “I figure that you will soon enough find a home for those seeds and you will have to considering what difficulties you will face attempting to unearth Janus. The next order of business should be finding a reliable source for Janus’s position. I have a few suggestions: Hastian- considering he received his Wife’s abilities to be able to find travelers he might be able to find Janus. There is also Lira the seer- though I don’t believe she can pinpoint her visions to locate Janus, but mayhap she can draw certain conclusions from them.” It was then his hands slid from his chin and rested firmly in his lap. “Then there is Fathom- it is just outside of the Ebony City. It is the culmination of dead souls, and it contains each of their visions from birth until death. There might have been one of them that has seen Janus- but- ah- getting an answer from it will be difficult.”
“Fathom likes presents.” Mise offered.
Magnus jerked his head around to his daughter and sighed. “I’m not surprised to you talk to that one.”
“Yes- the shinier the better, but it also has to be something that it can enjoy without needing any of its’ senses.” It seemed as if Mise had played this game before and not come out ahead- but at least managed to understand what Fathom would like.

“Apologies if I have given offense…” Tristan murmured, hesitating in returning his blindfold over his eyes yet, watching Magnus as he entered the next room. Tristan entered after him, though he kept a little bit of a distance. He listened in silence to all of Magnus suggestions…Tristan did not put much faith in seers; visions were oft subjective, or so he had heard, but Fathom and Hastian…Those may be reliable sources – if they could get information.

Tristan took a moment to ponder over Fathom…Try as he might though…Something shiny, but it mustn’t require the senses? Finally he shook his head. “What sort of things have you tried, Mise?” He asked softly, hoping to get an idea in the right direction.

The girl was a kind one. So polite as well. That curtsey for Tristan was the envy of Nimbus who caught herself wondering how she would look doing that. No, no. The Golden Eagle was a bird of prey, what need does she have for those little pleasantries? That's for the bipedal beings. A creature such as herself had other ways of expressing a hello. Still, it was sweet to see her do that. Nimbus wouldn't admit it, but she was looking forward to another hug. When Mise was pulled up in Magnus's hold, the Copperian would have pursed her lips if she had them.

“Just because you have discerned my identity and my daughter as seemed to take a liking to you- doesn’t mean you can speak so informally to me. I am still a god.” With that he turned and the doors before him swooped open.

“Touchy, touchy.” Nimbus whispered to Tristan when she got back onto his shoulder. “What a grumpy god.” she chuckled. It was clear Nimbus wasn't acquainted with the formalities of respect like that. To her, you earned respect before she gave it. As her eyes swept over the scene of the place around them, she had to wonder...So much glittery black. Was this a statement?

After Mise took her place, and Magnus too, Nimbus seemed to smile at the little one peeking out from her blanket. So cute. Her throne was certainly more pleasing. The Golden Eagle thought the weapon of Magnus excessive. Unless it meant something, it seemed odd that a god would keep such a thing. What god relies on a weapon like that? When Magnus mentioned it made sense to find Janus, Nimbus refrained from saying 'Uh, yeah, we figured as much.' In her sarcastic way. Wasn't it obvious that the one who housed the Dark Seed would be the one to seek anyway? Even if Misene hadn't mentioned him, it would be foolish not to look at him first. Magnus seemed a grumpy obvious god, yet some how...intriguing and oddly fun. Or at least to poke fun at...eh, that may not be so nice. But then again, he wasn't the most polite. No seat was offered to them, how rude!

“But the matter of this fact is that no one has seen or heard from him in over a hundred years. I share a bond with him, and I haven’t felt it shudder in countless years. It is fair to say that he can exist without exercising his powers, but it is quite unlike him.”

….or maybe he's just avoiding you... This was quietly thought to herself. But, oh, how much she wanted to say it. Still, she had to consider that he was more powerful then them and it wasn't like that would help the situation.

Nimbus was surprised to hear that Mise seemed to like Janus. Maybe the Liarsmith is not so bad. How can a sweet one like her like a jackass? But, maybe he was being an evil deceptive jackass. Could the Copperian be being a little cynical? Yet here they are in this mess, and it's probably his fault, the jerk! Still, they don't know the whole story, so no need to be so harsh. However he's an ass if he's hiding away if he did this! Although, they can't accuse him of anything unless they know the truth.

So goes the thoughts in the Golden Eagles head.

Nimbus didn't know if they would find owners for the seeds, but she was going to see how things play out. Hastian was a good bet. Finding travelers. But did that mean people on the move? What if Janus isn't traveling? Then there was Lira. Seers were interesting. Could be something there. Margot was getting some awesome helpful visions, why not Lira? Fathom was mentioned after those two, and Nimbus seemed to grumble a little at first. Tristan asked a good question, but Nimbus was dissatisfied with the situation. The information they would get at the least, was what not to give to Fathom as a shiny thing he can enjoy without using his senses.

“So, it's going to be 'difficult' to speak with him, but not impossible. The present can't be the only thing that might tempt an audience with him, otherwise you would have mentioned it being the only way.” Nimbus said, then added. “Unless that shiny thing is the only way, and...” She was going to say. 'And your daughter was quick witted enough to say so...where were you?'

“I know.” Nimbus spoke with a smirk. “We'll tell him we gave him his shiny thing, but, he just doesn't realize it, because he can't sense it.” Nimbus chuckled as a joke, really. “Or are we talking about his sense of mind? And not his sense of smell, taste, touch, hearing, and sight? In that case, get him drunk. I bet he'd lose his senses then, amma right? We can hand him a shiny thing when that happens." She chucked again, then sighed with adding "Or do gods even get drunk?” She wondered as an after thought.

Then Nimbus shrugged and said. "Sorry, sorry. Go on Mise, what have you given Fathom before?"

Margot’s brow did a rather pretentious spike when Nimbus started rambling, but she said nothing to dissuade the eagle in her words. Yet she did bring up a solid point. What senses were they talking about? Taste, sight, sound, touch? Or a conglomeration of all of them? Fathom was an enigma. Margot would have rather of gone with Hastian considering her allegiances to him, but she ventured an internal guest if Janus hadn’t popped his head out by now then he definitely hadn’t been traveling the roads. She wanted nothing to do with Lira- pretentious and pretty Malachites with their songs of harmony, peace, and docility. So Fathom seemed to be the most viable option if only for the fact that it is the closest one.

Mise smiled. “Starlight.” She weaseled her head out of the wrap of white linens and smiled. “That is its’ favorite of all the presents. It especially likes it when it can see the stars against the Endless Sea. Meaning there need to be stars above and stars below.”
“That is a common phenomenon here.” Magnus assured to the non-Ebony citizens.
“But you have to claim it as your starlight.” Mise stated firmly- as if her father was too daft to understand what she was implicating. “Tell it you moved the clouds for it, and if it is in a good mood it’ll tell you whatever you want to know. Just know,” an ominous tone shrouded the youth’s voice. “It is the souls of dead gods. Don’t bring up anything that might remind it of its’ past- or it’ll get sad.”
“And violent,” Magnus frowned. “Fathom can cause storms- emotional storms that can drive mortals crazy. It is all the pent up thoughts and feelings that are buried inside of it. Mortals rarely ever die happy.” With that he slowly stood and glanced over at Mise before looking at the three that stood before them. “So avoid using ‘Dark Seed’ in your conversation- just stick to Janus or the Liarsmith if it seems too testy with that.”
It was then Mise popped out of her blanket and strode to the middle of the throne room. “Can I take them there daddy?”
Magnus didn’t flinch- he had expected this. “I would say no- but you go there all the time, and if you come right back there will be no issue.”
The last half of his sentence was nearly cut off with a long and piercing: “yay!”
“Right back though.” The man reiterated.
“Yes sir.” Mise saluted somewhat comically to her father, and Magnus smiled softly.

It was then she nodded. “I can transport everyone there- it is my power. I of course have to come back- so you’ll be on your own after that. But you can manage- yes?”
“They can.” It was then Magnus placed his hands on his hips and frowned. “Though if I have a wave of angered emotions shroud the Ebony City I will find you and rend those seeds from your chest.”
“Are you ready- anything else?” Mise pretended to ignore her father and instead smiled brightly.

Starlight didn't seem like something a person wouldn't use their senses to enjoy. But hey, if it works, why complain? Nimbus was happy to know there was something they could do, at the least. The warning not to make Fathom sad, or perhaps even angry, was a little concerning to Nimbus. The Golden Eagle had some bad habits of saying something that might tick someone off. She hoped she could keep her beak from slipping up. The idea of having her seeds rendered sent chills up her spine. Mise's voice brought her back to the issue at hand.



“Are you ready- anything else?” She asked. Nimbus smiled, and shook her head.


“Couldn't be more ready, little Dove.” Nimbus said, thinking she was just as white as a Dove. The Copperian looked to her companions from her perch on Tristans shoulder. It was likely that they were ready too.

Starlight? That was not what Tristan had expected, but if that was what worked than so be it. He listened quietly to Magnus and his daughter, and offered the young girl a smile when she asked if they were ready. “We’re ready, sweetling.” He told her gently.

Mise giggled and nodded. “It’ll only take a second,” she remarked as she shut her eyes. Those small lips of hers began to form silent words and her digits clasped between each other in a clamshell pattern. Margot didn’t quite know the importance of all the precedence- considering Talents worked without any provocation- but then again she didn’t know much about gods or godlings. Magnus stood and glanced over the group, and the small Copperian’s attention shifted from his angelic child to the boorish man. There was an odd look about his face as if he was stricken with fear and desire at the same time. Maybe- just maybe- the god was anxious. Margot could only assume that all his cruel words and snide remarks were just Magnus being a god, and not at all Magnus being a doting father. That brought a smile to her face a moment before the scenery changed.

Margot’s hooves went from touching the hard marble slab of the Temple’s floor to finding herself shifting wildly upon the dark sands of an ebon beach. Inevitably she lost her balance entirely and landed directly on her rear and consequently her tail. A bleating noise of panic and pain emancipated from her lips before she rolled to the side and began to hoist herself up.
The scenery around them was not what the Copperian woman would call a beach, and yet it was probably was the closest resemblance she could muster internally. The sands underneath their feet were similar to Magnus’s floor in the fact that they were a dark black with specks of glittering pearlescent, and yet they rose and fell like dunes across the beach line. The ocean was a inky cavernous pit that poured out before them, and betwixt the dank waves of nothingness were floating crystals that were as bright as snow. These were what Ebon Fishermen hunted. Why? Because they were worth lifetimes of wealth. These hovering minerals powered many of the City of Steels and City of Carnelians flying warships, they had allowed for the hovering High Houses in Ivory City, and in the Ebony City they were smelted into the walls and ground to keep the city slightly afloat so that they did not topple into the excavated caverns underneath.
They sky was still as black as it was in Ebony City- and there wasn’t a star in sight.

Margot was about to ask for Mise to explain what she meant by starlight but the small happy beacon of a girl was gone. Apparently her transportation talent was limited or she truly feared her father’s wrath in needing to linger in this place. Her eyes came to Nimbus and Tristan in a curious manner.
Yet before she questioned either of them her eyes came to the edge of the beach. There on that threshold between sandy ground and infinitesimal darkness was what one could call Fathom. It was a culmination of souls, and truly did look like it. Fragments of broken seeds swirled in a luminescent mist. It was no taller than a grown Carnelian, but most of its bulk was carried up top. It was almost as if the being was an un-chaotic tornado made of the purest lights and fragments of stars.
Oddly enough it did have a face. Margot had to assume that it was a gift from Mise considering the whimsicality of it. A set of five porcelain masks swirled within that syphon of souls: a happy one, a sad one, a blank one, a questioning one, and an angry one. It seemed to enjoy inflecting more than one emotion at once because it brought to the front the happy and questioning masks. “We are curious. Usually the Little One visits us in such a fashion. Who are you?”

Nimbus had heard Fathom speak, but at the moment she was steadying herself on Tristans shoulders. The man was standing, but she felt so weird after that teleportation, that she lightly flapped her wings in irritation of the movement before she folded them to her side. Her blue eyes swept the sight into memory. How strange. More black glitter...

"Uh, we are Margot, Tristan, and I am Nimbus." The Copperian spoke to him. "The Little One took us here..." Nimbus wasn't sure what else she could say, or rather, 'should' say.

Tristan breathed in deep when he felt the air around them change. He could smell the sea – the saltiness of it upon his tongue, and he could hear the crunch of the sand beneath his feet, the way he would sink in a little when he took a step. There were other ways to see, even without the use of his eyes.

When Tristan heard the new voice he turned his head towards the sound, listening. He dipped into his ability, seeing in this new way.

He was not quite sure what to say, and the introductions had been made. He waited and listened, waiting for this being to speak again.