Near the center of the continent, just west of the Jade Mountains, was a desert. Not an uninhabited desert - any number of tribes wandered its sands or built settlements around its oases. The fabled city of Candlehearth, with its gleaming copper roofs, stood near its heart, and the great trade city of Goldenport rested at its southernmost edge, where it abutted the ocean. Most of it, though, was simply desert, endlessly full of sand and rock. One of these rocks was Tableturn, a flat red mesa rising up out of the dunes. This one was notable because it was crowned with several more or less cylindrical spires of rock, which stood around its perimeter like the points on a crown. At some point in time, some waggish individual had observed that it looked like a great stone table that an irritated giant had flipped onto its back, leaving its legs pointing helplessly skyward, and the image had stuck. Ever since then, to the human world, at least, it had been known as Tableturn.
It had a good reputation. Travelers in the desert chose to make their camps there. Demons and bandits avoided it, storms passed around rather than over it, and frayed tempers were soothed in the coolness of its shadows. It was also tacitly understood that if you happened to meet a mysterious stranger sitting there on a rock by himself, you were very polite to him. Younger travelers believed that this was because of the law of the desert - that none of them would survive out there unless they took care of each other, whether they were friends or strangers. Older, wiser travelers knew that this was so, but that it was also true that sometimes even the gods got homesick.
Under other circumstances, Arima would have felt like a tourist.
He stood now at the edge of the mesa. It was bigger than he'd imagined it would be, and not as hot as he'd expected from a desert. A cool breeze blew over the place, defying all meteorological rules. The pillars loomed all around him, not nearly as tall as the Seven Pillars that had ringed his beloved city, but somehow just as imposing. He could sense the age on them, reminding him how terribly young and untried he was compared to so many of his friends.
There hadn't always been a Palace of the Gods. There hadn't always been a Heavenly City. In the very beginning, when the Old Ones still roamed the earth in great numbers and humanity was still figuring out what it wanted to do with itself for the rest of history, the gods had dwelled more or less among them. They had made their home here, on this distant and inaccessible rock, when there had only been a handful of them and a single geographical feature had been large enough to hold them all. When Chaos had stopped its endless churning and chosen to become a man so that he could be a proper brother to the little god he'd created, this was where he had been standing.
He was standing there now, looking grim and worried. Yumoto pressed close to him, clinging to his arm, although who was trying to comfort whom was anyone's guess. Also, there were the others. Fate and Chance might technically have been the most powerful entities in the universe, but that didn't mean they could afford to get reckless. Anyone sending them a note inviting them to meet privately for some vague purpose was obviously up to nothing good, and it would have been foolish to go into such a situation without backup. Kinshiro was there, of course, and Atsushi and Arima had insisted on coming with him. So had En, Io, Ryuu, and Akoya, who wanted a bit of their own back over the underworld stone fiasco. Even Wombat was there, and Gora's bird friend Hashibiro. Arima wasn't exactly certain what use a friendly marsupial would be in this particular situation, but he assumed any help was better than none.
And there were others there. Aki and Haru stood at the center of the mesa. One held Fate's axe cradled in his hands, where it shone like a sunbeam. The other cupped the underworld stone in his palms, where it glowed like the moon. A little green squirrel perched on Aki's shoulder.
"Well," said Aki, surveying the assembled company, "it would seem we have an audience."
"It's rude to show up to an event you weren't invited to," Haru grumbled.
"I suppose it's all right, just this once," said Aki. "After all, they'll want to know what happened."
"What is happening?" asked Kinshiro. "What are you two up to?"
"We're not speaking to you," said Haru sulkily. "You shot me."
"I was justified."
"You always think you're justified," Aki retorted. "You should think about how other people feel, for a change."
Gora said quietly, "Please, tell us what you're trying to do here."
Two sets of eyes turned towards them. The longing written across the twins' faces was difficult to bear looking at. Arima could feel the sickening pull of it, the sense of something that had once been good and true but had been warped almost to the breaking point...
And it went both ways, Arima realized. Even after everything that had happened, Gora still cared about them. He was sorry that they had strayed from the straight and narrow. He still held out hope that someday they would turn back from the path they'd chosen.
The moment where Gora's eyes met theirs stretched on and on. Arima saw the twins falter slightly, and he thought just for a few seconds that they were about to burst into tears and fling themselves into his arms. He wished they would. He had a feeling that would be better than anything else they might decide to do.
What he didn't expect was for Aki to ask, very softly, "Aren't you lonely, Gora?"
There was a moment of puzzled silence. No one else had expected that, either.
Almost dreamily, Gora said, "Lonely? Funny you should ask about that..."
"Everyone else here is afraid of you," said Haru. "They pretend they aren't, but they are. They're all afraid that you'll slip back into Chaos and destroy them, so they hide from you. Even your own brother is afraid. He worries all the time about you getting out of control again, you know."
"But we're not afraid," said Aki. "We'll love you no matter what. All we want is to be with you."
"That's all right, then, isn't it?" asked Yumoto. "You can be Brother's friends if you want to. You don't have to do anything else."
"No!" Haru burst out. "You don't understand at all! There is no place in this universe for us! We've tried. We worked so hard to be good enough, and we never were! The harder we tried to prove ourselves, the more you pushed us down!"
"That wasn't about you proving yourselves," Kinshiro snapped. "That was about you trying to overthrow the pantheon and get rid of all of us!"
"And whose fault was that?" Aki shouted back. "When we stayed out of the way like you told us to, you all looked down on us. You said we were purposeless and pointless, and that we never should have existed! When we tried to accomplish something, you said we were trying to get above ourselves and we needed to be destroyed! Nothing we did was ever good enough for you all!"
"You wanted us not to exist," Haru snarled, "and then punished us for having the nerve to do it anyway. But no more."
"That's right," said Aki, a wild light in his eyes. "Today, everything changes! We're all going to get what we want this time. You'll never have to be afraid of us or Gora ever again, because we're taking him and we're leaving."
"You can't do that," said Atsushi. "I mean, where would you even go?"
"To a new universe," said Haru proudly, holding up the underworld stone. "With this as a focus for our powers, we can create a new world."
"And with this," said Aki, holding up the axe, "we can cut ourselves and Gora free from our ties with this universe."
"You can't take my brother away!" Yumoto protested.
"We can and we will," said Haru.
"Don't worry," said Aki. "If we make the cut just right, you won't even remember he was ever here, so you won't miss him."
Gora shook his head. "Please, don't do this. This is wrong."
"But you want us to," said Aki. His voice was strangely gentle. "You can't fool us. Doesn't it hurt you, knowing that no matter how much you do for these people, no matter how kind you are, they'll never really stop being afraid of you? Wouldn't you like to finally be with people who'll accept you as you are?"
"Not like this," said Gora, but Arima could see they had hit a weak spot. How hard must it be, Arima thought, to live so many thousands of years in a world where no one could ever really feel like they could trust you? Even though Gora surely didn't want to leave his brother and his friends and the universe he loved, the idea of another life where people loved and accepted him unconditionally must have been just the tiniest bit tempting.
The twins could see it too.
"You see," said Haru, "you do want it, and so do we." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Resolutely, he repeated. "This is what we want."
"It is," said Aki firmly, "and now we're going to make it happen."
He raised the axe. There was a surge of forward motion as every member of their audience moved towards them at once, along with a ragged chorus of, "No, stop! Don't!"
Then the axe came down. It tore through the air with a rending sound, as though someone had just ripped the world's largest sheet of cloth in half. With the tear came a sudden wind, hot in the desert air. In the place where the axe had passed, there was now a dark hole in the world, and dangling and flapping around its edges were clusters of silvery strings. Arima had seen those only once before, when Gora had rewoven a young man's fate. They were the strings of possibility that held the universe together, and now they were coming undone. As the crowd watched in horror, the rent began to widen, growing longer and wider in the space of a few seconds as the threads unraveled. The wider it grew, the stronger the wind became, and Arima realized in sudden fear that this wasn't wind. It was suction, and it was pulling him towards the hole.
"What... what's going on?" Haru stammered.
"You really shouldn't have done that!" Yumoto wailed.
"We didn't mean..." Aki said. He stared at the steadily widening gap in terror.
"Don't just stand there!" Gora bellowed.
He rushed forwards and shoved the twins hard. They stumbled sideways, out of the direct path of the gap's suction. With both hands, he seized on some of the waving silver strings and began hauling on them as hard as he could. The expansion of the hole began to slow... but it was only slowed. It had too much momentum now, and even his great strength wasn't enough to stop it.
"Help me!" he shouted.
Everyone moved. Gods, beasts, all the assembled witnesses moved as one body to grab hold of handfuls of strings and pull with all their might. It felt to Arima as though he had handfuls of thin strong wire. They cut into his fingers, burning lines of fire across his palms, but still he hung on. Next to him, he could vaguely see all his friends pulling as hard as they could, faces twisted with exertion, sweat beading on brows. Wombat perched on Yumoto's shoulders, helping him haul a clump of the strings, and Hashibiro had them clamped in his powerful beak as he backpedaled with claws and wings. Ryuu positively glowed from the exertion, a fiery nimbus surrounding him, and Akoya's normally serene face was a warped mask of pain.
Only Aki and Haru stood apart. They lay crumpled on the ground where they had fallen, watching the struggle with expressions of fear and confusion. This was not what they had expected to happen, and now that it was happening, they had no idea what to do. Arima's deepest nature begged to be allowed to tell them, but there wasn't time now. He turned his attention back to the task at hand. Despite the combined efforts of the gods, the hole was continuing to widen at an alarming pace. Arima could see straight into the gap now, and inside the hole was...
Darkness. Arima had heard of the darkness. The gods talked about it sometimes, but never very much, and always with a sort of offhanded reverence, as though it were something too awesome to risk thinking about very deeply. He had always taken it as a kind of metaphor. This... was not a metaphor. It was something deeper than blackness, something with depth and texture to it, something full of tiny spinning specks and sparks. It took him a moment to realize those sparks weren't bits of dust floating nearby. They were very, very far away, and each one was an entire universe, and there were too many of them to ever count. This was the space between realities, and the world he knew was draining into it the way water drained out of a bucket with a hole in it. He realized, too, that if their world fell into the darkness, it would dissolve like a drop of ink in the ocean - not destroyed but dissipated. It would break apart and re-emerge as part of a million billion other galaxies. He, his friends, the Heavenly City, his beloved City of Seven Pillars, everything he had ever known and loved or seen or even heard of - all of it would be broken down and redistributed, and they would never find each other again. The creation of their universe had been a one-in-infinity chance, and once it was destroyed, it would never come together again.
On the other hand, we have the god of long-shot gambles right here, don't we?
Inspiration struck him. Arima looked around at the assembled group again, weighing his odds. Did he dare try it? What other choice did he have?
"I'm going to try something!" he shouted, over the rushing of the wind. "Yumoto, give me your blessing! Kinshiro, hold my lines!"
"You'd better be sure about this!" Kinshiro shouted back, but he was already twisting his own set of lines around his wrist. It must have hurt him, but he still moved with swift efficiency as he used his now-free hands to produce his bow and arrows. He tied the lines around one of these bolts and shot it deeply into the ground before reaching for Arima's own bundle of strings.
"I'm not sure," said Arima, "but I don't see us getting any better ideas."
"I don't know what you're doing," Yumoto shouted to him, "but I know you can do it!"
And that was as good a blessing as he was going to get. Hunched against the powerful draft, Arima managed to stumble out of the gap's suction and force his way to where the twins were still crouching.
"Get up," he ordered them. "We need your help."
"What can we do?" Aki asked miserably.
"Just because we broke it doesn't mean we know how to fix it!" Haru wailed.
"You can and you will," Arima told them. He felt very sure now. His mind was clear. Despite the howling of the wind and the sounds of pain coming from his friends, he had a sense that everything was finally going the way it should be. He was doing his job at last and it felt good.
"We can't," said Aki. "We're not proper gods. We never have been. We don't have any true power. We're gods of nothing at all."
"That's where you're wrong," said Arima. "Listen to me. I am the god of duty, and I know that everything in this universe - every grain of sand, every drop of rain, every blade of grass - has a purpose. How can you truly believe that anyone as powerful and versatile as you two can't be good for anything?"
"It's what they always told us," said Haru.
"Then you shouldn't have believed them," said Arima. "But now, believe me. You aren't gods of nothing at all, and I know what you are."
Hunger flared in their expressions. They wanted to know. Even more than they wanted to be with their beloved Gora, they wanted to know why they existed.
And Arima realized he did know. It was so obvious, so blindingly clear, that he could hardly believe no one had noticed it before. The way they were so different and yet so perfectly alike, the way their movements synchronized in a kind of unchoreographed dance, the way they were made up of so many conflicting pieces and somehow managed to be flawless and whole... he should have known it from the moment they'd first been described to him.
"You can't know," said Haru stubbornly, though hope still smouldered in his eyes. "No one has ever known, not for thousands of years."
"I do know," said Arima firmly. "Haruhiko, Akihiko, you are the living embodiment of opposing elements brought into perfect harmony. You are the gods of unity and balance, and only you can mend this world."
Even over the wind and the chaos, he heard their intake of breath. Slowly, their sullen, fearful expressions cleared into a kind of ecstasy.
"Yes," said Aki softly.
"Oh," said Haru in wonder. "Of course..."
Arima reached out his hands to them. "Come on. Now is your time."
They took his hands, and he felt their auras - one hot, one cold - burning against his skin. A gentle glow was building around them. Power that had been locked away, denied its true purpose for centuries, was waking up at last, and the two of them were shining with it. Moving in perfect unison, as if they were the greatest dancers in the world and this their masterpiece performance, they stepped towards the rent. Each reached out to take the other's hand, and then, with their free hands, they took a grip on the nearest handful of wires. They pulled.
Arima felt the shift in the world. One moment, everything was falling apart. The next instant, the wind began to die town. A tremor in the earth that he'd hardly been aware of feeling faded away. The twins moved slowly down the line, taking hold of torn edges and drawing them together as easily as closing the lid of a box. Where they passed, they left peace and wholeness, and a row of exhausted gods who had been unequal to the task that they performed so easily. Within minutes, the gap was down to a tiny hole only a few inches wide. Aki reached up to press the top of the hole, and Haru pushed up from the bottom, and the darkness vanished with the tiniest pop! Arima dropped to his knees, suddenly overcome by relief.
I didn't actually know that would work.
"Is it over?" asked Ryuu's voice in the ensuing silence. "Are we alive?"
"We seem to be," said Akoya. He began trying to put his disheveled hair back in order.
The twins were standing and staring at each other. The nimbus of power around them had faded, leaving them looking pale and shaken.
"Did we just do that?" asked Haru.
"I think we did," said Aki. His voice was unsteady. "We used our powers... our real powers."
Kinshiro, still lying in an exhausted heap on the ground, glared up at them.
"You near as anything tore the universe in half with your foolish tricks," he snapped.
The two of them cringed.
"Now, Kinshiro," said Gora. "Why don't you let me handle this?"
Kinshiro scowled. "It's my job."
"Make an exception," Gora suggested.
Kinshiro subsided, muttering.
Hashibiro ambled over to his friend and crouched to help Gora to his feet. Gora thanked him kindly before walking - still a little unsteadily - over to stand before the twins. The two of them made little squeaking noises and clung to each other.
"We're sorry," Haru mumbled to his feet.
"We didn't know it was going to be like that," Aki added.
"But you knew it was wrong," said Gora, his tone still soft.
The twins scuffed their feet against the stony ground.
"I guess we did," Haru mumbled.
"And you chose to do it anyway," said Gora.
Aki looked pleadingly up at him. "We didn't know what else to do. We've been trying for so long..."
"I know," said Gora. "And I'm sorry I couldn't be more help to you. My only excuse is that I was young back then, too, and I didn't know as much as I do now. This isn't the way you should have come into your power... but I'm glad you've finally found it. For that, at least, I'm proud of you." His face broke into a smile, and he spread his arms wide. "Now come here. I've missed you."
The two of them gasped in unison. Then they flung themselves into his arms and began to sob. Gora closed them into an embrace, gently stroking their hair.
"Shh, shh. It's all right now. No harm done," he told them.
"Can you ever forgive us?" Aki asked.
"I can," said Gora. His expression turned grave. "But you understand, don't you, that I can't just let you make this kind of mischief and go unpunished, right?"
Haru gave a dismayed little squeak. Aki gulped hard and said, "We know." In the background, Kinshiro nodded as if to say that this was more like it.
"I'm not going to destroy you," said Gora. "I understand that you didn't really mean any harm. That doesn't mean I'm not going to do something, but I'm going to give you the chance to help me decide what that's going to be." He stepped back to look at them both seriously. "Now, I could seal you back up again. I'd seal you both together this time, so you wouldn't be alone, and I'd make sure the place you were sealed was as comfortable as possible, but you wouldn't be getting out again like you did this time."
"No! Not that!" they both blurted. They clung to each other in dismay. "Anything but that."
"I thought as much," said Gora. "All right, then. Here is your other choice: renounce your divine privileges and come to stay at the Kurotama. You can act as attendants to Yumoto and me, at least until you've proven you've learned your lesson. It won't be any kind of picnic," he warned, as he saw their eyes widen. "Yumoto and I live as humans most of the time, and that means you would too. You'd wait on customers, scrub floors, wash dishes, and pull weeds like the humblest kind of menial servant. And you'll be watched all the time, until Kinshiro, Yumoto and I all agree that you've earned the right to be trusted. So, do you think you can live with that?"
"We can stay with you?" asked Aki.
"Forever?" Haru added hopefully.
Gora laughed. "Well, I guess that's settled, then. Yes, you can stay as long as you want. But you have to promise to behave yourselves, all right?"
"We'll be good!" Aki promised.
Haru looked thoughtful about something.
"Can we keep our squirrel?" he asked, waving towards Dadacha. "I know he's a demon, but he's been a good one, as far as demons go."
"I don't know," said Gora. He glanced at Yumoto. "What do you think?"
Yumoto ambled over to have a look at the demon in question who was still lying where he'd fallen when Gora had shoved the twins away from danger. Dadacha pressed himself fearfully against the ground as Yumoto loomed over him.
"Do you like being cuddled?" Yumoto asked.
"Actually, yes," said Dadacha.
Yumoto's face split in a wide grin. "Okay! He can stay."
Arima thought he heard Wombat mutter, "Oh, thank goodness," but he couldn't be sure.
"This isn't punishment!" Kinshiro complained.
"No," said Atsushi, coming over to put an arm around him, "it's mercy."
"And it's making everyone happy," Ryuu put in. "Don't knock it."
"They aren't supposed to get what they want," Kinshiro muttered, but it was clear he was only complaining for form's sake. Arima sauntered over to join him.
"They're getting what they need," he said. "Not just Aki and Haru, but all of them. It's all for the best."
"I suppose you're right," Kinshiro said reluctantly.
"He is right," said Atsushi. He turned to beam at Arima. "But hey, you were great out there. I don't know what we would have done if you hadn't worked that out."
"Just doing my job," said Arima modestly. "I'm just glad my particular skills didn't fail me."
Kinshiro gave Arima one of his rare smiles. "I don't mind telling you, I have never been more proud of you. You never cease to amaze me, Arima."
Arima beamed. Atsushi laughed and hugged him, and after a moment or two, Kinshiro joined in. Arima closed his eyes in perfect contentment and put his arms around both of them.
Maybe it's no wonder I knew how to help them, he thought. He understood them perfectly. He knew exactly what it was to love someone so much that for them, he'd be willing to change the universe.
Cautious optimism was not a normal characteristic of Ouso's mental makeup. He normally lived his life seesawing between a state of blissful overconfidence and crippling self-doubt. Nevertheless, he was feeling cautiously optimistic as he made his way down the path to Lightflower.
After all the gods had gone away, he and Katari had gone to sleep - well, some other things had happened, but they'd gone to sleep eventually - and when they had awakened, the temple was gone. Or rather, it wasn't exactly gone, but all the little improvements that the twin gods had worked on it to make it liveable had vanished overnight, and he and Katari had found themselves sleeping on a cold stone floor instead of a comfortable bed. There had been no breakfast in the kitchen because there was no kitchen. Luna and Sol might never have been there at all.
So now they were leaving. While the gods' gifts may have vanished, the offerings the good people of Lighflower had left were still there, including a little bit of money. Ouso and Katari had decided together that the best thing to do now would be to leave Lightflower behind - there were too many people there who knew Ouso's face and who would want explanations - and instead make the journey to the next town. Katari seemed to think he knew people, or at least, knew of people, who might be willing to give them work. If that didn't work, he said, they would play at being bards and tell stories and recite poetry in pubs to earn their breakfast. One way or another, he said, they would be all right. It wouldn't be easy, but they would be all right.
At the moment, Ouso wasn't worried too much about easy. Maybe he had no money, no place to live, and an empty belly. The important thing was that the sun was shining and he was walking hand-in-hand with someone who thought he was the most wonderful thing since the invention of sonnets.
On reconsideration, the gods in the road were probably important, too.
Ouso stopped short. At the same instant, Katari gave a little yelp and tried to cower behind him. Ouso cast a look around, wondering if there was a place he could hide.
"Ah, um, ah..." he stammered.
There were two of them. One of them was... well, Ouso wasn't quite sure. He'd never seen this one depicted in any temple he'd ever been in, but he was most certainly a god. He was tall and strong-looking, handsome in a rough-hewn sort of way. His hair was the color of molten metal, and the air around him shimmered as if from rising heat. He carried something golden slung over his shoulder. It glittered as though it had just been given a fresh polish, shining too brightly in the strong sunlight for Ouso to make out what it was. As for the other...
Oh, my.
Ouso had never thought badly of his own appearance. He had always believed, in fact, that he was quite attractive in his own special way. Standing in front of this person, though, he suddenly realized that he was nothing of the sort. He could spend the rest of his life honing every aspect of his appearance and he wouldn't even come close to touching the loveliness of this person. His eyes could never be so huge and luminous, his hair would never be so soft and flowing, his skin would never have achieved that creamy smoothness, and as for that body... well, it was enough to make him wonder what Katari had ever seen in him.
"My lord," he blurted, and flung himself face-down on the ground.
"Oh, now, none of that," said the bigger god, sounding a bit embarrassed. "This is a friendly visit. No reason to get all formal."
"Sorry," Ouso mumbled into the dirt. He pulled himself into a kneeling position, and Katari hauled him up the rest of the way.
"Do you have any idea who that is?" Katari hissed into his ear.
"Um... pretty sure that one with all the jewelry is Pearlite..."
"No, the other one!"
"No idea."
"That's Fate."
"Oh," said Ouso in a small voice. All right, he'd almost been getting used to having gods around, but Fate was notoriously secretive. If there was any human alive today who had seen the greatest of the gods face to face, Ouso didn't know about them. He was not sure what it boded that he was here now.
Pearlite smiled. It seemed to make the sun shine a little brighter.
"Don't look so nervous," he said. "We're not here on your account. We're here to talk to him."
"Oh," said Ouso. He was surprised to realize he was disappointed. What - he wasn't interesting to the gods anymore?
Katari did not seem disappointed by this news. What he seemed was terrified.
"I... I'm not sure I understand..." he stammered.
"Don't pick on him," Ouso blurted. It pained him to hear his normally articulate lover stuttering and stumbling that way.
"Don't worry," said Fate kindly. "He's not in trouble. He and I just have a few things to talk over." He addressed Katari. "Perhaps you'd like to speak to me in private?"
"Of... of course," Katari managed.
The two of them walked deeper into the woods, until they were too distant for their voices to be heard as more than a murmur. Ouso found himself alone on a path with the most beautiful being in the universe.
"I can see now why you didn't want me at your temple," Ouso mumbled.
"Who said I didn't?" Pearlite answered.
Ouso looked up, surprised. "Those boys..."
"Were mere initiates," Pearlite cut in. "They did not speak on my behalf. They merely spoke out of ignorance. You can bet their master had a few words to say to them when he found out."
"But... but I'm not nearly beautiful enough to serve you..."
A soft hand touched his chin, and Ouso found himself gently but irresistibly forced to look into Pearlite's fathomless blue eyes. They were extraordinary eyes, full of sparkling highlights and violet undertones. They were also, Ouso realized, remarkably shrewd. Pearlite was so famous for his beauty that it was easy to forget he was also intelligent.
"Hmm," said Pearlite now, scrutinizing Ouso closely. "Let me see... rosy complexion, sleek hair, lovely eyes, long lashes, overall nicely balanced proportions... yes, I'd say you are truly beautiful." He released his hold on Ouso's chin. "All you really need is to put a curb on that runaway imagination of yours, and I'm not the one to help you there. If I ever turn you away from my temple, it's because you're destined to do something with your life besides sit about being ornamental. Not," he added, "that there's anything wrong with being ornamental."
Ouso could feel himself blushing down to his toes.
Pearlite just said I was beautiful. Pearlite! No one is ever going to believe this...
He was still basking in this extraordinary fact when Fate and Katari returned. Fate was clapping the poet-god on the shoulder, and Katari was wearing the expression of one who had been expecting a dressing-down and was relieved to find it hadn't been as bad as he'd thought it would be. He approached Pearlite and made a sweeping bow.
"My lord," he said, very formally, "I confess that I've wronged you, and I'd like to apologize. My behavior was entirely inexcusable, and I can only hope that one so gracious and understanding as yourself, possessing such a fine and noble spirit, can find it in his heart to forgive my error in judgement, which I regret so profoundly."
Pearlite looked highly gratified by this flowery pronouncement. "Well, I suppose if you really are sorry..."
"I am," said Katari, in a more normal tone. "I think I understand, now, what you meant before. I used to think poetry was all about beautiful words, and putting them together in flashy ways. But there's so much more to it, and I didn't understand it until I found something that really deserved to have poetry written about it." He flashed a quick, shy smile at Ouso. "And I never should have scorned you for being human. There's a lot to be learned from this kind of life."
Pearlite inclined his head graciously. "Very well, then. I accept your apology."
"In that case, I think everything is settled," said Fate. He turned to Katari. "So, what do you say? Are you ready to go home?"
Ouso felt his spirits sink. He should have known it was too good to last. Of course, Katari wouldn't want to stay human forever. He had important work to do. He would want to go back to the Heavenly City, where there was beauty and feasting and celebrations and luxury. He surely wouldn't want to recite poetry for pennies down here on earth...
"I don't know," said Katari, going very red in the face. "I mean... it's been a learning experience, and I, ah... I've gotten kind of attached to... well, you know."
Pearlite laughed. "Oh, yes, I know. My dear husband told me all about it."
Katari went even redder, and Ouso was sure he was blushing just as much. Really, people needed to stay out of other people's private lives.
"You know," said Fate gently, "you can't just avoid your duty for the fun of it. The world still needs you."
"I know," said Katari wretchedly.
"Oh, don't look so gloomy," said Akoya. "Nothing in the rules says a god can't court a mortal."
Katari perked up a bit. "Really?"
"Of course," said Akoya. "Vesta did it all the time, I understand, before he had the good sense to get married and settle down. It won't be ideal situation, but you won't have to put up with it forever. You waited this long to find love - you can wait another sixty years or so to make him your attendant, if that's what you want, and then you can do whatever you like together."
"Oh," said Katari. He seemed to think it over. Then he turned to Ouso. "Would that be all right with you? I wish I could stay, but I'll come back and see you again as often as I can..."
"You promise?" Ouso asked hopefully.
"Absolutely," said Katari fervently. He smiled. "I need you to inspire me."
Ouso thought about it. A story of star-crossed lovers, the god who descended from the heavens every night, giving up the pleasures of immortality to return to the arms of his lover... yes, it would make a good story. Maybe even one with a happy ending.
"As long as you promise to come back," he said. "Soon."
"I promise," said Katari solemnly.
"Well, that settles it," said Fate, hefting his golden axe. "Hold still a minute and I'll get you sorted out in no time."
"Wait," said Katari.
Fate stopped. "What is it now?"
"I can't just leave Ouso here alone in the woods," he said. "I at least need to know he's going to be safe before I leave."
"Okay," said Fate with a shrug. "What did you have in mind?"
An hour or so later, the master of the School of Bards was in his study, reading a very thick old book a colleague had sent him, combing it for tales he hadn't read before, and for material that might be turned into new stories. He was surprised to hear a knock on his door.
"Now, who could that be?" he muttered. He tucked a stray sheet of paper into the book to mark his place (and where he would no doubt miss it the next time he tried to find that particular page of his latest epic poem) and went to see who had decided to interrupt his private study.
He opened the door to find two men standing there. One was entirely unfamiliar and rather flustered-looking. The other was familiar, because the master of the school had been making regular offerings to him once a week for most of his adult life.
"Hello," said the god of poetry. "I need you to do me a favor and take on a new student..."
Shin Nito had come to Lightflower.
He had spent most of the day simply wandering around in a kind of daze, trying to take everything in. He still wasn't quite sure how he had made it here. He had made the promised offering to Argent, and to practically every other god he could think of, just to be on the safe side. It must have worked, because a few days later, a letter had been pushed under his door, explaining that the writer had somehow or other gotten hold of one of Shin's portfolios, and had liked what he'd seen, and that if Shin would like a job in Lightflower then he had only to come to a certain address and ask for one. Almost as soon as Shin had finished reading this missive and shoving everything he owned into a bag, a trader had pulled through town and offered to give Shin a lift. He had spent most of the intervening trip offering thanks and apologies to the gods, who clearly could and did get things done for him when he gave them the proper stimulus.
So now he was here, in the most beautiful city in the world. Just as an experiment, he had tried sketching portions of it, and had been somewhat dismayed to find that his art style had not miraculously improved just because he'd taken it to a new climate.
I don't know why I'm here. Probably this job will turn out to be nothing. There must be better artists in this city than me...
Nevertheless, he'd sent a messenger to his potential patron's address, saying that he was in town and would be happy to drop by and talk whenever they had time for him. A message had come back saying that they were thrilled to hear from him and he should drop in that afternoon for tea and job negotiations. Shin had put on his best clothes (still absurdly drab in this glittering city), picked up his sketch pad and his invitation, in case credentials were needed, and set out as resolutely as he could.
The address on the message led him to a narrow three-storey building, one of several handsome town houses pressed against each other's side in a humble but still quite respectable part of town. This one had a balcony on the second floor. Someone was sitting on it, an easel propped in front of him, and he was painting away industriously. Shin stared. Surely this couldn't be the right place. They obviously already had an artist in residence. What did they need him for?
"Ah, hello?" he called up to the painter.
The painter stopped his painting and turned to look down at Shin. He was long and lanky, Shin could see now, with a mop of dark hair falling past his shoulders.
"Hey," he said. He waved to Shin with the hand that held his brush, and a drop or two of paint dripped down onto the cobbles.
"Sorry to interrupt you," said Shin, "but is this fifteen-twelve Flowerpot Way?"
"Yep," said the painter, and went back to painting.
Clearly this man was not one of the city's great conversationalists. Shin attempted to think of how to phrase the question on his mind in such a way as to get a useful answer to someone who seemed to prefer conversing with one syllable at a time.
He still hadn't come up with a satisfactory answer to that riddle before the front door opened, and an excited little man burst out. He was dark-haired like the painter, but small and darty, with a face that brought to mind a cat convinced of his ability to steal the fish when someone wasn't looking.
"There you are!" he exclaimed. "You are him, aren't you - Shin Nito?"
Shin admitted that this was the case.
"I'm Kou Kinosaki," the little man replied, holding out a hand to shake. "I publish the local newspaper, the Lightflower Ledger."
"Newspaper?" Shin answered, baffled.
"A weekly publication," Kou explained, "telling everyone everything interesting that happened this week. Let me tell you, this place is paradise for a publisher like me. The people in this city can't get enough gossip. Give them twenty pages about who went to whose party and talked to who, and they can't give you money fast enough."
"Is that so?" said Shin, confused and a little overwhelmed.
"Exactly," said Kou. "But to really sell, the newspaper needs illustrations, and that's where you come in. I'm telling you, everyone around here will pay good money to look at a picture of Lord So-and-So in the very act of flirting with Lady Whatsit. All I need is somebody to make the pictures. I want to hire you to etch the illustrations for my newspaper."
"But don't you already have an artist?" Shin asked.
"Hm? Oh, him?" asked Kou, following Shin's gaze. "Oh, no, that's my husband. He's doing the job for now, but between you and me, he's earning more selling his paintings, and he likes that better anyway. News pictures aren't what you'd call his metier. You, though..." He gave Shin an approving smile. "You've got the knack. None of this fancy artsy stuff - just good clean lines, exactly as you see them. I'm telling you, you're exactly what I've been needing. So, can you start right away? I'll pay you by the picture, and you can have the empty guest room upstairs if you need a place to stay, no extra charge, but you pay for your own meals. So? Howzabout it?"
Shin turned this over. "So what you're saying is... you really like my art?"
"It's perfect," Kou assured him.
A slow, hopeful smile crept across Shin's face.
"I'd say you've got yourself an artist." he said.
"I bid a blue thee," said Atsushi, placing a card on the table.
"Red nine," En offered.
"Yellow two," Ryuu put in.
"Pass," said Io.
Various cards were exchanged, and everyone studied their hands thoughtfully. En very deliberately removed several cards from his hand and spread them face-down on the table.
"Looks like I have a ten-card run," he said smugly.
The others at the table groaned.
"Not again," Ryuu complained.
Io sighed. "Remind me why I play with him?"
Arima, observing from the safety of a table nearby, merely smiled. Life in the Palace of the Gods had gone back to normal, and he was enjoying it immensely. Just now, a sociable little group had gathered in a lesser parlor - the same one, in fact, where Akoya and Katari had exchanged those pointed words that had kicked off the whole adventure. Katari was there now - not surrounded by attendants and sycophants, but alone in a corner. He was deeply involved in writing heaps of sad poetry about the agony of being separated from his lover, and looking happier about it than Arima had ever seen him. Poets, he concluded, were very strange people.
"More tea?" Kinshiro offered.
Arima turned his attention back to his table companion and held up his cup.
"Just a splash," he said.
Kinshiro smiled and tipped the teapot. He was still overflowing with approval for Arima's sterling performance at Tableturn, and Arima was basking in the attention.
I certainly have come a long way since that day out in the garden...
He sipped his tea and let himself enjoy a moment of pure contentment. His friends were with him, people were admiring him, and he had tea. What could possibly be better?
These ruminations were interrupted by the sound of distant yelling. The shouter was shouting the same word over and over, and they were getting closer by the second. The effect produced was something along the lines of, "guys guys guys, guys GUYS, GUYS!"
As the yelling reached a crescendo, Yumoto came tearing down a hallway. He hit the wall, caromed off it with no apparent damage to himself or to it, and came racing towards the parlor, still yelling.
"Guys, guys, guys!" he shouted.
"I believe we have gotten the message," said Kinshiro, glaring. Running and shouting in the halls did not sit well with him.
"Come quick, come quick!" Yumoto exclaimed. He grabbed the nearest person, who happened to be Atsushi, and began trying to drag him to his feet. "You gotta see this!"
"See what?" asked Io. He placed the cards on the table. He'd been losing rather badly, and appeared to be glad of the distraction.
"Come see!" Yumoto insisted. His eyes were bright and his cheeks were very pink. He was beaming from ear to ear. "You aren't gonna believe this!"
"I guess we'd better go have a look," En concluded, "or he won't let us hear the end of it."
"This had better be good," said Kinshiro, getting stiffly to his feet.
Yumoto was positively bouncing with enthusiasm, overjoyed that his friends were getting ready to follow him. He made a gesture, and the room was momentarily filled with the strawberry scent of his magic. Arima blinked as his vision was momentarily filled with red sparkles.
When his sight had cleared, he found himself standing at the edge of a wide field. In the center of the field, three figures were apparently locked in combat. Arima blinked a few times, trying to make out what he was seeing. Two of the figures were clearly Aki and Haru, wielding their own unique weapons. After everything that had been going on lately, that was hardly a surprise. The person they were fighting, though...
"Demon's blood," Kinshiro swore. His eyes were very wide and round. "That's Chaos!"
And so it was. Clad all in black and dried-blood red, swinging his immense axe as if it were light as a feather, he attacked the brothers again and again. The two of them were doing a remarkably good job defending themselves. Aki stabbed at him with his polearm, only to be blocked by a sudden wall that hadn't been there a split-second ago. He hacked through it, only to find that Chaos was now behind him. The axe came whistling towards him, but Aki ducked, and Haru sprang at Chaos from the other direction with his immense shears spread wide. Chaos whipped around and made a gesture with one hand, and a geyser of something that smelled suspiciously like lemonade burst from the ground and flung Haru high in the air. Haru landed lightly a few feet away and dove instantly back into the fray.
"We have to help them," said Kinshiro, starting forward.
"Wait," said Atsushi, stretching a hand out to stop him. "Look closer. Look at his eyes."
Puzzled, Kinshiro stopped. Arima looked too. Yes, there was something about the eyes. Arima had battled Chaos before, and he remembered only too well the look of those glowing red eyes, seething with the lust for destruction. These eyes... they were Gora's eyes, warm and friendly as ever, and just now glittering with the look of someone who is enjoying himself immensely.
"They're not fighting," Ryuu murmured wonderingly. "They're... playing."
And so they were. Aki ran at Chaos, preparing to stab at him, only to have the ground suddenly rear up under his feet and send him tumbling backwards. Haru tried to spear Chaos on the point of his shears, only to be caught by a flick of that menacing axe and flung through the air. He landed in a pile of pillows that had spontaneously manifested there. As soon as he had righted himself, the pillows dissolved into a mound of very confused crickets that all began trying to hop away. All three participants in this combat were grinning hugely, as though this were the most fun they had enjoyed in years. Arima relaxed and let his eye stray away from the contest, and noticed that there were several more people already observing the fun. Wombat and Dadacha were both perched on a nearby bit of fencing, enjoying the show, while Hashibiro stood near them preening his feathers with one eye turned towards the excitement.
"I don't understand," said Kinshiro, shaking his head. "This shouldn't be possible. How can he be Chaos and still be in control of himself?"
"He isn't," said Akoya, studying the performance with interest. "I mean, he's not Chaos - not quite. He's not quite Fate, either. He's somewhere in between. It's the two of them doing it. They're balancing him."
"Isn't it fantastic?" Yumoto burbled. "Even I can't do that. All I could ever do was arrange it so Chaos never came out at all. These two can make him safe."
Kinshiro gave him a keen look. "You're sure about that?"
Yumoto nodded. "We've been testing all morning. He's fine. Most of the reason he was so wild the last time he showed up was because he'd been cooped up so long with nothing to do. Now he can come out and have fun whenever he wants, so even if there is some kind of an accident and he gets out when he's not supposed to..."
"...he won't feel tempted to destroy the universe just because it's there," Atsushi finished, eyes bright. "You're right, that's wonderful news."
"It really is," Akoya agreed.
Ryuu nodded. "It's just as I thought - the world needs a little Chaos in it, to shake things up a bit once in a while. I think this is going to be a very good thing, in the long run."
Kinshiro was shaking his head. "So if we had listened to these two - if we had accepted them right from the start, instead of my insisting that they be destroyed, we might have figured out their purpose sooner, and there need never have been a Chaos War." He pressed a hand to his face. "We've needed these two all along. I've been a fool."
Atsushi put his arm around Kinshiro's shoulders. "It wasn't your fault. How were you to know?"
"You were only doing what you thought was right," Arima assured him, "and you clearly weren't the only one who thought they didn't have a purpose. Apparently everyone did. Not even Gora knew what they were for up until now."
"Anyway, now we know," Yumoto assured him, "and things are going to be a lot better. I know Brother sure is a lot happier."
And clearly he was. Even as the audience watched, Aki had managed to tackle him from behind, and the two brothers working together were able to pin him to the ground, where they started tickling him. Gora laughed and tried ineffectually to shove them away.
"All right, all right, you win! I give up!" he shouted, still laughing.
The brothers obligingly backed off and offered their hands to help him stand.
"I think that's enough sparring for one day," he said, as he hauled himself to his feet.
His appearance went through a series of rapid changes, as his clothing went first from black and maroon to white and crimson, and then to the everyday homespun garb he normally affected when he was playing at being human. Seeing that the fighting was over, the rest of the group picked their way closer. The field was in rather odd shape after having Chaos unleashed on it, and they had to proceed carefully to avoid falling in a puddle of molasses or stepping on a random dead fish.
"How are you feeling?" Yumoto asked, as he drew within speaking distance.
Gora grinned and beat his chest with a fist. "Like a new man. I haven't felt so good in years."
"It's nice to see you three getting along so well," said Ryuu with a knowing grin.
"Having them around has done us all a world of good," Gora agreed. He flashed a fond smile at the twins, who positively glowed at the praise.
Yumoto nodded. "It's nice, having new friends around. Even the squirrel gets along with everybody."
Arima glanced over at the fence, where the demon in question was sitting with the two holy beasts. He had stalked and dispatched several of the crickets that had been created during the fight, and was now happily devouring them. Hashibiro took a few ponderous steps nearer for a better look, and Dadacha looked the long distance up at him. He held up a dead bug.
"Cricket?" he offered.
"I don't mind if I do," said Hashibiro.
Dadacha tossed the cricket into the air, and Hashibiro snapped it up with a clack of his immense beak. He chewed thoughtfully.
"Not bad," he decided, "but on the whole, I prefer fish."
Dadacha shrugged. "More for me!"
Arima smiled. "Yes, it seems everyone is getting on swimmingly."
"He gives good cuddles, too," said Yumoto with smug approval. "He's so soft."
Kinshiro had worked his way up to the front of the group. Now he was standing in front of the twins, his expression rigid. The two of them eyed him warily, clearly prepared to fight or bolt if he turned dangerous. Instead, Kinshiro performed a stiff, formal bow.
"I'm afraid I owe you an apology, my lords," he said. "I was very wrong about you both. I'm sorry I ever believed you were worthless. The truth is, you fill a role in this universe that is of paramount importance, and you are both deserving of great respect. Please accept my most profound regrets at my behavior." He straightened and met their eyes gravely. "When the terms of your servitude are over, I hope you will both feel welcome in the Palace of the Gods. I promise, when the time comes, you will be received with highest honors."
There was a long, tense silence. Arima could tell that Kinshiro still hadn't forgiven them for turning him against his beloved and his best friend. He could also tell that the twins hadn't forgiven Kinshiro for calling for their execution and then stuffing them in a seal for hundreds of years. For a moment, it seemed like things could go either way.
It was Aki who returned the bow and replied, "Thank you very much. Your apology is accepted." He straightened up and added, "But your invitation isn't necessary. We're both very happy where we are."
That seemed to be the right answer. Kinshiro relaxed a fraction and nodded.
"I wish you both the best, then," he said. "You will come visit us, I hope?"
This was a politeness, and everyone knew it. Aki shrugged, and Haru said, "We might. But I expect we're going to be busy for quite some time."
They parted company with a few more polite nothings on both sides, and then Kinshiro retreated to the safety of his own friends.
"That was nice," said Atsushi, patting his husband affectionately. "Good for you."
"I was just doing what needed to be done," said Kinshiro. His gaze strayed back to the two sets of brothers, who were now amusing themselves by rehashing the details of their sparring match. "Are they really going to be all right here, do you think? Gora's not going to be too soft on them, is he?"
"Don't worry so much," said Arima. "You can trust me - they're all exactly where they need to be."
Evening was the twins' favorite time of day, and today they were enjoying it more than ever. They sat on the roof of the Kurotama, back to back, one gazing out at the rising moon, the other at the setting sun. Neither of them spoke, but they didn't need to. Each knew how the other was feeling, and some emotions ran too deeply for words.
We have a purpose.
For so many centuries, they had believed there was no reason for them to exist. They had wondered, in their secret hearts, if perhaps it was true that the world would be better off without them. Now, at last, they knew exactly what they were for, and it was the most wonderful thing they could imagine. Their purpose was to stand beside Gora and to love and protect him forever. It was what they had always wanted to do, and now at last they knew how to do it.
They were still dwelling on this marvelous prospect when the air around them suddenly warmed, filling with the scents of fresh-cut wood and hot metal. Then Gora was there, standing neatly balanced on the spine of the roof.
"There you two are," he said. "I've been looking for you. What are you doing way up here?"
"Watching the sunset," said Haru.
"Did you need us for anything?" asked Aki hopefully.
"Sort of," he replied. "Actually I wanted to show you something."
The two of them clambered to their feet.
"Show us what?" Haru asked eagerly.
Gora grinned. "A surprise. Do you trust me?"
Both of them nodded. They would have trusted him with anything.
"Then take hold of my hands," he said, extending them to the twins, "and close your eyes and follow me. We're going to take a little walk."
Both of them shyly took the offered hands. They were good strong hands, warm and callused from hard work. They closed their eyes and waited.
"All right," said Gora. "Now... step forward."
They walked. They felt the roof beneath their feet vanish between step and step, and now they were walking across something else, something smooth and hard that felt like slabs of stone beneath their feet. The pleasant breeze and scents of forest around them vanished, leaving only still air and a chilly, damp smell. Gora continued leading them confidently, warning them when they were approaching rough terrain, balancing them when they stumbled.
"Keep your eyes closed," he said. "We're almost there."
Sure enough, a few seconds later, he stopped.
"All right," he said. "Now, brace yourselves."
With that, he took both their hands and placed them on... something. It was cool and hard, whatever it was, like crystal. Then, suddenly, it was not cool at all, but warm and seeming almost alive. The twins yelped and opened their eyes as they felt power flare all around them.
They were in a world of starlight. The two of them stood with their hands pressed against a silver-white crystal, a slender spire of stone that rose above them, branching out into myriad fractal twigs like a tree made of solid diamond. Though they could have sworn they'd been walking on stone, the ground was now covered with midnight-blue grass that twinkled with dew. On one edge of the horizon, a huge blue moon hung gleaming over a stand of sparkling diamond trees with sapphire leaves. In the other direction was a building made of graceful white stone - a house, perhaps, or perhaps a theater like the one Haru had admired not so very long ago - and beyond that, the edge of the setting sun tinted the sky with a warm rosy hue. Things that might have been birds sang a sleepy song in the trees, and from somewhere nearby came a sound of running water. A gentle breeze played over it all, carrying with it a sweet floral scent. Above them spread a sky full of brilliant stars, so like the ones in their long-lost egg that it made their throats go tight with the sense that somehow, after all these years, they had finally come home.
"What is this place?" asked Aki, turning in a slow circle as he tried to take it all in.
"It's beautiful," Haru whispered.
Gora was looking around with an expression of approval. "This looks good. I like it." He turned to smile at them. "This is your world. I'm afraid it's not very big, but I wanted to give you something, since you won't have rooms in the Palace any time soon."
"You gave us... a world?" Aki repeated, bewildered.
"Just a small one," Gora repeated. "It's attuned to you but not bound to you - you can leave it as long as you want, but it will always be here when you want it. I fixed it so that only you two and I can get in without your permission." His expression became mildly anxious. "That's what you wanted, wasn't it? A place just for the three of us?"
The two of them stared a moment, hardly able to believe what they were hearing. Then, in unison, they flung themselves at him, hugging him tightly, half laughing and half crying.
"Yes! Yes, it's perfect! It's better than we wanted."
Gora laughed in delight and relief. "Well, that's good. I'd hate to go through all this trouble for nothing." He pulled away from them just far enough that he could smile down at them. "So, how about showing me around?"
"We don't know our way around, either," Haru pointed out. "We just got here."
Gora laughed again. "Okay, then. Let's explore."
"Let's," Aki agreed, and Haru nodded.
And so, hand in hand, the three of them wandered off into a perfect starry world.