"The primal beast within can be our strength... yet just as often our undoing, the root of our indolence," she lamented. "Enough about damned Godma. Celas, where were you bound before our paths crossed?"

  "Me?" The Goddess of Moon and Harvest sounded surprised. "You don't know?"

  "Me?" Their mannerisms mirrored each other perfectly. "How would I know?"

  "I was coming to find you." Celas pouted. "I thought you knew and were waiting along my path to surprise me."

  "Oh, I knew you were here, but not what you intended. The wind's tidings have their limitations."

  "Wind Listener," the Moon and Harvest goddess muttered. "I almost forgot you possessed that gift."

  Nira wrinkled her nose in a grimace. "Even if I had known you were seeking me, I wouldn't have come to fetch you, you fool. At most I'd have taken a stroll nearby."

  "Hmph." The goddess turned away with lofty disdain. "A stroll? Here? The stench of blood is suffocating."

  "Mind your own business."

  "I am minding it." Celas lifted her chin. "Did you walk from Balithar Lake?"

  "No."

  "Then where's your unicorn? Or did you ride horseback?"

  "Neither."

  "If you're being mysterious, at least do it properly." Celas wrinkled her nose. "Let me tell you something, Nira—had I not encountered those brutes first, you would have been the one in peril."

  "Because you were armed?"

  "Precisely. You could say I saved your life, Forge Goddess."

  Nira's lips curled into a smile, her eyes gleaming with challenge. She turned and called to the sky: "Vanya!"

  A black speck materialized in the vast moonlight, expanding with alarming speed. When the creature landed beside them, Bor recoiled several paces in fright.

  The Silverwing Griffin opened her beak and affectionately nibbled at the Anlad elf's shoulder. "Vanya, someone claims she saved my life—suggesting I was helpless before a few thugs." Nira stroked the creature's neck. "Tell her if that's true."

  The griffin advanced toward Celas, spreading its forelimbs to display razor-sharp black talons and opening a mouth large enough to swallow a wild boar whole.

  "Enough, enough!" Celas raised her hands, turning her face away. "Don't get your saliva on my clothes, Gods above!" (She muttered a prayer to herself.) "No wonder you reek of that strange odor, Nira. Hmph." The contrast between their mounts had kindled bright jealousy in the vain Goddess of Moon and Harvest. "Stop preening, Forge Goddess. We are the last two 'Gods' left—what point is there in such petty rivalry, hmm?"

  Nira grabbed Vanya's tail, pulling her away from Celas. "So—you came seeking me. What for?"

  "...About this war."

  Nira's expression darkened. "So we circle back to that topic after all."

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  "Yes." She sighed. "I wanted to consult you about a possible course for our country."

  "You mean Illuviλofer? Discuss her course?" Nira shook her head. "Please, sister. Illuviλofer never participates in any war—not even in the rebellions other humanoid races mounted against the Titans. Elves have always maintained neutrality. We became outcasts precisely because we joined that war. Have you forgotten? We are not even counted among the citizens of Illuviλofer anymore."

  "I haven't forgotten what stripped us of our identities. But this war differs from others—its scale is vast enough to engulf the entire continent. I believe that even if Illuviλofer won't choose sides, she must declare a position, or risk being dragged deeply into the conflict. Whatever happens, those living within her borders remain our kin."

  "Your information is outdated, Celas. Madlos Kahn Civide, High King of Illuviλofer, has already declared neutrality. And Emperor William Davidow of Godma has pledged not to touch a single inch of Illuviλofer's soil. I thought you monitored eastern affairs more closely."

  "A dignified compromise, isn't it?"

  "An unavoidable compromise," the Forge Goddess replied with resignation. "Though Madlos has worn the High King's mantle for less than twenty-five years, he has pierced the veil of the Godman Emperor's intentions. He knows the man plays no games—intent on sweeping through the northern kingdoms to eventually unify the continent."

  "If that's true, then eventually Illuviλofer will be absorbed into the Empire's territories."

  "The poor Duchy of Elnya still maintains its independence—though as a vassal state." The goddess smiled sadly. "Perhaps when that time comes, we too will have to lean toward Elnya, clinging to existence as a tributary state."

  "To my eyes, such a future isn't distant. Perhaps we should persuade Madlos."

  "Persuade the High King?" Nira asked incredulously. "Persuade him of what—to deploy troops to aid Cynthia against Godma?"

  "I don't know," Celas bowed her head. "Perhaps something like that. In any case, we cannot simply await our doom."

  "Even if Madlos permitted you to enter Illuviλofer, allowed you to speak with him, and even listened to your proposal—this war would remain unchanged," Nira said. "You've been away from elves too long; you've forgotten obvious truths. How many soldiers does our kingdom possess? I'll tell you, sister. Forget foreign campaigns—we barely have enough to defend our realm from invasion. Even after the massacres of the Era of Greed, our military has grown only marginally. Currently, the kingdom's forces consist almost entirely of Anlad elves—fewer than a thousand. An entire kingdom defended by less than a thousand warriors!" Anger furrowed her brow. "We Anlad have long been judged by the other three elven clans as bloodthirsty and savage. Yet we're the ones willing to defend our homeland, regardless of how blood-stained our hands become. The Sinor, Lavida, and Faman clans cannot bring themselves to do the same."

  "I have no defense to offer for my people," said Celas, herself a Sinor Elf. "It's undeniable—whenever danger threatens, your Anlad are invariably the first to stand forward."

  "Though our clans differ, we are one race. I don't know when the other three will recognize this—see that the Anlad, who bear every baseless reproach, silently guard them all; realize that their excessive nobility, kindness, and compassion will eventually become the blade at their own throats—just as in the dwarven slaughter during the Era of Greed. True, the dwarves had indeed lost their reason and retained only brutality, but we elves were partly responsible for cultivating that behavior..." She sighed, shaking her head. "Enough. I'll stop criticizing your people. You still possess your brilliance: poetry, music, painting, architecture, and forging. All things beautiful are engraved in your souls—in this, you truly excel."

  "The Anlad have their artistic mastery as well." Celas took Nira's hand. "At least between us, I see little difference. There will be Sinor who awaken as we have, though perhaps it requires time."

  Nira placed Celas's hand back on her knee. "Once, in a brothel on Brin Isle, I encountered an exceptionally beautiful succubus. She had hair like a golden waterfall—like yours." She toyed with Celas's tresses. "After sharing the night, I told her something similar—that elves would eventually awaken, but needed time. She replied, 'Time is not your enemy... Eternity is.'"

  "What was your response?"

  "She left the room before I could answer. I felt... profoundly empty."

  "Did she know you were... one of the Gods? I mean, did she know you were blessed by the Water of Eternity?"

  "I think not." Nira's reminiscence seemed remarkably tender. "But she said that when our eyes first met, she glimpsed eternity in mine. Though I've never thought these black eyes of mine held anything worth seeing."

  "For us, perhaps eternity is our enemy. But for most mortals, time is their adversary, because—"

  "They have no eternity to squander."