69. [COUNTERPOINT] A God's Life for Me

  As they went about their usual day in Devalem—the most virtuous of the Virtuous Realms—Sublimity, Herald of the Righteous Chains, was bored out of their mind.

  Today, like all other days, Sublimity sat wrapped inside the Rippling Lotus—their personalized corner of nothing amidst a field of more nothing. And in the privacy afforded by the Lotic space, they indulged in their daily use of contraband. Well, the other gods would call it ‘contraband’, but Sublimity would characterize their painstakingly curated collection of off-Realm souvenirs as ‘necessities’ for maintaining their sanity.

  One such necessity was a down cushion for Skyhowl to nap on (in its puffy, fluffy portable form, of course). Of premium craftsmanship, the cushion had been ‘won’ from a Tidereign merchant after he’d refused to sell it to Sublimity, citing some oath or code or another. Tidereigners and their ‘oaths’, how bothersome…

  In any case, that merchant’s next reincarnation would be happy to know that his product was being put to good use. For Skyhowl, being the hard-to-please fussbudget that it was, refused to curl up on Sublimity’s armored lap without the cushion. Even now, the hound snored blissfully as its master absent-mindedly ran their hand through its cloud-white fur.

  The bulk of Sublimity’s attention, however, was attuned to the television screen that hung from one of the lotus petals. Ah, TV—without a doubt the greatest invention conceived by the busybodies over in Manesfera. What was more, the merchants there had zero qualms about selling their wares to anyone who was willing to pay.

  If the down cushion was the most necessary of Sublimity’s possessions, the TV would rank a close second. Indeed, in recent weeks, it very nearly dethroned the cushion, as Sublimity’s need to distract themselves with cheap entertainment took center stage.

  For their suspension from their professional duties—indefinite until further notice—had hit them harder than they’d expected. It wasn’t that they particularly liked their job as the Overseer in charge of Naraka; gods knew not enough happened in that hellhole to warrant the hours spent monitoring it. Even so, the sudden lack of purpose or routine had only highlighted the sheer emptiness that defined the day-to-day of a fully ascended Deva.

  Normally, the TV would serve as a ‘second screen’ while Sublimity kept a mind’s eye on the data that streamed in through Pathsight. With their access having been restricted, however, they had nothing better to do than to channel-surf through reruns of old Manesferan shows.

  To think that, at one point, they’d been excited about their time off! The hope had been that they could finally dig into some of the critically acclaimed arthouse pieces and heady crime dramas they’d been putting off for ages. Yet, when they sat down in earnest to work through their backlog, they quickly discovered a different reality.

  The art films’ slow pacing and obscure messaging only irritated them. The crime dramas had too many characters to keep track of, and frankly, the portrayed stakes were a little too tense and stressful for Sublimity’s tastes.

  In the end, they settled back into their comfort watch: sitcoms with laugh tracks and slice-of-life animes. Today’s guilty pleasure was a legendary episode from season 6 of A Dragon’s Life for Me, in which the titular shapeshifting dragon revealed to his human love interest the truth of his somewhat mythical origins. Honestly, even this was a little too tense and stressful for Sublimity’s tastes, but it definitely helped that they’d already seen it about 500 times.

  Presently, Sublimity paused their petting of Skyhowl, prompting the latter to let out a quizzical growl. The Herald ignored their Steed, absorbed as they were in the climactic scene of the episode. As the dusk sun descended behind the roof of a typical Manesferan high school, the dragon faced his crush and uttered the iconic line that tugged at many a heartstring back when it first aired.

  I came to this world because I wanted to be free to live however I wished—to love whomever I desired. But… how can I do that if I can’t even be true to myself—true to the person I care about most? Right now, I want you to see the real me—my truest and freest self.

  Sublimity mouthed along with the line without realizing. They’d memorized it, of course. How could they not after 500 viewings? Which, of course, also meant they knew the response by heart. As the sun set, and as the moon shone upon the protagonist’s newly reptilian features, his amorous counterpart had said to him—

  “Sublimity? May I come in?”

  Oh shit!

  Faster than the speed of light (literally), Sublimity shut off the TV and furled the lotus petal over it. They then unceremoniously dumped Skyhowl off their lap (prompting an indignant yelp) before shoving the warmed cushion inside their chestpiece.

  Not a moment too soon, as the speaker phased into Sublimity’s Lotic space without waiting for a reply. Gods were not known for their patience, and this visitor was no exception.

  Elegy, Herald of the Ubiquitous Laments, deigned to give a slight bow of greeting as they levitated in. As usual, they wore a flowing, celestial robe with floating sashes that gave them a distinctly feminine appearance. Their veil, made of dragonfly wings, hung down a little lower than was fashionable among the Devas, fluttering just above the subtle swell of their bosom (which Sublimity very much suspected was artificial in nature).

  “Elegy,” Sublimity spoke evenly, having already composed themselves after the near disaster, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

  Before answering, Elegy’s ‘gaze’ lingered for a Ksana upon Sublimity’s chest, which they only now realized must have taken on an unnatural bulge, courtesy of the cushion. Well? What are you going to do about it? You show me yours, and I’ll show you mine.

  “The pleasure is all mine,” came the reply, just as determined to be affectless, “but alas, we cannot stop and chat. I’ve come to fetch—ahem—invite you to an urgent meeting with the Abiding Ones.”

  Sublimity tensed, knowing full well that Elegy’s turn of phrase—as well as the ensuing correction—had been wholly intentional. And as much as they loathed them for it, there wasn’t anything to be gained from showing it. Not now—not while Elegy held the coveted position of Devalem’s Overseer.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  In truth, the job itself amounted to nothing more than a glorified runner for the Abiding Ones (forget Naraka being uneventful; there truly was nothing to oversee here in Devalem). But it also doubled as the highest position a Herald could attain before their Deification proper. And if any of the incumbent Abiding Ones were to kick the bucket, Elegy would surely have the inside track to claim that vacant seat.

  Compared to that, Sublimity—as the newest of the fully ascended Devas—took up the lowest rung. There were exactly five Heralds (including Elegy) above them, and if they had any hope of climbing that ladder, they’d best be on their best behavior.

  Especially so soon after that moment of self-indulgent madness that had earned them their suspension.

  And being on their best behavior meant hiding their contraband whenever there were visitors around. It also meant keeping a veil over their less-than-savory thoughts about their superiors.

  “Of course, Herald.” Sublimity managed to keep that veil intact. “Lead the way.”

  The ‘way’ consisted of a vast landscape of pure and utter nothing. Nothing as far as the eye could see, and nothing as long as the mind could imagine. And as much as Sublimity understood and adhered to the principles of Anicca and Anatta, for the life of them, they couldn’t see why the Devas couldn’t at least push their individual Lotuses closer together.

  “So, a meeting. Barely a month into my suspension,” Sublimity struck up a conversation, more to assuage boredom than out of a real need to know. “Let me guess. My little pet project is bearing fruit already?”

  “A word of warning,” came the prompt reply, “I wouldn’t let the Abiding Ones hear you say that, if I were you. But… I suppose there’s no point keeping it from you. To answer your question, yes. The mongrel you unleashed into the world has bit into its first chunk of bone.”

  “Oh?” Sublimity did their utmost to keep the delight out of their voice. “What did she do? Learn a new spell? Smite another boss?”

  “Two new spells, and likely more on the way very shortly. And—let’s see—four bosses, depending on how you want to count them. Including the Realm Immortal.”

  Sublimity stopped in their tracks, prompting Skyhowl to bump into their leg. Elegy spun in the air to face them, their expression—of course—unreadable.

  “The Realm Immortal?” Sublimity exclaimed, no longer able to mask their bubbling excitement. “In one month? Does that mean… is she about to ascend already?”

  “Well, not quite just yet. Thankfully, she’s hit something of a snag, which gives us the time to prepare a response.”

  “A response…” Sublimity muttered as they resumed their walk. “What, do the Abiding Ones wish to snuff her out? I suppose there’s not much I can do about that, but then… why have they called for me? What do they need me for?”

  “Do not get ahead of yourself, Herald. It’s a simple rostering issue,” Elegy explained, not bothering to veil their disdain. “As you know, Humility was pulling double duties, covering your share of the Naraka oversight. Well, they’ve been summoned to Suradao to assist Duality. Trouble in paradise. Again.”

  As they said this, Elegy ‘rolled their eyes’. Sublimity scoffed in solidarity. If there was anything the Heralds could all agree on, it was that they could share a joke at Duality's overworked expense.

  At the same time, Sublimity broke out in an involuntary shudder, as they recalled their own harrowing journey through the Fifth Realm. Forget Naraka. Suradao is the true ‘hell’ of the Six Realms.

  “So, if I’m understanding you correctly,” Sublimity again, “the Abiding Ones have been spooked by this Rakshasa’s unusually rapid progression—especially for one that had to start from the lowliest Realm. They want one of us Heralds to, what, stall her? But since everyone’s so busy, they’ve had no choice but to reinstate me, is that it? What about you, Elegy? Why can’t you do it?”

  Elegy didn’t dignify this with a response. Instead, they beckoned towards a Lotus that had appeared before them, one much larger and more multifaceted than Sublimity’s Rippling.

  “Why don’t you ask them yourself?” Elegy said as they stepped aside.

  Sublimity hmph’d, indulging in the last bit of self-expression before they had to face the Abiding Ones. They bent down to give Skyhowl the signal for ‘wait’, then phased into the Lotus.

  Despite its outward size and grandiosity, the Whispering Lotus was by far the least accommodating of the Lotic spaces. For one thing, it was steeped in pitch darkness—one of a universal rather than visual nature.

  In a word, it was a sensory deprivation chamber. Inside the Whispering, neither Sublimity nor any other soul could see, hear, touch, nor speak. Here, they were invariably reduced to a receptacle for the Abiding One’s one-sided rebukes and demands.

  Of course, the Abiding Ones themselves were invisible and insensible, with their presence indicated only via Pathsight. Presently, from left to right, the labels read:

  [AVIDITY—Deity of the Oft Heard]

  [VIGILANCE—Deity of the Far Reached]

  [PLENITUDE—Deity of the Full Grown]

  [INERTIA—Deity of the Long Awaited]

  That’s odd, Sublimity had the time to think to themselves. Odyssey isn’t here. Have they been called away to urgent business? Or perhaps… could it be that they’re abstaining?

  “Here they are,” a gruff baritone issued from the leftmost side, “the insolent brat.”

  “Calm, Deity,” a raspy alto from left of center, “the time is long past for airing out grievances.”

  “Quite,” a dulcet tenor from right of center, “let us move forward and focus on solutions.”

  “Now, Herald,” a tremulous soprano from the rightmost side, “I trust you already know what we ask of you?”

  For the briefest of Ksanas, Sublimity inwardly sighed, frustrated by the pomp and circumstance—by the hypocrisy of it all. You know full well I can’t speak for myself. And neither do you need me to.

  They managed to minimize their ‘insolence’ and impurity of thought to a fleeting moment in time. Perhaps not enough to escape the notice of the oldest gods in the afterlife, but enough for them to let it slide.

  “The one you let out of its cage in your arrogant folly”—Avidity’s gruff baritone—“the one accompanied by a remnant of the Upheaval.”

  “She shows the promise you exalted”—Vigilance’s raspy alto—“and we feared.”

  “By some failing on her part”—Plenitude’s dulcet tenor—“she’s momentarily grounded herself in Naraka, which is where you come in.”

  “Head her off”—Inertia’s tremulous soprano—“and make amends for your mistake. Exploit Pretjord’s destabilizing elements, of which there are plenty. Find a way to cut short her Path, but remember: the choice has to be her own.”

  It was all Sublimity could do to veil their emotions. For all their contempt for the Abiding Ones—sometimes more open than was wise—at least on this count, Herald and Deities could agree.

  Sublimity couldn’t think of a better cure for their boredom than checking up on Serac Edin and her REVOLVER.

  A Dragon's Life for Me is a bit overrated. Even for slice-of-life, the glacial pacing really detracted from the stakes and character arcs. And as for that famous rooftop scene, well, let's just say I'm on the 'jumped the shark' side of that discourse.

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