<span style="font-family:mate"><div style="margin-left: 20px"><span style="font-size: 22px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#8fb4cf">LAUREL</span></span>​</div></span><span style="font-family:mate">Maybe it had been chosen. Maybe it was fortune. And maybe it was just in the right place at the right time. Whatever the case, the navy blue mockingbird had a shock when magic and warmth surrounded its frail body. Its wings became arms and its talons became toes. Gone was its beak, its feathers, and its marvelous midnight blue tail. A face grew in its place: a face with warm, porcelain skin and a body with gently sloping curves. A rich, heavy cloth skirt covered its legs and a fitted leather corset protected its torso. <i>It</i> became <i>she</i>: a bipedal creature that could pass as human. Could, if it weren’t for the abnormal length of her clawed fingers and the mystical staff she carried with her. The mockingbird blinked its human eyes and, for the first time, heard her name: <i>Laurel.</i></span><br/><br/><span style="font-family:mate"><div style="margin-left: 20px"><span style="font-size: 22px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#dbaae3">AQUARIA</span></span>​</div></span><span style="font-family:mate"><a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fi.imgur.com%2Fs2MIDIP.jpg&amp;hash=31f39f99ca40e0525eeb5889aca84e6e" href="https://i.imgur.com/s2MIDIP.jpg" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">Aquaria Vitanus</a>, goddess of water and fertility, was in the middle of communing with her oracles, the Daughters of Vitanus, when it happened. An ominous shiver ran down her spine and her skin grew cold, like the chill of a door slamming shut in one’s face. The goddess shook her head and thought nothing of it, at first. It was the height of the summer season and there was business to conduct. Autumn was a season of harvest and celebration, but more importantly, it was a season of birth. Children conceived in the previous year’s winter months would be born, and fall festivities would bring about another round of conceptions. It was a critical time of year for Aquaria and her followers. Her siblings knew not to interrupt.<br/>
<br/>
“Is something wrong, milady?” The oracle wearing the mask and colors of Karn said.<br/>
<br/>
It was inevitable that someone, if not everyone, would feel the goddess’s concern during the communion. Some of her oracles were hundreds of miles away from one another, but their faith and Aquaria’s magic brought their spirits close. With that connection came a sensitivity to the emotions of all those involved. There could be no secrets between them. And that’s what made it hard for Aquaria to lie.<br/>
<br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#dbaae3">“Not at all, child,”</span> she answered. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#dbaae3">“Let us continue.”</span><br/>
<br/>
Aquaria closed her eyes and continued her readings. She spoke tales of women across the land and predestined the results of their pregnancies. Not long in to the session, her visions became dark. It wasn’t uncommon for Aquaria to sprinkle in a few “bad ends”, but fewer and fewer women were to have successful childbirths. Some were even bound to die before they were due. Ten. Twenty. One hundred ruined souls. Stories she’d written were unwritten. Something had gone wrong.<br/>
<br/>
The goddess steeled herself and pushed the limits of her foresight to get to the bottom of it. A wind passed through her locks and gave them the appearance of gentle steams flowing in the air. The smell of fresh seaside breeze wafted from her as her pupils dilated. Her gaze shifted left and right as if searching for something, <i>through</i> something, but she was met with darkness. She could see were the women, their faces, their names, and their deaths. What she couldn’t see was <i>why</i>?<br/>
<br/>
A minute of silence passed before Aquaria gave up. She pursed her lips and suspected that one of her peers was planning war. Or maybe the god of winter was planning a devastation. It irritated her and before any of her oracles could inquire, she spoke: <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#dbaae3">“Death will abound as fall becomes winter, even crippling those that stand strong as oxen in the present moment. Take heed and return to your villages, my children. Until next we meet.”</span></span><br/><br/><span style="font-family:mate"><div style="margin-left: 20px"><span style="font-size: 22px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#dbaae3">AQUARIA, ACHERON, &amp; PANTHEON</span></span>​</div></span><span style="font-family:mate"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#dbaae3">“What do you think you're doing? No one said anything about a war this winter. I have to rewrite all of my plans!”</span> Aquaria appeared from a portal of light and shoved Acheron, the armored god of death. He staggered but quickly recovered and squared his shoulders until the water goddess was small in the shadow of his authority. Acheron was not one to be toyed with. His personality was the exact opposite to Aquaria’s liveliness and whimsy; however a mutual reliance on one another brought them close. He, the god of death and she, the goddess of fertility. Death was dependent on the existence of Life just as Life was dependent on the balance Death brought. Acheron tended to look the other way when Aquaria irked him, but even he had his limits.<br/>
<br/>
“<i>Silence</i>!” he spat. His voice was a growl that echoed throughout the hall. It shattered Aquaria’s rage to pieces as she flinched beneath him. Seeing this of his sister, Acheron lowered his tone to a whisper and folded his arms. He waited for the sharp rise in tension to ebb before continuing. “What does it matter? I make my living on your choices, mistakes, and consequences.” Aquaria wrinkled her brow.<br/>
<br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#dbaae3">"So then you know what happened,"</span> she said.<br/>
<br/>
"Of course I do." Getting answers out of Acheron could be like pulling teeth.<br/>
<br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#dbaae3">“And you know who did it.”</span> The god of death turned his head to the side. His silence was a period at the end of their conversation.<br/>
<br/>
Aquaria heaved a frustrated sigh. She waved her hand, rudely dismissing her elder brother, and marched straight to the Great Hall. The hall itself was little more than a meeting place, but its size and eloquence was what made it great. Corinthian columns lined the halls perimeters. Atop the pillars were plush thrones belonging to one of the many gods and goddesses of the pantheon. Each throne and pillar was decorated in a style and fashion chosen by its owner. Everyone had their place at the table. Everyone's voice mattered.<br/>
<br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#dbaae3">“Acheron. Cafrac.”</span> Aquaria called on her siblings one by one, summoning them for an emergency meeting. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#dbaae3">“Sanita.”</span> There was a grand confusion as the gods and goddesses trickled in. Some, like Acheron, looked annoyed and bothered while others whispered between themselves, curious. A few were even worried. Aquaria refused to acknowledge them until she'd finished her list and everyone was present and accounted for. She stilled the buzz of conversation with a grand speech.<br/>
<br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#dbaae3">"Brothers. Sisters. I call upon you for there has been a change in the tides. I don't want to make assumptions..."</span> Her voice trailed off. She truly didn't want to assume that one of her peers and siblings had betrayed the confidence of the group, but she wouldn't put it past the seedier gods in the bunch. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#dbaae3">"But unknown forces are acting upon our will as we speak. The future we've planned has been undone, rewritten, and I demand to know the reason why. Close your eyes. Gaze into your domains and witness the changes in the land, the population, the hope. This hall is where we come together to break bread with one another and decide fates. It's where we settle disputes and uphold balance. It would break my heart to know that one of us has gone against the will of the pantheon." </span><br/>
<br/>
Aquaria looked around, making eye contact with her peers. That's when it struck her. The empty seat.<br/>
<br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#dbaae3">“Has anyone seen Tantam?”</span></span><br/><br/><span style="font-family:mate"><div style="margin-left: 20px"><span style="font-size: 22px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#8fb4cf">LAUREL</span></span>​</div></span><span style="font-family:mate">For <i>them</i>, time was immeasurable.<br/>
<br/>
Laurel couldn’t tell you how long it had been since she first entered his paradise. In a haven where basic needs were taken care of and every day was good, the concept of “seconds” and “days” and “hours” meant nothing. There was only daytime and nighttime, and of the two, Laurel preferred mornings. She made a habit of waking up just before the sun rose so she could greet her master with a song. She never practiced and she never prepared. Her lips simply channeled the notes and melodies that came to her innocent little mind. She liked to think her master, Lord Tantam, enjoyed these greetings, so such was the way she welcomed every single sunrise.<br/>
<br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#8fb4cf">“Good morning, Lord Tantam,”</span> Laurel said in a soft, smooth tone. She was bent over the sleeping god holding a single green plant between her thumb and first finger. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#8fb4cf">“It's bound to be a wonderful day: I found a four leaf clover in the patch beneath my willow tree. That makes us lucky.”</span> She winked. By now, Tantam might have amassed a collection of such gifts and trinkets. Like a mother bird, Laurel had the habit of bringing back odds and ends to her hatchling. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#8fb4cf">“Are we going to pick up where we left off yesterday? You were just about to show me how to make the blueberry bushes I love so much."</span></span><br/><br/><a class="username" data-user-id="114" data-username="@Andraus" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/114/">@Andraus</a>