In a time only elder Elves would remember, the Elvenhome faced a depressing drought – the first and only season of dryness ever witnessed in the great land. The earth bore no yield, snow did not fall, fresh waters ran low until all their sources began to dry up, and the plants yearned for moisture to the point where the once green paradise turned brown. That era was one rarely spoken of. Many Elves still believed it to be a cursed period, and they forbade all kinds of conversations relating to that time for they dreaded the possibility of a reincursion.

Back then, suffering became so grave that the Elves came very near to the point of starvation. They were led to believe that the gods had deserted them completely. Unlike a few other realms, Alpgeton's self-sufficient magic was widely known to be sourced in a god's power, much like the Crysotoni. Only juniper's sustenance gave them food as hers was dominion over the yields of the earth.

This horrible shortage lasted a long number of years, until the king at that time, desperate for a way to prevent his people from dying out, gave an order for every last bit of edible in the Elvenhome to be salvaged and gave them up in a large offering to Juniper. His show of selfless belief provoked the goddess to visit the Elves in person and she blessed their land with her very hands, restoring it to a fullness never before seen in the history of all the seven realms.

"So, you are telling me," Waverly lifted her leg with care to cross over a moss-grown log in her path. "That if I were to gather every last bit of food I can find and give it up as an offering, then I could attract the interest of a god?"

Diarmaid glanced at her and grimaced. "Don't talk like you haven't done it before!"

Her shoulders lifted in a careless shrug. "That time it was actually deer, not food."

The pair were taking a leisurely stroll through the Woodlands and had ventured way past Diarmaid's treehouse, which he liked to think was a landmark of the entire woodland settlement. Not that he was right. Waverly knew he only made the claim because the expanse of land behind his tree was a thousand times larger than the one before it. He liked to think of his backyard as his own private turf, even though the Great Jungle bled into it after some two hundred yards or thereabout.

By now, they had entered deep into the forest. Much of these parts had undergone what she thought of as an excessive growth — if the term could apply to plants — whereas other places that had been affected by the fires of the Great Unrest were still fairly sparse, growing at snail speed. She enjoyed watching the blue singing thrushes flutter from branch to tree, collecting twigs to make a nest; most of which dropped from their beaks into the vibrant stream below. The waters rushed with such strength that Diarmaid had almost been swept away when he dared to dip a leg in. Somewhere beyond the trees and dew covered leaves were a row of goosefoots. They used to grow nearer to the stream, but in recent years, more invasive vegetation had pushed them back. Elves would not cut down a bush unless it were absolutely necessary to make a road there and a Derew did not abide in any of them.

"I doubt it would require a lot of. . . effort to call to your mother." Diarmaid's focus did not break from the pathless forest ahead.

Waverly's arm, which had been looped securely in his own since they set out, finally loosened. She came to a slow stop, grabbing his arm so that he would do likewise.

"Do you doubt she'd come?" She questioned, tilting her head to assess him. He did not seem skeptical, only a little sad.

His eyes lowered to her level. "I only hope that she does. You need her, now more than ever."

Again, her head moved. Now, she had become uncomfortable with the whole idea of not being able to summon Selene. Her voice fell when she spoke. "Do you have any clue what happened?"

Diarmaid's left eyebrow lifted like the head of a suspicious mother hen. "You mean why the gods have become distant."

She confirmed with an almost invisible nod.

He drew in a soft breath and his gaze casually swept across the quiet environment, but not in an attempt to check for possible eavesdroppers. If anything, he seemed as if he was trying to find the answer to her question amongst the trees.

"I don't know, Waverly." His bland tone was equally low. "This problem was detected quite some time ago. The elves have tried all they can to understand it, but nothing makes sense, nothing adds up."

She inched closer to him, her facial nerves weakening from the revelation. "How long?"

For a count of twenty, he was quiet and simply stared at her. Then, he sighed and said, "Since the Unrest."

Her eyes widened. "That was when I left."

He gave slow nods. Then, unexpectedly, his mood brightened and he took her hand again, turning to continue their walk. "I'm sure we will figure it out. Besides, you are yet to give it a try yourself. Maybe when you do, then we shall finally get an explanation, or something close to that."

Waverly's mind drifted, causing her eyes to grow distant. She began to speak even before she registered her lips moving. "Judson met Gzrel, and Harper. . . and Juniper and Camar."

Diarmaid halted, turning to look at her with his lips parted as if he was either about to laugh or say something, but his forehead wrinkled in a soft frown when he realized her words. "Yes, he told us about The Grump. Harper? That's interesting! I thought she was self confined to the Valleys of the Central West."

"What for?" For a moment, she was interested in the reason, then she shook the thought away and refocused on their current subject. "I think it's best I talk to Jud. Juniper is his mother."

Diarmaid seemed to ponder. "Did he say when his last meeting with her was?"

She thought for a moment. "Not exactly. Yet we can try. If we can get through to her, then maybe she could explain to him why all of this is happening."

Whether for her sake or for the sake of his own peace of mind, Diarmaid refrained from arguing with the suggestion. Instead, he gave a solemn nod. "Alright then! The last I saw of him he was being whisked away by a bunch of Derews. My guess is – he's in Eden."

Waverly looked around and felt a slight pang of sadness grow in her chest. She could not remember how to navigate the forest.

Diarmaid sensed her distress and smiled comfortingly. "It's that way," he pointed to the left of them. "We'll have to skirt the cliff, but going back to use the main tracks would take us twice as long. Thoughts?"

"Shortcut." She decided at once.

Hand in hand, they turned away from the direction of the stream and entered into the trees. The condition of the environment made Waverly feel clammy. A cold breeze blew from behind, as if the water was breathing right on their backs. The trees grew closer in some areas and farther apart in others, acting like columns in a narrow hallway.

Diarmaid was telling her a funny story about his most mischievous dog, Elisel, when a soft ruffle from within the bushes on his side distracted him.

"Rabbit?" Waverly asked when he stared a little longer than normal.

"Rabbits aren't that tall." He released her arm and gave it a small pat. "I'll just look for a moment."

As he said, he disappeared into the cluster for only a moment and came back out with a grin.

"What was it?" She wondered.

"A Derew." He shook his head. "She was in quite a hurry, but aren't they all?"

Waverly broke a little smile, remembering Cassiope. The only Derew to take her time and perhaps too much of someone else's. She gave Diarmaid her hand and they continued their walk. The sound of soft ruffles made her glance behind at the bushes, and she wondered if the Derew was back. But nothing showed itself to be the cause of the noise. Because Diarmaid did not bother to look again, she thought to ignore it.

Eventually, they reached the cliff.

"How do we go around?" She asked, squinting furiously. The wind could have rivaled those stream currents by fifty percent.

"Look," He pointed to the furthest surface dipping into a slope. "Rocks touch down to the ground there. We can make our crossing."

As soon as he spoke, he made the approach alone. Waverly was a bit taken aback. She waited a few minutes for him to realize she was not behind, but it took longer for him to.

When he did, he returned wearing a smile. "Why won't you come with?"

Her stare was calculative, but she made sure to conceal it well. "You did not let go of my hand when we were walking on even surface. You're doing it now on a rocky one."

His head made the slightest tilt. He looked oddly amused. If he was going to protest, he gulped it down and held out an open hand. That was all the confirmation Waverly needed. She unsheathed a small knife from the sash around her waist. Phyllis had given it to her after cutting up apples early that morning. The sharp point met a delicate area on Diarmaid's neck.

"Where is he?" Although she tried not to show fear, her quivering lips betrayed her emotions.

Diarmaid's smile was the same. And it was terrifying. "Back there, entwined by poisonous vines. He's but moments til his last breath is drawn."

Her face scrunched into fury and hurt. "What is wrong with you? Let him go!"

"I'll think about it when you do as I say."

Her jaw clenched. Tears rolled down her face. She could not obey. But if she did not, then Diarmaid would die. They were miles away from help. Her insides were quivering and she felt faint. It showed on her hold on the knife. Diarmaid made no attempts to step away from the dangerous point of the blade. He only stared solemnly, awaiting her response.

"I am never going to do what you want!" Waverly gritted her teeth, tasting salt. She was only a few seconds close to collapse and doubted her strength would hold long enough to win. Her disadvantage was at an all-time high.

Diarmaid's scowl was evil. "I wasn't really asking!"

In a blink, Waverly swiped the knife, putting a thin gash in his neck. He reacted to the pain by turning his body away. As he came up to a stand again, Hekate's form replaced his own. The wound was gone. The goddess glowed like a piece of emerald rock in the dark. Her sleek hair, which was usually sleek, was full of big curls and lacked its signature sheen.

"You silly fool!" She snarled, taking up a fixed stance. "Yet, go on and do your best."

Angered by the taunt, Waverly attacked. It took her only a handful seconds to realize that she had forgotten how to use a knife for combat. Her strikes were careless, fueled more by an eagerness to land one blow than actual skill. The goddess simply sidestepped every swing because the knife was only a few inches longer than her index finger. The presence of fear and a growing weakness made Waverly's movements pitifully slow. She could hardly make real contact, and her mind was solely fixed on Diarmaid, whom Hekate had trapped back in a bush of poisonous vines. It made her cry all the more. She could not lose him. A huge part of her wanted to abandon the fight and run back to save his life before it was too late, but the cliff was more than twenty minutes away from the point where Hekate had made the switch.

He would be dead by then.

The next lazy swipe was intercepted by Hekate grabbing hold of her arm.

"Behold!" She mocked, tightening her fingers so that her grip crushed bone. "The so-called legend meant to inspire the hearts of men!"

Waverly was able to register her evil smirk before she sailed back in a violent crash. Her skin tore open in various places under her dress as her body made contact with the rocks.

"Let me show you what real power is." Hekate's arms spread wide in self-glorification and energy enveloped her.

The strength to push herself up did not come, until Waverly began to feel a disturbing sting in her right forearm. She knelt up and was horrified by the sight of her skin eating away. The pain was instant and drove her to madness. She wailed at the top of her lungs, watching her body blacken and burn and peel back, like it was on fire. The heat climbed into her nape, down her stomach and her back, traveling faster by the second. Her screams tore through the cliff side, echoing off for miles into the horizon.

Yet Hekate did not stop.

All she did was stare with a kind of malevolent satisfaction in her eyes and a matching smirk as she made Waverly suffer a dry inferno under the glare of the afternoon sun and the audience of nature around them. In her mind, she knew for a fact the gods were watching from their damned thrones in Enton. There was nothing they could do about it.

Soon, Waverly's cries began to soften as the burns crept into her lungs, shrinking them to uselessness. Her vision narrowed such that the weather turned to night and the sun looked void of its shine, glaring faintly like the light of the moon. Inch by inch, her sight dimmed until her eye sockets began to scorch. The sound was eerie inside her own ears, similar to the noise of fish being roasted in an open fire.

Just then, a hand cupped her shoulder.

The instantaneous wave of relief she felt from that touch created an energy so powerful that it pulled her up to stand on her feet. At the very next moment, Selene was there, turning around to glare at Hekate. The witch was petrified to the bone.

Waverly stared down at her body. Not one single burn was visible anymore. Hekate's torture had completely gone. She placed a hand on her chest, caught between an urge to stand there and cry, or run into the trees. But both deities were engaged in such a silent standoff that she thought it would be abominable for her to even show signs of life.

Instead, she watched them.

"You just couldn't resist, could you?" Hekate was the first to speak. She seemed to have shaken off her initial shock of seeing an Entonian, and Selene for that matter. "No one ever touches your pride. But I did. For half a decade. How does that make you feel?"

Selene said nothing.

"I really thought you were going to watch her die out here, you see." The witch went on in a softer, patronizing tone of voice. Her green eyes even imitated mock sadness. "We both know that that would have been very befitting of your persona."

Still, Selene was quiet. As usual, she looked stunning even though she wore only silver silk that cascaded down her feet into a small pool of glistening fabric. Her dark hair was let down, concealing the entire upper half of her back. No crown was on her head. She could have easily passed as a normal person through looks alone, yet something about her aura felt too strong to be regular. It was impossible to tell if that aura was raw wrath or a shattering sense of self composure.

"It is very signature for you to. . ." Hekate paused dramatically to think of the right word. "Punish people. I thought I should show to you what that feels like from a different perspective. Did I get it right, Selene? Or was I not ruthless enough? Oh! Are you here to show me the right way to go about it, or maybe you didn't bring that old wild animal that people no longer think is befitting of their worship? Pity! She's way more popular than you'll ever be no matter how hard you try; no matter who you try to use to paint a better picture of yourself."

Hekate's giggle was sinister and dripped with mockery.

Waverly glanced at Selene, wondering why the goddess was so mute in spite of the jeering and insults. Just then, the latter turned to meet her gaze and the warmest feeling washed over her being from root to foot. Selene stared for a bit longer then smiled warmly. Waverly could not resist smiling back. All of a sudden she felt sentimental about seeing her mother again after so long. Had the situation been a bit different, she would have given Selene a smoldering hug.

Then, the goddess faced Hekate again and spoke in the slowest pattern, as though literally counting each word. "Oh, what you wouldn't give to feel that one more time!"

The shock of the retort made sentiment fade, and Waverly's eyes bulged. She looked to Hekate, who was about ready to blow steam from her ears, and filled her cheeks with air to resist an urge to burst into laughter. She could not help feeling proud of Selene's classy style of outright insolence. It was secretly admirable.

"How dare you?" Hekate's scream made the earth quake for a split second. She bolted forward in a flash of energy, but stopped only a hairsbreadth of Selene's face, heaving.

Meanwhile, the moon goddess remained as peaceful as a sleeping lamb. "If only temper tantrums could get you somewhere, that would have been better."

Hekate's growl was audible. "I swear—"

"To who?" Selene's eyebrows lifted softly. "Nys? You said you were loyal to no one."

"This is far from over!"

"No, Hekate." Selene's stare raked across her opponent's face, yet her voice stayed calm. "It is over! Right here and right now, it is over, because I say so. And you listen very carefully to me. Should you ever come anywhere near my daughter again or to anyone she holds dear, you will face a reprobrate trial."

Hekate snarled in defiance. Her beastly form appeared for a moment, but it did nothing to faze her rival. "Like you have the authority."

Selene's feathers were beginning to ruffle. Impatience was evident in her tone. "I have the authority to call a seating for it. You are well aware of that! So, be cautious, little girl, or you'll end up just like your mother."

Perhaps to prevent irritating Selene any further, Hekate redirected her glare to Waverly. The latter had the feeling that would be the last time they saw each other. She felt very tempted to speak, but could not find the guts to say a thing. Without another word, Hekate stepped back all the way, spun, and vanished in a dramatic flash of green.

Waverly's nerves finally relaxed. She could not believe how rigid she had been the whole time. Then, all of a sudden, she remembered Diarmaid. But her feet had barely moved before Selene held up a hand to stop her.

"Your friend is alive." She announced, putting her hand down. "I went to him first."

A soft breath escaped Waverly's chest. "Thank you, mother."

Selene's eyes carried a hint of disbelief as well as relief. She looked away shortly, as if eager to hide her emotions. "I am glad that you are alright again and that you have returned to the living."

The sudden change of countenance was troubling. Selene was acting distant. It felt strange. Forced.

"Is that it? You're just. . . glad?"

Selene gave a small nod. "She won't be bothering you anymore."

"Just because you threatened her with a reprobate? What is that anyway?"

A small expression of amusement came over Selene's face. "You have grown in body, but you have not outgrown the curiosity of your mind."

"What happened to Zakoon, that's what a reprobate is, isn't it? You threatened to have her existence wiped out from history."

Selene heaved a sigh. "I cannot have a conversation about that."

"No," Waverly agreed dryly. "But could you tell me why you did it?"

The goddess did not look away. She seemed to understand perfectly. "Eldreda's heart was wrought with evil long before she discovered and began to practice sorcery."

"But it wasn't your judgement to pass."

"Yes, it was." Selene's eyes were sharp, but she was not angry. She was in defence mode. Waverly could recognize the attitude well because she often put it up herself.

"And now look where it got me." She thinned her lips, hoping Selene would feel guilty. "You picked a side and called it good, but you hurt people, too. She's fueled by hurt, and that's why she spent so long plotting a way to get back at you using me."

"Don't defend wickedness!" Selene rebuked, her voice rising a little.

"I've been doing that my whole life!" Waverly snapped back, hoping no Derews were within earshot, otherwise she would sound insane to them. "All I've ever done is defend you. Hekate thinks you're wicked because of what you did to her all those ages ago. And to her, I've been the one defending wickedness!"

"You have not the faintest idea what her and her mother did!" Selene closed the gap between them, with glinting eyes. Her countenance made Waverly recoil both internally and physically. She wanted to believe her mother was being subconsciously intimidating, but a part of her knew Selene was programmed that way. She would always resemble a threat whether she meant to or not.

"Eldreda connived with her daughter to rebel against the gods. They willingly chose violence and spat in our faces time and time again, all the while ignoring caution that we gave to them."

"But was it so wrong to choose a different way just for once?"

Selene paused, straightening. She spared a long, penetrating gaze that would have made anybody believe she was about to blow steam, yet her voice stayed cool. "Disobedience always costs something precious. I know that better than anyone, Waverly. Hekate chose to toy with fate and with authority. She paid the price and even then, refused to learn from her mistakes. I wanted to spare Eldreda."

There, the goddess stopped talking. She spun around, as if weakened by her own statement.

Waverly was itching to know more. She took a few steps after her mother. "Why didn't you?"

Selene was motionless, until she lifted a hand and the leaves before her bent outward. Half a shimmering path appeared in between the greens – something that resembled the wide step of a flight of stairs was at the edge of it. The kind of stone that the step was carved out of looked very foreign and yet pleasing to the eyes.

Her tone came with surprising easy as she placed a foot on the step, revealing that her feet was bare. "She spat in my eye in the presence of a thousand mortals by saying to them that I was a whore goddess." She stole a glance over her shoulder. "You cannot tell anyone that you have seen me today."

Waverly frowned. Hers and Diarmaid's discussion resurfaced in her mind. "Why? Why are you all being so distant?"

Selene's expression was one of genuine sympathy. "I wish I could tell you." Then, she managed a beautiful smile. "It does make me truly happy to see you safe and sound again, my daughter."

Another step and the path was gone from sight, Selene with it.

At that moment, Diarmaid came stumbling, quite confusingly, out from the trees. She ran to grab him. He looked alright, just very disoriented.

"What in the world happened?"

She gripped his midsection in a hug. "I think I want to go back to the treehouse."

"But what about Eden?"

She said nothing. He took that to mean he was not to argue. So, he guided her back the same way they had come, only taking a different path when she requested them to. The ugly image of what Hekate had done to her combined with the mere thought of how she had trapped and tried to kill Diarmaid made her feel foolish for defending the witch goddess. Deep within, she felt that she had done it out of sheer guilt or perhaps from a place of confused sympathy. Whichever it might have been, she could not deny having considered for a moment how it would feel if Selene was killed in front of her. The powerlessness to stop such a thing would drive her insane, and it was the same feeling that had driven Hekate to seek out ways to retaliate.

Regardless, the goddess's motives were still inexcusable and purely evil. Eons had passed since Eldreda died. Hekate could have chosen to take a different path from that of her mother's and done good, perhaps even make a better name for herself and change her misguided ways so she could earn the priceless respect of the Entonians. That thought suddenly came with a string of defamatory ones targeted at Waverly.

Had she not followed in Selene's own footsteps in more than one way?

A feeling of discomfort settled in her gut. Was she not identified more as a child of Alluña than of Selene?

Her mind instantly cooked up defensive answers — she had done more good for people and defended what was right timelessly. She did not kill for pleasure neither did she condemn because she had the power to. A man's life was measured by the merit of his goodness and that was how she viewed all living things. Hekate was the perfect opposite. In a world where she gave people a chance, the witch goddess did not. She blamed the world for her misfortune when her own actions could have rewarded her a lifetime free of strife as well as the prolonged company of a caring mother.

Choosing to stray from the depressing subject, Waverly opted to engage Diarmaid in a conversation about Elisel. She was yet to meet his dogs and even began to look forward to it the more he described them in detail. That and the idea that she would not have to worry about Hekate ever again made her smile.

The only dark cloud on the horizon was that even though Selene's threats were solid, the witch goddess was a pro at mind games. She would keep her distance for her own sake and to preserve her pregnant ego, but her rotten powers were still planted inside Waverly's system like a beacon. It made the latter all the more eager to find a way to get rid of it for good. But now, it seemed as though that would prove more difficult than ever. For some reason, the Entonians were keeping mortals at an arm's distance. Selene had made limited physical contact with her despite them only meeting again for the first time in years. It was worth considering that something crucial was behind their recline. Diarmaid mentioned that the withdrawal had started since during the end of the Great Unrest, which meant there was a good chance she had something to do with it.

If not her, then it had to be the only other person she knew was just as favoured by the gods as herself.

Judson.