Among the glittering valley, nestled into the scar that runs through Vada lie Naota's new temple. Even as Serci stood close to it, the structure flittered in and out of reality, threating ro dissapear in a blink of an eye. A warm and eager, yet nervous smile lay on his femeine face. Long, flowing golden hair fell in neat flat strands, stoping just above his slender hips. His usual light grey robes were accompanied by his smooth, pristine cape. Angela's emblem shined as the only splash of color that dotted his monochrome color clothing style. Unforentuly, it seemed his robes had shrunk when he had washed them. His robes clung tightly to his small chest and accentuated his slender stomache. The sound of cloth rubbing against soft, pale skin could be heard as he opened the large ornate doors that led into his mentor's temple. 

Closing the doors gently, he took a moment to pause and observe Naota's new taste in temple architecture the ruby flames that dotted the silver walls were a nice touch, he had to admit. His mind wandered thinking back on those cold days, far above the cloud line in Naota's temple. He did favor the open view of the snow temple. The chilling atmosphere also endeared Serci to the old temple, though thinking back to the sweaty training sessions he and Naota shared, he remembered he was never once cold while he was there. Walking through silver halls and into the marble common room, he decided he favored the old temple. Whether it be bias, nostalgia, or the intense meditations with Naota, the memories of the old temple were held dear to Serci's heart. 

Walking down the stairs with the elegant grace of the noble he was, a slender hand grazing softly on the side rails as he made his way down. His golden blonde hair bobbed up and down as he walked. As he made his way onto the marble floor of the common room, the absence of people stood out. Of course, at this hour of the night, it made sense that his clergy had crawled into their beds. The absence of Naota was also present, but knowing him, he was probably off in one of the gardens in deep mediation. With a sigh, Serci sat his self down near one of the kotatsus, digging through his endless bag, taking out a long slender bottle of Angela's wine. Upon retrieving two beautiful clear classes, stationary with detailed and… sensitive scripture fell out of his bag. Quickly gathering the stationary, he shoved the papers back into his bag, less Naota read the scandalous text.

It had been a week or so since the incident with Xunatar. All ended well, but the sour taste of struggle was still present in Serci's mind. He wished he couldve been at Naota's side, but his place was in the plains, escorting those who were trapped to saftey. Thinking back on it, he had spent more time in Xunatar's influence than Naota's. The short amount of time spent in Naota's influnce were short, but memorable. Images of a snow covered moutain, two lovers wrapped in each others arms. Snow flakes streaking the tips of dark shaggy hair. Long blonde hair lay in messy heaps among clean white bed sheets. But the moments were fleeting. The feelings of pleasure and security were false illusions, and he was more of a help to Naota in Xunatar's influnce rather than Naota's. 

The thought of leaving to find Naota came to Serci, but small beads of sweat dotted Serci's smooth forhead. Taking a moment for reprive, Serci filled his time with a mediation technique that Naota had taught him, so many moons ago. He was excited as to what memories he would make in Naota's new temple.

Nights were usually the most disorienting times in the temple. For Naota at least. It was always so dark in the valley. With the crystals glowing all around it was easy to get lost in believing you were stuck in constant midnight: a star amongst the rest in the sky. It was still taking time to adjust to the absence of the sun, especially for the youngest of his children, but they’d persevered.

He hardly had too much control over how his temples appeared, they more seemed to construct themselves based on his state of mind at the time. When his memories had come flooding back, he’d wished that he could pause time. What better place to achieve that feeling than in constant darkness where it was hard to decipher between day and night? Whereas Suisho no Kyuden had emphasized the day, it was only fitting that bringing in Dreams would lay his temple in eternal night.

Not that The Dreamweaver minded: when you glowed, it was hard to be in total darkness at all times. Though, he remembered with dismay, it was easier to shut out his light now than it had been before. He didn’t like to think of the implications of what that could mean.

As it was, he was one of the few still awake in the temple. Ironically, he hardly slept, despite being a god of dreams. If that was the only reason he stayed stirred for hours throughout the day and all through the night, then it might bring him some comfort. Rather it was that he couldn’t shut his brain off. One thought led into another instead of coming to a stop, and more often than not he felt as if he’d run a mile whilst sitting still.

A sound broke through the quiet of the temple: the main entrance door was opening. Who was visiting at this hour? Usually he spoke with followers through their dreams or nightmares right about now rather than in person. Someone was either in dire straits or terribly lost and seeking shelter. Either way he picked himself up and flickered to the main common room in a silent rainbow spectrum.

Despite the now colorful light that followed him rather than the golden rays of his former realm, his attire was quite dark. His feet were bare, a simple and rather plain pair of black cotton pants hung at his hips, along with a long-sleeved charcoal sweater that clung comfortably to the muscles of his arms while still being loose enough for movement. He was nothing if not mobile, so this was a must. The clothing was stark in comparison to the golds and creamy whites that usually adorned him, but when nightfall came, accompanied by anticipated rest, he dropped pretenses and dressed comfortably.

His footfalls were quiet against the floor as he walked towards the kotatsu, lips parting when he recognized who it was sitting at it. They were a sigh in his mind: here one moment and gone the next. Everyone in Revaliir was like that now, seeing as he now remembered all of his centuries of life. Even so, he spoke his name just as familiarly as he would have before, if not with more surprise, “Serci? What are you doing here in the middle of the night?”

His eyebrows furrowed and his head tilted to the side as he moved to join him: sitting across the kotatsu to face him better. With a wave of his hand a steaming kettle of tea with two clay mugs appeared between them. As he poured them each a hot cup he couldn’t help but notice the way his hair framed his face, or how his robes pressed against him a bit tighter than he remembered last. That, or he just couldn’t help but notice these things more now. Monogamy was still foreign to him, and when you’ve gone more than a thousand years with multiple people, a mere decade seems like a blink.

Even so, he kept his smile plutonic, though his eyes glowed brighter with more expression than he normally had before this change. It was a difficult task, trying to pretend to be the way his followers and allies had known him before his memories came back. When he was being honest with himself, it often times felt like it was more trouble than it was worth.

Serci smiled brightly, despite the late hours of the night. A gentle wave of his hand and an affectionate tilt of his head, he gesutered towards the table. Naota took the oppisite side, plopping down, whiffing up warm cups of tea. Steam lazily drifted from the cups as Serci stifled a laugh. He hap prepared his self for a change in Naota. It was no diffrent than Angela and Dalanesca when their domains shifted. They were different, yet still the very same person he knew. But Naota looked just so darn tired. It was the irony that brought the laugh from his slender throat. He took a small moment to admire the lord of light adorned in such dark clothing. In a way, it was fitting for the new god of dreams to be clad in dark clothing. Taking a small sip of the tea, he tasted a tad hint of honey. Serci closed his eyes, smiling pleasntly as the god of light had remembered his prefence in tea after all this time. 

"I came to see you." Serci said quietly. Running a delicate hand through his hanging blonde hair, he gazed into Naota's endless fields of emerald eyes. Serci's expression was open and honest with hint of concern in the tone of his voice. "I know things are stressful right now, especially considering what had happened with Xuntar." His voice trailed off at the mention of the god of darkness, however, his face twisted into one of pain and anger for the briefest of moments. Taking a moment to regain his calm composure, Serci locked eyes with Naota. His cool blue eyes held a soft a expression, yet one that was curious. "You were never alone, you know." He said, before dropping his gaze, tracing small circles on surface of the kotasu. "I may be Angela's champion in name, but I fight for my friends." 

His voice raised a few levels the next time he spoke, yet still keeping his voice quite. "I cant even begain to count the amount of travellers I escorted to the saftey of your squares. Everytime, though, I would think as hard as I could to send you postive thoughts." Brushing a strand of his blonde hair away, his eyes now held passion and an edge of severity. "I thought, 'Don't give up, Naota. I will handle things here, so you fight back with everything you've got.'" His cheeks grew hot, as they glowed softly with embarrassment. Looking down, breaking the connection of their eyes, he spoke once again, "I never knew if those words reached you, but I never once stopped." With averting his gaze from Naota's steele green eyes, the flush in Serci's face slowly faded back to his pale complexion. 

With a sigh, his tight robes following the contour of the rise and fall of his chest. "Anyways," He gestured to the silver walls and marble floor. "I admire the new temple, however, I think I favor the old one." Serci giggled, boyishly. The laugh was still quite and soft, holding a quaility of sincerity and warmth. "I don't know. Something about the open air of the mountains and the endless snow covered range. But. I guess my opinion doesn't matter." Soft giggles eventually faded to a still smile as he looked upon the tired god. "Thank you for the tea," Serci said earnestly, before gesturing towards the bottle of wine. "But you know I pefer harder beverages. Besides. It might help with sleep." He lightly jested before calming down and asking with a slow and genuine manner. "My company isnt keeping you from anything is it?"

His eyebrows rose, not bothering to hide his surprise that he’d decided to come visit him for the sake of his company. There was a slight pang of guilt, knowing that he was hardly the same man that he remembered. Hopefully that wouldn’t affect their friendship too deeply. His eyes hardened when he mentioned Xunatar, but that little episode was over. There was a forced resignation between him and his fellow deity, and truth be told he wasn’t sure how long that would last.

However, his lips parted when Serci spoke of the lengths he’d been going to in order to fight for Naota’s side during the whole fiasco. An unexpected blush crossed his cheeks and he cleared his throat and took a sip of his tea; unused to any feeling slightly resembling bashfulness. He caught himself and smiled, his eyes shining brighter in gratitude, “I thank you for that then. Rather you fighting the good fight than cursing my name for causing upheaval in the world in the first place.” That wasn’t to say that he didn’t regret how he’d reacted. If he’d just held back the urge to punch his smug face then maybe none of this would have happened.

He also dropped his gaze to his own mug, feeling all at once incredibly humbled to know that this one individual had tried so hard to fight for the sake of his name. He didn’t feel worthy of that effort. It had been a while since he’d felt so humbled, but it had been even longer than he’d made a mistake so drastic that it nearly cost a world its livelihood. The Voice hadn’t taken away his deity hood though, so that had to at least mean something.

The emerald of his eyes slowly shifted to a dull smoky quartz as he rose them back up to meet Serci’s across the kotatsu. He both inspired him and shamed him. That shame was good though: it would urge him to do better, to actually be worthy of those that thought highly enough of him to put their lives on the line.

He breathed into an easy smile as he gestured around the temple, a slow nod preceding his words, “I do love this temple, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t homesick at times for the mountain top.” He’d yet to visit the old spot where Suisho no Kyuden had rested, fearful that he’d have too negative of a reaction if he did so. Lately, it seemed, if he wanted for things too strongly it had bad reactions. “It is much darker here though, isn’t it…” he admitted, his voice growing softer, more drawn in thought. At times it felt as if his new realm of dreams was trying to snuff out how much influence he had over light. It was something he tried not to think about too often or for too long.

He arched a playful eyebrow, the smile on his lips shifting to a coy smirk, “Well I’m never one to pass up on a good drink.” He reached and took the bottle, producing an opener seemingly out of thin air before proceeding to open the bottle. He shook his head, “You’re not keeping me from anything, I assure you. You’re humbling me greatly by your words though, I will say.” He laughed gently, the sound slowly filling the room due to the acoustics. It both surrounded the space while amplifying the fact that the two of them were very much alone in such a great area.

Two glasses appeared and he poured them each some of the liquid from the bottle; sliding Serci’s glass across the kotatsu in time to see a lock of his golden hair drape along his shoulder. He took a sip from his own glass before he could let his thoughts drift too far, relishing in the bitter burn down his throat. “What have you been up to since I last saw you?”

Serci's face twisted slightly at Naota's remark about missing the moutain top. Had he not visited the former location since his accesion of dreams? Serci let the thought run through his mind, deciding to bring it back up later. A femeine hand gently swept up a locke of blond hair that had draped across his shoulder, tucking in neatly behind his ear. "Where do I even begin?" Serci chuckled. "Things have quited down since Myrra's birth, however, life is full of surprises." He reached for his wine glass, bringing it up swirling the glass. Smelling the earth notes and hints of berries gave his skin goosebumbs. Taking the glass to his lips, he sipped softly, bringing it down and meeting Naota's icy gaze.

"And there is the champion situation." Serci's eyes steeled as his voice grew serious. "Dieties are taking champions, Naota. Even Dalanesca is holding some sort of tournament to decide hers." There was a slight hint of amusment in his voice, however mostly drawn out with worry. "I suppose her champion is the one I fret over the most. He is supposed to be my antithesis. My opposite. Dalanesca made quite the point when she explained it to me. And I am supposed to 'get along' with this person." A small snort of disdain escaped his lips. The gesture surprised Serci enough to bring his hand over his mouth and excuse his self for his rude behavior. "Anyways. Angela acts as the mother of the conclave, I hope I can have a similar postion to the champions. Someone they can look up to and follow. Or at the very least, confide in. Championship can be tasking at times…" His voice trailed off, shaking off negitive vibes.

Naota was hard to read, his expression was stoic, making it hard to gauge if Serci was boring him. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep. "And then there is you." Serci said with curioisty, raising his glass to Naota as Serci spoke. "Your champion intreasts me greatly." A coy smile cracked Serci's lips. "Or. Perhaps. I leave Anglea behind, I resign my title of Divine Artificer and I become yours." He jested. A eruption of chortles bursted from Serci. The silence of the room was only amplified with Serci's girlish giggles bouncing off the empty room's walls. "I say that, but it would never come to fruition. I'm afaid I'm more of an 'awake' champion rather one of dreams." 

"I guess you could kidnap me, though." Serci said, with a shrug of his shoulders. "Take me, against my will to do your bidding?" He said, slowly, tracing pictures on the surface of the table they were seated under. The comment was made as a humorous joke, however, his cheeks grew warm as has face ran read. Quickly taking his drink to calm his nerves, he sat back down, now empty. With a sigh, he stood up, slowly walking to Naota's side of the table. A long delicate finger ran along the surface as he bent down in front of Naota, some of his hair unfurling onto Naota's shoulder. Serci's hand softly brushed it aside, feeling Naota's warmth and the muscles in his shoulder. This close, Serci could feel Naota's hot breath on his neck, his eyes piercing through his own. A slow, soft, hot whisper was breathed as Serci angled his neck. "Be a gentleman." He whispered, gesturing towards his empty glass

With his glass filled, Serci took the seat next to Naota, sitting perpendicular rather than across from him. "Well, enough about me. I am more intreasted in what you have been doing, other than not sleeping, god of dreams." He jested lightly. "You mentioned you missed the mountian top? Have you not visited the location? He asked. "Would you like to take a vacation? One away from champions, wifes, and domains. We could visit where Suishō no Kyūden used to domain?" He asked, warmly. Serci wouldnt mind visitng that glistening snow covered mountain, and he greatly welcomed Naota's company. "You do seem tied up though. I cant even began to imagine the amount of stress you have to deal with. Tell me, how are you adjusting to your new domain?"

Ah yes, Angela and Drae’s youngest. He doubted anyone would ever be able to forget her birth, there hadn’t been one quite so eventful. Only their child would have such an exciting birth, and he found himself smiling. As it was he hadn’t seen the couple and their newest aside from the celebration after her birth. He too looked down into his cup, swirling the liquid within slowly as he listened to Serci.

The other man’s voice grew more serious and his eyes were drawn back up as he spoke of champions. For some reason he didn’t seem too pleased, or perhaps he was just reading him wrong. When it came to champions he never knew what to say and what not to say. So far, he hadn’t even entertained the thought of taking one on for himself. Especially with everything that had been happening with him? He didn’t want to subject any other person to that. Lucky for him people weren’t really lining up at the door for the position.

When it came to the affairs of other deities he was embarrassingly uninformed sometimes. Even before his memories had returned he’d been one to stay in isolation. No, not isolation: solitude. Shiloh had tried in her own Shiloh way to form a connection and he appreciated it; Drae was someone he liked to think of as a friendly acquaintance; Angela was who he was closest with and had become like a surrogate mother to him even if he’d never admit it; Xunatar…that one was simple: enemy number one; Dalanesca was an ally at least; and he’d yet to even have a full conversation with their two newest of the conclave. He was so bad at internal affairs, and worse now than he had been before.

So, when Serci spoke of Dalanesca entertaining the idea of a champion, needless to say, his interest was piqued. The two were allies but only by definition. Serci had a point though, and he understood his worry. Despite that, he shook his head, offering a small smile, “I wouldn’t fret too much about Dalanesca: she loves to bite and sometimes her tongue is what does the most damage.”

He took a sip of his wine, “You are Angela’s champion, that means you have great strength to you. Don’t let the hypothetical worries of tomorrow tarnish the strength of today.” Strength, perseverance, those things were no longer his realm but the philosophies were still there. He propped his elbow on the table and rested the side of his head against his palm; the smile on his lips spread into a playful grin, “Championship is tiring you say? I wouldn’t have any idea what that’s like…” he hummed in jest.

Both eyebrows shot up when he gestured to him, “And then there’s me?” He laughed when he mentioned his own champion, “Ah yes, my imaginary champion. He’s quite good.” He straightened back up from his lean and rested the cup down, letting his fingers trace around the rim as he watched him. “Awake you say? Hm,” he smirked, looking around the empty common room, allowing himself to feel out the dreams of those lost in slumber at his temple, “Things here stay almost too calm. Coming from a place like Angela’s grounds, I’m sure you’d be bored to sleep after one week,” he laughed.

And then the conversation shifted, causing the smile to fade from his lips. He was left only to watch him as he walked around the table to sit on his side. With how close he was now he could feel each time he shifted, smell the cloth of his robes, feel the whisper of his hair as it moved along his shoulder from their newfound closeness. His thoughts returned to Echo, as they always did when he felt his mind stray, and he pushed his own cup further from himself. He rested his arm on the table where it had been as if that was the whole reason he’d moved it away.

There was an absence he’d felt since remembering that every lover he’d had was now dead. Not dead in Revaliir where he might one day see them again in the soul stream. Dead. Gone. Nothing. Every person he’d loved, each one he had been in a relationship with as he’d had many at once…the void was too wide and it wasn’t fair to his wife to take the weight of it. There wasn’t even anyone to talk to about it. How did you talk to your monogamous wife about your past polyamorous life? You didn’t.

And now with Serci so close to him, their breathing intermingled, the scent of his hair brushing against his own neck, it was enough to form a pit in his stomach. He blinked quickly and looked over at the empty cup; reaching out to take the wine and pour him more. Just as quickly as the moment had come, it was gone, and he was left feeling breathless. He swallowed down the burn that had started in the back of his throat and managed a weak smile; being sure to no longer look at him and instead focus on the designs of the bottle.

Suddenly the focus was on him, the one place he didn’t want it to be right now. What could he say? What had been up to? More horrible things than he wanted to unload on someone else. So instead he forced his smile to spread, “There isn’t that much to report on me sadly.” Probably the biggest lie he’d tell all year.

“The tree saw fit to alter my domain and I’ve been working hard at doing it justice. Falling into place can be a bit sticky: light and strength came so easily, but dreams are fluid,” he shook his head a little and looked back at him, away from the bottle. He wanted to speak, so badly, but the words wouldn’t come. He was so used to being an ear to others that he had no idea how to talk to anyone else about his own issues.

“I’d like to visit Suisho no Kyuden,” he admitted, and for just a moment his eyes weakened. The smile faltered, and for a brief heart beat of time he allowed the fatigue to show on his face before pulling it back. “I just don’t know if I’m ready to yet…” he whispered, as if it were some horrible thing to admit. The former deity of strength showing weakness, the irony wasn’t lost on him, but he tried his best not to linger.

This wasn’t right. It wasn’t right, and it wasn’t fair, not to Serci. He’d come there to see him, to make good memories and catch up. Happy things. He bit the inside of his cheek and straightened back up, the smile returning to his lips as he pushed his troubles down to a place that he could later access in the middle of a crystallized forest where no one would be hurt. “I fear that if I go on a vacation my wife will literally have my head,” he laughed, the sound barely echoing around the empty room. “But we should make time,” he said.