Etal, the god of rainstorms, stepped out of his palace and made his way to his chariot. It was daytime, yet the sky was dark and heavy with clouds, a storm brewing with thunder rumbling in the distance. He tried to calm his nerves—this was his fourth palace already. He couldn't risk destroying it like the others by accidentally unleashing a storm. But he was late, and the tension made it hard to stay composed.
The four winged beasts tethered to the chariot snorted as Etal approached. He turned to the two guards holding the reins.
"Listen up, bottleheads. You better fly like your lives depend on it. If I'm late and don't arrive in style for all the hot royal goddesses to admire me, I'll make sure you spend eternity shitting your guts inside a storm," Etal said, running his fingers through his hair as he climbed into the chariot.
The chariot launched into the air, tearing through the sky at lightning speed. The beasts howled ferociously, their wings slicing through the stormy space. Etal glanced out the window at Tak, his beloved world, which grew smaller and smaller as the chariot ascended.
Tak was his everything—his heaven, his sanctuary. He couldn't imagine leaving it behind. But the royal assembly was mandatory for all gods, including him.
Sometimes he fantasized about standing before the Supreme God and outright refusing to attend. But no one had dared such defiance since the Great Battle of the Ages, where the Supreme God obliterated Mavkira, the all-powerful god of elements, reducing him to nothing more than a pile of smoked fish. No one wanted to share that fate.
As the chariot sped through the vast expanse of space, Etal found himself mesmerized by the vibrant colors of stars and the endless stretch of worlds ahead. But eventually, even that grew dull.
When they arrived at Meshtara, Etal's boredom dissipated. Meshtara, a ring of seven worlds encircling the True World—the seat of the Supreme God—was breathtaking.
Hundreds of chariots descended onto Fisul, a gravitational forcefield created by the space gods. It was the drop-off point for guards and beasts; only the royals could access the True Realm.
Etal grimaced at the thought of Priconsan, the wind spirit responsible for guiding them to the True World. The experience was always unsettling.
A tap on the door pulled Etal from his thoughts.
"Your Majesty," one of the guards said, kneeling. "My comrade and I, along with the beasts, will remain here as you proceed to the True World."
Etal stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Actually, I'd love for you all to accompany me to the Supreme God's throne. Consider yourselves my guests."
The guard's face turned pale. Anything non-royal that passed through the Meshtara would be incinerated instantly.
"Your Majesty..." the guard stammered, his voice quivering.
Etal smirked, relishing the guard's panic. "Relax, I'm only joking. But wasn't it sweet of me to offer?"
The guard remained silent, trembling.
"Let me tell you a story," Etal began, leaning back with mock solemnity. "Once, a fifteen-year-old boy prayed for a drizzle during his date. He thought rain was romantic. I obliged, softening the mood as he confessed his feelings on a bridge. His words were so touching, they nearly brought me to tears."
The guard nodded hesitantly. "What happened next, my Lord?"
"The girl rejected him," Etal said, rolling his eyes. "She called him a nerd, said he wasn't worthy of her, and admitted she only kept him around for homework help. Her cruelty enraged me. I cried so hard, I accidentally caused a storm that collapsed the bridge. Serves her right."
The guard coughed awkwardly. "Wasn't the boy on the bridge as well, Your Majesty?"
Before Etal could answer, he noticed Goddess Sih standing beside his chariot, a serene smile gracing her face. Her pale pink hair and matching eyes radiated ethereal beauty, but Etal wasn't impressed. She wasn't his type.
"What do you want?" he asked bluntly. "I know I'm good-looking, but keep your desperation in check."
Sih's smile faded into calm neutrality. "Not even going to invite me to sit, honey? Never mind, I'll help myself."
She dissolved into pink sparkles and reappeared inside the chariot, seated beside him.
Etal scowled. "I have no feelings for you, Sih. Stop pushing your luck."
"Are you sure?" she teased, touching his chest lightly. "Your heart says otherwise. It's racing, honey. Clearly, my presence excites you."
Etal shoved her hand away, flustered. "Why are you here?"
"You're as dense as ever," she replied with a sigh, resting her head on his shoulder. "One day, we'll marry and live on a mountain with four little ones. Our home will be filled with love—beautiful, amazing love."
Etal's irritation grew. He'd heard tales of Sih scaring away male gods with her marriage fantasies, but experiencing it firsthand was a nightmare.
Before he could respond, a trumpet blast echoed across the realm, signaling departure. Chariots lifted into the air as Priconsan's winds howled, carrying the gods toward the True World.
The journey through the winds was always nauseating, but Sih seemed unaffected. Her head remained on his shoulder, her breathing steady, as though she had fallen asleep.
Etal closed his eyes, bracing for the tickling sensation of passing through the Meshtara's protective circle. And then, they were in.