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undiscovered-horizon · 2 years ago

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"The Just and the Wicked" - Morpheus x Wisdom!Reader

[TW: blood, violence, suicide, explicit language]

A/N: Watched Sweetbitter (2018) and honestly it was more of angry binging. Those people were ✨frustrating✨ me. I have already made up so much lore about Pillars of Eternity I keep a separate file in Evernote.

[Check out 'Pillars of Eternity'!] | [Next part: 'Que sera, sera'] | [Sandman-inspired playlist]

SUMMARY: Your idyllic life with Morpheus is interrupted by the visit of your brother, Decay, who informs you that one of Karma's agents, a Palace of Justice, had died. The mystery becomes only stranger when an ancient, unholy fraction seems to be involved - the same one that surely helped Rodrick Burgess in capturing you.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 9k

We meet again, dear student! Have you met Hermes again? Well, perhaps he's grown fond of you. I know I have. You are such a great listener, always asking brilliant questions and never interrupting. But enough about you.

You know why you're here, there's no need for me to ask such a rhetorical question. It is also the reason we keep on meeting again and again. Last time we spoke of dreams, wisdom and the strange gift of divinity their union provided. Today, I'd like to tell you a story that my mother used to tell me. In fact, I've heard it from her so many times during my childhood that I'd grow furious any time I heard the word 'karma'. It is only in my old age that I finally understand the importance of this tale. Tell me, when you think of justice, what comes to your mind?

Themis? A great choice! Curiously, she does appear in the story I'm about to tell you. But let me start from the beginning. The coexistence of Decay and Wisdom created Karma. She's not a Pillar of Eternity and neither is she one of the Endless, therefore she falls into the grey area, a truly bottomless sack of wonders, commonly called the Sacra. When humans came into existence, Karma began to have more work than she could possibly handle, so she asked the Pillars to give her something to help her. That's how Themis was created. Her sole purpose was to make sure that justice reigns in the human realm but even justice is a very complex phenomenon. Themis decided to ask Karma for messengers that will deliver different kinds of justice to people. Those messengers are the Palaces of Justice. There are seven of them, well, there used to be seven of them and the circumstances of the death of one of them, the Lion, are the subject of this tale. Everything began when my uncle, Decay, visited my parents in the Dreaming:

The branches of the hazel tree quietly rustled above you as a gentle breeze shyly swayed them in a primaeval dance. A murder of crows sat in the tree but not even Mother Nature could force those ominous birds to interrupt your meditation with their cawing. They were quietly perched on the branches, prepared to take flight into other realms should you ask them to or scare away any distraction that might come your way. The world around was silent but never empty. With each deep breath, your nostrils were filled with the pleasant fragrance of wet soil and hazelnuts but not for too long:

You knew he came and you were sure he was well aware of that. The air in Dreaming suddenly became unbearably sweet as if the unnaturally strong aroma was supposed to cloud senses, distract anyone in the vicinity from something else, something much darker and bleak. The crows above you began cawing nervously as if trying to scare away a mare they couldn't see or inform you of a danger they couldn't name as though the air itself became some eldritch evil. Out of the Pillars of Eternity, Decay had always been the most social one but even he made sure to notify beforehand of his nigh arrival. It was strange for him to show up unannounced - strange enough that you began to suspect something terrible had taken place.

As you stood up, the murder of crows took flight, each one of them travelling to different parts of Dreaming or entirely foreign realms but they will be back the moment you sit down under the hazel tree again - they always are. Their nervous caws filled the air, announcing to each world in this universe that Wisdom watches and listens. Your rushed footsteps echoed through the empty marble palace creating an impression of an entire army following you into the lion's den. Somewhere halfway through your march, you run into Lucienne who, without a doubt, was looking for you to spread the news of Decay's unexpected arrival.

"My lady-" she began.

"I know, Lucienne," you cut her off. "Thank you, nonetheless."

Her surprised stare only followed you as you walked past her and disappeared around the closest corner. But Lucienne had many other affairs to tend to, so she simply carried on with whatever needed her attention next.

Aside from Morpheus, there was someone else in the throne room: he seemed a little too mature to be called a boy but definitely too youthful to be titled a man. His lightly tanned body looked soft and pudgy, conjuring thoughts of warm summer afternoons filled with ripe fruit, laughter and carelessness. Angel-like golden locks fell down his shoulders, glistening in the bright light that crept through the tall stained glass windows in the back of the hall. The guest was talking about one of his adventures in a very animated manner and judging by Morpheus's exhausted face, it surely wasn't the first story he was forced to listen to on that day. Hearing your approaching footsteps, both of them looked in your direction:

"Dear sister!" the young man exclaimed. He was dressed in a white robe that could hardly be called 'decent'. The fairly high-pitched voice, in which he spoke, painted him as even younger than his already quite childish appearance. To your dismay, that tacky seashell necklace was still around his neck. "My heart swells at the sight of you! I apologize for not notifying you about my visit but I'm afraid I'm not here to ponder our relationship and the lovely memories we share."

"Then what is it, Decay?" you asked as you made your way towards him. Being so close to him felt like a mouthful of rose syrup. "The longer you stay in Dreaming, the more its genius loci shall rot towards oblivion. Speak fast, brother."

Decay leaned in towards you. His indigo eyes were bright and his smile as lovely as it was wide, making it a truly ridiculous idea that he was the one making flowers wilt and flesh dissolve. Yes, he was, in fact, akin to the Trojan horse. "I know the spear is in here, Wisdom. My presence will not make a cloud disappear underneath your sky," he whispered. "Speaking of your sky, I'm quite... underwhelmed with your choice of a husband. Is he always this grumpy? You could have gone for someone more, well, similar to you. I'm sure Odin wouldn't think twice before accepting an offer."

The mere mention of that entitled one-eyed man made your head ache. Each day he did not try to strike a deal with you was a blessing. "Abyss shall grow eyes before I consider Odin as something more than an annoyance."

"Now that would be a day, dear sister." Decay could barely contain his excitement. "Do you think having eyes would make him look a little less, you know, empty?"

The thought elicited a quiet chuckle from both of you. Although it was nice to talk to Decay and carelessly joke around like you had done many times before, he was still yet to explain his unforeseen appearance.

"Really, Decay, why did you come here?" you coaxed once the laughter subsided. "To jest? To insult?"

For a moment, he stared at you with a strangely triumphant expression that seemed like genuine happiness only superficially - there was mischief, viciousness in his eyes as though he was gloating at possessing knowledge you did not share with him. After he got his presumed satisfaction, Decay stepped away from you to resume his monologue. You noticed that Morpheus's stern gaze never left your brother's physique as he casually strolled through the throne room. Was Dream expecting trouble? A sudden offence? "I came to inform you about a strange occurrence that needs your insight. I visited Karma not too long ago but not out of my own will. One of the Palaces died."

"Palaces of Justice?" Morpheus repeated slowly. His eyebrows furrowed instantaneously and it was a quite understandable reaction to anyone who knew a thing or two about those strange creatures. "How can a Palace of Justice die?"

"Not by a mortal hand nor by the hand of the Endless," you answered in quiet thoughtfulness. "Is there anything more you've learned, Decay? Tell me, what barbarity preceded this act of treason?"

"Truthfully, I do not know any more than Karma does. Unlike Death," Decay paused to look meaningfully in Dream's direction, "I do not gossip with my subjects, therefore Lion himself did not tell me about his passing. But I did, however, come into possession of something that you might find attractive. It is also, I believe, the very trail at which your insight begins, dear sister."

From the scarce folds of his revealing robe, Decay took out a torn piece of material. It was silvery white, glistening in the diffused rays that lit up Morpheus's palace. There seemed to be something embroidered in a dark thread but the tear run in the middle of the design, making it impossible to tell with utmost certainty what it had once presented. Extrapolating from the remaining lines, one could assume that the silvery, silky material once had an open eye inside a triquetra embroidered on it. There was only one unholy fraction that proudly wore such a sigil:

"Brothers of the Final Truth," you whispered to yourself while still examining the torn material. Finding it on your path, however, posed as many questions as it did answers, dissipating the unpenetrated mists of ignorance. "Without a doubt, the ones that told Rodrick Burgess of Metatron's Cube."

"Well then, I should leave you to it. There are still flowers to wilt and empires to fall. I'd hate to make them wait. Farewell, dear sister." Decay politely bowed his head towards you before looking at Morpheus with a cocked eyebrow and a smirk. "Dream of the Endless."

As Decay disappeared, so did the suffocatingly sweet rose smell. You pondered his words - he knew the Spear of Ages was in the Dreaming, at least part of it. The only way for him to know that was if he had tried to make something rot, that sly old fox...

When your brother was finally gone, you swore you could hear Morpheus sigh to himself. He was still sitting on one of the last steps, as he usually did. Dream had a habit of sitting in a quite not noble fashion with his shoulders slouched, back hunched but Decay's leave made his shoulders fall further down as if the visit was a physical burden on him. Perhaps, despite the presence of the Spear of Ages, Morpheus felt a strange heaviness weighing him down, a sudden and inexplicable urge to lie down and close his eyes, even for a moment. "Is your brother usually like this?" he asked in a low voice.

"Funny you should ask. He said the same thing about you."

Perhaps at another time and in another place, they could even be friends.

Entering Karma's residence, the very first thing that grabbed the visitor's attention was the floor or rather a generous interpretation of that term. Underneath a guest's feet was not marble tiling but polished glass that revealed a... pond. Pleasantly fat koi fish leisurely swam in the water of a shade a little too blue to be considered a natural wonder. The carps as if used to anthropomorphic giants walking across their sky, seemed unbothered by another pair of feet stepping over them. Seeing them, a pang of envy erupted in the onlooker's chest: to have no care in the world and a full stomach! What a wonderful fate that was.

Leading away from the throne room were granite corridors with high ceilings and greek pillars. Similarly to Dream's palace, Karma's castle appeared completely empty, deserted even, but given the Hellenistic architecture, there was something poetic to these halls as though they were a forgotten museum or, perhaps, the museum of the forgotten.

"Look above you, Morpheus," you spoke softly as you nudged his shoulder. "I'm honoured to present to you the Palaces of Justice."

There, on the great dome of Karma's castle was a beautiful renaissance fresco. The scene presented a meadow or fields filled with tall grass and neatly trimmed thujas. Among the greenery, however, lurked seven animals: lion, hawk, camel, snake, tiger, jaguar and ox. They each seemed to be aggressive towards all the others but none of them was actually attacking. Curiously, all of them were painted with golden crowns on their heads. It would have been an otherworldly fresco in its grandeur if it wasn't for a strange detail: where the heads of the snake and lion once were, pieces of the ceiling had fallen off. In the middle of the fresco, surrounded by the animals as though they were a wreath, was a scale with a human skull on one side and a decorative globe on the other. In fact, the scale and the mysterious artefacts were identical to the ones standing at the centre of Karma's throne room.

"It's... impressive," he said in an absent voice as he continued to admire the painting.

"Because it's quite far from the truth, I suppose," you answered before walking further into the palace.

In the back of the spacious hall, on the throne which looked more like a decorative park bench to be fair, sat Karma herself. The silky, purple material of her exceptionally long chakkraphat pooled at her feet, falling in cascades down the steep stairs leading up to her exalted seat. The tiny peacocks embroidered on the material looked nearly alive with the amount of detail and vivid colours the unnamed tailor had put into them. Karma’s right arm might not have been covered by her shimmering dress but the densely done mehndi made it impossible to see her olive skin anyway. Red and white paint was covering her face, which wasn't exactly easy to see as she had a habit to fan herself excessively.

Noticing Morpheus and you, Karma hurriedly got up from her throne and bowed so low she nearly sat cross-legged on the floor. Perhaps she did but got up so effortlessly it was hard to tell. In any case, she stayed standing instead of sitting down once more, although it wouldn't be considered impolite as they were guests in her realm.

"My lady Wisdom!" she exclaimed in a nervous voice. "Forgive me but I was not aware of your nigh visit. I'm afraid I can not welcome you as I should."

"Do not fret, Karma," you assured her. "I am here because Decay told me of Lion's passing. I was hoping you could tell me more about this tragedy."

Her eyebrows slanted and she fell down on her throne despite her desire to show you the utmost respect. Considering the amount of paint she wore, her face resembled more of a noh mask rather than something organic. Should one of her muscles twitch a little too intensely, the layers of dried makeup would probably peel right off.

"I do not know much, at least not enough to solve this gut-wrenching mystery," Karma spoke in a plaintive voice. The lability of her emotions seemed surprising at best when one considered that she was the effect of your and Decay's coexistence - neither of you was exceptionally sensitive. "I learned of Lion's passing only when master Decay arrived at my palace. Not an alarm was raised before that, not even a worried whisper reached my ears."

Having experienced unrest among his subjects himself, Morpheus furrowed his eyebrows at Karma's statement of genuine obliviousness. How could she not know that one of her people died? "Have you not noticed anything strange?" he asked.

"The scale remains balanced, Lord Morpheus." She gestured towards the scale with a skull and a globe that stood behind you. "As it has been for the past thousands of years."

"What of Lion?" you continued the inquiry. "Did he appear out of the ordinary?"

"I do not believe so. Had anything happened to him, I'm sure Themis would have told me."

Considering different possible scenarios of Lion's last moments, you found yourself looking at the fresco again. The teeth and sheer scale of the animals painted beamed with might and pride. Alas, two of them were no longer part of this exalted fellowship and one could only wonder whether such losses had something in common.

"I remember the day Viper was exiled," you spoke up after a moment of thoughtful silence. "Human hearts began to tremble and never stopped, even to this day. Feelings of guilt haunt them both when they're awake and in their dreams..." drawing out your monologue, you looked at the mistress of the palace again. "Has she returned ever since?"

"She remains exiled," Karma answered with certainty. Nervous, she seemed to fan herself more frantically. "If Viper had returned, I would be immediately notified, my lady."

"I do not doubt the loyalty or competence of your subjects, Karma. What I'm suggesting is that Viper can make others believe quite literally anything with her silver tongue and poisonous words. It is not beyond her power to make your guards believe they had never seen her."

Your words echoed through the empty palace like a brass bell that tolls to announce someone's passing. Karma left her mouth open agape. Even her experienced wrist stopped fanning her for a moment. Those big, violet and theatrically teary eyes stared at you with unspeakable horror and woe as though you had said something completely unthinkable. Even the peacocks on her fan seemed to have their dead, vacant gaze set on you.

"Those are dreadful words, your worship," she quietly stated. Had her voice been any lower, one might have assumed it was but a gust of wind, chiming and whistling as it travelled through the empty granite halls.

"That they are, my dear," you continued. One might have wondered how come such a frail, sensitive creature had to overlook something so important like the balance of the universe? "But that doesn't make them any less true. Would Viper have any reason to kill Lion?"

"Barbarity is in her nature, I'm afraid." Karma resumed the fanning motion. For a moment, her gaze fell to the floor, admiring the careless koi fish underneath your feet. "Themis should be more acquainted with any possible grudges the Palaces might hold against one another. Should I call for her, my lady?"

"It would prove very helpful."

In a sharp, echoing thud, Karma folded her fan giving all the prying eyes an exceptionally rare possibility of seeing her entire face. Holding the wooden accessory in her hand, she hit the gong standing beside her throne. The low but bright sound resounded through the palace, bouncing off the walls in a cacophony that brought pain to your head and vibration to your bones.

From one of the long, empty halls emerged a tall, muscular woman. Her dark, wavy hair danced on the wind as she walked but not as wildly as it, probably, wanted to - a piece of thick material wrapped around her eyes was restraining its frolicking. The textile was originally white, starting to grey with time and grime, but that was not the change in colour one should have been paying attention to: there were two brown, circular stains where her eyes presumably were. The woman walked barefoot with her arms stretched out far in front of her. On top of them, she carried a steel sword. As water underneath her feet reflected bright light coming through the tall windows, it created beautiful, dancing meanders on the floor-facing side of the blade. Something about her appearance made Morpheus flex the muscles of his back and shoulders as if he was checking whether he's standing straight enough.

"I have arrived, my lady Karma," the woman spoke in a low voice. Although she didn't speak very loudly, her words seemed to be carried especially well through the domed throne room. It was as if the sound of her voice was not heard by your ears but by the very fibre of your body. "How can I be of assistance?"

"Themis, whatever my guests ask you, you must answer."

"Of course, my lady Karma."

Turning to face Morpheus and you, Themis grabbed the handle of the sword and putting both of her hands around it, shoved the tip of the blade into the glass flooring. Thankfully, it did not break. The fish seemed greatly unmoved by the almost catastrophe. Humans could learn a thing or two from them.

Closely watching the deity, you strolled around Themis, taking in her form from all angles. Morpheus, on the other hand, stood beside the two of you and simply stared at your strange method of interrogation. "Since her exile, did Viper return to this palace?" you asked

"I have not seen Viper, the Palace of Justice, since my lady Karma decided to exile her," Themis answered in an official tone. Her voice remained unwavering.

"You did not answer the question, Themis," Morpheus stated. The goddess of justice, however, remained unmoved at this accusation and simply awaited your further inquiry.

"Do you know what happened to Lion?"

"I do not know how Lion, the Palace of Justice, died."

You stopped your bizarre activity to look at Themis's face. Like a marble statue, it remained unmoved but not in the same way Morpheus refused to be open about his emotions. Although she was a lot closer creation-wise to humans than him, not a speck of humanity seemed to reside under her skin. But that observation could hardly be surprising, not to you at least - it was your own design, all of it. A shiver of suspicion danced along your spine. She wasn't lying but she wasn't truthful either. Perhaps there must come the day when children turn on their parents, even metaphorically.

Morpheus inconspicuously leaned in to voice your own thoughts: "She knows what happened but refuses to tell."

"We have to trust that her silence is meaningful and not an omen of ill will," you whispered back but never let Themis out of your sight. "Perhaps by not telling us the truth, proper justice can be delivered." Only then did you speak up: "You are dismissed, Themis."

"Thank you, your worship," she answered.

Effortlessly, Themis pulled her shining sword from the glass floor. The rift where the blade once resided sealed itself, leaving absolutely no indication that even a scratch fell on the glass. Once again holding her sword in a strangely offering manner, the goddess of justice bowed low in front of you. Then, she turned around and left the throne room, disappearing around one of the antique, granite pillars decorating Karma's castle.

"We shall take our leave, Karma. You have been most helpful. Until this lonely path unites us again, my dear."

"I will await that day, your worship," she answered. By the sound of her voice, you could tell she was smiling, although the frantically moving fan was in the way of confirming your suspicion.

Having exchanged your farewells, you turned around and marched towards the entrance. Koi carps still swam under your feet without a care in the world, while the mighty Palaces of Justice stared at your back from the ceiling. Despite having no face on the fresco, you felt the eyes of Viper and Lion burning into your skin - one stalking and one pleading but both equally furious. Out of the corner of your eye, you looked at Morpheus's sharp features, so serious and regal but he couldn't fool you even if he tried. Dream of the Endless was dealing with things well above his 'paygrade', forces that were beyond him in the great scheme of creation. His blood, should he shed even a drop during this strange investigation, will stain your skin through all the cycles that are yet to happen. For the first time in long aeons, you were responsible for someone's life. By the warmth with which you had welcomed such a burden, you could tell that you'd aged.

The doors separating Karma's palace from the rest of her realm had a scene carved into each of the wings: one side presented a pack of wolves hunting a hare while the other showed a group of men aiming their rifles at a wolf. That's what Karma really stood for - an eye for an eye, a life for a life. When they were forced to open or close, the mechanism moving the door let out a rhythmic ticking, easily confused with the sound of a clock. Perhaps it was a silly coincidence or Karma wanted to remind each and every person that crossed the threshold of her land, that nothing in the universe is static. If you're hunting the hare, beware of the men with rifles because they will come. They always find you just like you always find the hare.

"Sad thing what happened to dear Lion," a male voice spoke up. He had a rough accent, vividly pronouncing his Rs. "He was a good lad, always bravely taking on whatever Themis threw at him. Honestly, I kind of felt bad for him after the last... perplexity. In his defence, he really thought he had it."

The man had dark skin roughly the colour of a brick. His luscious black hair was braided into a complex coiffure decorated with various feathers, each belonging to a different bird and only some of them came from earthly animals. He was dressed in a hand-weaved vest with nothing underneath it. Despite his strong, handsome features, his face looked somehow mischievous and vicious but that could easily be accredited to the white, long scar running straight down his face. Around him, the air smelled of musk and pine needles as though he was a forest beast only pretending to be a young man. In a quite defying manner, considering who he was speaking to, the stranger was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed on his chest.

"What perplexity do you mean, Hawk?" you coaxed him but, truthfully, you had hardly any hope to learn anything significant from him. If Hawk had any relatives, he'd sell them just to strike a personal deal with someone - that's the kind of creature he was. Despite such... affliction, he was proficient at his duties as a Palace of Justice, therefore everyone simply went along with his aggravating business model.

"Now that is a really good question, your worship: what do I mean?" he continued in a thrilled voice. A mischievous smile appeared on his face revealing his strangely sharp teeth. "I suppose I could tell you, I probably even should, but I'm a beast of business, not charity."

"You are in no place to make demands," Morpheus warned him.

"And you are in no place to dismiss my offer," he answered without the smallest falter in his smile. "Desperation is a sweet, sweet thing, Dream of the Endless."

Perhaps it was beneath you to submit to an egotistic agent of a Sacra's servant but the possibility of someone capable of killing Palaces of Justice simply running around unaccounted for was far worse. "What do you want?"

"I may have the best sight in this cycle but there is one place even my sight can not reach," Hawk spoke as he leaned towards you in a secretive manner, "Dreaming, the universe's unconscious. Bring me a feather from the tail of his raven," Hawk motioned towards Morpheus standing right next to you, "and I will tell you what I know."

You simply stared at him for a moment, pondering the consequences of your choice. But this... this you can just as freely take away as you give it. Out of thin air, with a graceful flick of your wrist, you conjured a black feather. It had a slight golden shimmer to it. "You will find this one sufficient," you stated as you handed the feather to Hawk.

Hawk studied the feather for a moment. His delicate hand brushed against the softness of the gift. "Yes, it should work just fine..." Examining it from all angles, Hawk finally reached into his long hair and threaded the new feather into one of his small braids. "Now, the case of our dear Lion. All of it is a real tear-jerker, your worship. Have you heard of the butterfly effect? You know, one small thing leading to a series of horrible events that only a person with more than one brain cell could predict? So, our little lion cub was deceived one time. Black magic that even made me shudder, no doubt the work of one of the Brothers of the Final Truth. It's funny that they claim to be this ancient, exclusive cult but if you can prove you're deranged enough they will let you in on a secret or two. In any case, someone got a hold of a Serpent Lock sigil, effectively locking Lion away from a considerable part of the truth. Everything was pointing at the teenage girl, so he did this heavenly duty of executing justice. Get it? Executing? Anyway, it turned out that it was the girl that put the Serpent Lock on the grimoire or some dairy and only after her untimely death did Lion learn what had actually happened. Long story short, he dealt with the wrong person and it should have been the mother. For the first time in this cycle, justice was served wrong and on top of that, the funniest part of this shit, it was the poster boy that did it."

"So Viper had nothing to do with this?" Morpheus asked. You caught his quick stern gaze as though the two of you were exchanging thoughts and theories.

"Quite the contrary. You need to learn to keep up, Lordy Morphy. She's the sole reason I'm telling you this story. Think about this: Lion, the symbol of power, family, strength, bravery and fuck knows what else, kills himself. It even sounds weird, doesn't it? That's when my slithering sister comes in with her guilt-tripping and intrusive thoughts. She whispers a thing or two, Lion stupidly listens, scratches his face off and scene!"

"I was under the impression that Viper and you don't cross paths as a rule," you questioned Hawk's honesty. Whenever these two were in each other's field of vision, catastrophes liked to stroll by but no one could tell anymore why they were like that. "Why change your mind now?"

"Lion's gone and, just like when that slimy serpent was exiled, the ones who are left have to clean up their mess. Doing my own load was enough but taking on theirs? That's ridiculous. I want Viper to get her own decisions to bite her in the ass, finally. You know, my lady, it's quite funny how she always manages to get out of every mess just fine."

"You're a Palace of Justice, Hawk," you reminded him. Somehow, in all those long centuries, he had forgotten the splendour of his own title or, perhaps, got too comfortable with it. "Vengeance is beneath you." The contempt in your voice made Morpheus slightly shift his body in discomfort.

"And what is justice if not lawful vengeance?" Hawk answered you. Clearly, he wasn't there to listen to your preaching. He was done with the drama he had to be part of. "Anyway, there are no rules regarding violence among Palaces, so I trust that you're the one who's going to make a judgement in this case. Themis's sword can't call Viper anymore but it shouldn't be a problem. Here." From the pocket of his saggy, sand-coloured pants, Hawk pulled out a handful of scales that had a strange glisten to them. "Toodles."

With such a perfect summary of his careless disrespect, he changed from his human form into an actual hawk and flew away. In truly comedic timing, both you and Morpheus let out a tired sigh. Dealing with Hawk may have been infuriating but you had Viper's scales - and that meant you could summon her.

"What manner of a feather was that?" Morpheus asked with a hint of suspicion in his voice.

"If you're asking whether I pluck a feather from your beloved Jessamy's tail, I did not. Think, dear Morpheus, who could have allowed your messenger to effortlessly travel between realms?"

His gaze lingered on you as though at first he didn't quite believe the implication. Then, a small smile crept unto his face as his expression beamed with wonder. The more he knew about you, the stronger he felt that all of him and Dreaming were a dollhouse you carved with your own hand. Left alone for a day too long, the dolls of the house began living on their own but the mark of their creator remained.

But that sense of wonder and awe washed away in favour of his ever-broad ego. "Was it truly necessary to succumb to Hawk's fractious demands?"

"Do not be mistaken, Morpheus, I did not want to give in to Hawk but there is not much else we can do at this point. This is one of those choices humanity always fails: pride or progress? Whether I complete his request or not, he will remain only a Palace of Justice and I will remain the Pillar of Eternity."

One day he was bound to learn from you that confidence was silent, it neither boasts nor demands but remains humble as it makes the right choice; a head unbowed is a head that favours clout over its true worth.

"What now, Wisdom? We have no way of knowing where Viper resides. As much as I dislike this, we could ask the three Graces."

Truthfully, they were only slightly more likeable compared to Odin. "That will not be necessary. The scales Hawk gave me will summon Viper but only if they're burnt in the same realm she's in. For now, I'm afraid I have to agree with you: there is no way for us to know where she is. You, dear Morpheus, should scour the dreams in search of the cult's sigil. They have to sleep at some point and if they are anything but dead, they must be somewhere."

"They taught Rodrick Burgess how to imprison you," his voice wavered with anger. It was a strange thing to be the subject of someone's worry. Even stranger when that subject was incomparably more powerful that the worrier. Perhaps love's voice was a little louder than reason's. "It's dangerous to seek them out."

You looked into Morpheus's blue eyes. Most of the time, they were quite vacant with something odd lingering inside them. Having spent so much time with him, you learned that their odd glint was sadness. But not the kind of melancholy one feels after hearing harsh words, no, it was the sadness of knowledge - a melancholic gaze of someone who saw and heard all there was to know about humanity and that knowledge left them disappointed, underwhelmed. "While they're dreaming, they are in your realm. You are the lord of them, do not forget that."

"What happens now that one of the Palaces is gone?"

For a moment, you looked away. A small shrug raised your shoulders and your gaze returned to Morpheus's face. "Truthfully, I can only speculate. This isn't the first time some Sacra's agent died but all of the Palaces are already deeply woven into the fabric of this cycle that it's virtually impossible to say with certainty whether the balance will remain. We can only hope that the other five Palaces will take over his duties and no more damage will be done. I'll be by the hazel tree."

Walking through the strangest dreams, Morpheus found himself inside a small, bare bedroom. The walls and floor were made out of stone. There was no glass in the windows but it wouldn't make much difference - the hot air stood in place. A wooden bed, a table, a chair and three woven baskets were the only pieces of furniture and although it wasn't much by any means, the room already felt cluttered. Looking around, Morpheus couldn't notice anything remarkable. The room looked so unimpressive, it could literally be in any country in the world. Although, why was someone dreaming of their own, empty bedroom?

Morpheus looked through one of the windows which was more of a hole in the wall, really. Out there, somewhere in the distance above hay roofs, he noticed a flag. There was no wind blowing, therefore he couldn't see all of it but he was fairly sure he could make out something like a spiral and part of an eye. He had found himself in the right place but where exactly he was, Morpheus couldn't tell. On the windowsill, if one could even call it that, was placed a gilded statuette of an animal (a panther, perhaps?) with three cubs. Morpheus reached his hand out towards the strange and enigmatic decoration.

"We meet, at last, Dream of the Endless," a voice called out to him.

Turning around, Morpheus's gaze fell on a man in a silvery robe. Contrary to the room they had found themselves in, the monk's clothing looked expensive, though it did not escape Dream's attention that the long belt tied around his waist was torn at the bottom, leaving brown threads in a dismembered pattern that represented nothing in particular anymore. Bright afternoon sunlight glided off his bald head. "Darius."

"To what do I owe this honour?"

Morpheus knew that Darius must be an exceptional man. Most of the time, Lord of Dreams was but an overlooked passenger in people's nighttime fantasies, never noticed until he wanted to be. Lucid dreaming was, indeed, a complex craft and not many could achieve it even with proper training. Even fewer people could treat it as second consciousness, wandering on Dreaming's soil with the awareness of wakefulness. "What happened to the Palaces of Justice?" Morpheus asked.

"Irony, Dream King," Darius answered. There was a polite smile on his face. His hands were clasped together in front of him as though he was mindful of his etiquette even in the world of dreams. How considerate. "The Palaces of Justice received justice."

Darius's lack of shame or regret, certain recklessness maybe, made Morpheus's skin crawl. Did that man truly not ponder the consequences of such an act? What madness inspired him to ever think that he could make such a decision? "Have you any idea what you've done?"

"Contrary to you, I do." Darius remained relaxed. He was either bluffing or he had an ace up his sleeve and was smart enough to not reveal all of his cards just yet. "Is this not why you sought me out? To learn about Lion and his final moments? With great satisfaction, I assure you, that it wasn't me who delivered his fate. If you knew what he had done, you'd be thrilled, too."

"I know what he had done," Dream answered in a cold done. "Tell me what you know."

"Why would I? You're only going to bring Wisdom to our doorstep. As much as the Brothers of the Final Truth wish for that to happen, the time is not right yet. Preparations are in order."

The next moment happened so fast that it was a mere blink of an unsuspecting eye. From his long sleeve, Darius revealed a dagger with a hilt sculpted into a dragon's head. As if he had no fear or had done something just as mad countless times before, Darius stabbed himself right in his heart - the quickest way to wake up.

Darius sat up in his bed panting. Without thinking about anything else, he threw away the thin cover he was sleeping under and run out of his bedroom barely dressed. He continued his maniacal rush through the cold, stone halls of the temple. Guards, wearing headdresses made from jaguar skulls, tried to stop him and ask what was wrong but Darius never let them - he simply run, his head whipping around as if he was looking for someone. Nearly tripping over his own feet, he left the temple.

"Brother Lorarii!" he yelled out to the familiar man. The monk looked Middle Eastern, with a thick beard covering nearly half of his face. "Brother Lorarii," Darius repeated between pants.

"Darius, dear Lords above and beyond, what is the matter?"

"It's Wisdom." He still couldn't catch his breath. "Dream of the Endless had trespassed my dreams. We need to warn Viper, send her off."

"If you say so, we shall do so at once. But you, dear brother, do not look good. It is still very early, even field workers haven't yet woken up. Go back to sleep, rest, and I'll fetch Viper."

"Yes, brother Lorarii. I will."

Suddenly feeling unimaginably tired, Darius dragged his feet back inside the temple. Instead of Dream and Wisdom, his thoughts were filled with memories of the pleasantly cool and comfortable bed. Yes, he could get some more sleep...

Brother Lorarii watched Darius disappear around the corner of the stone temple. Then, he simply turned around and walked away but instead of walking through a village with houses made of stone, he was suddenly walking through the palace in Dreaming. Brother Lorarii's tanned skin was exchanged for a pasty white complexion and dark, unkempt hair. Morpheus was marching through the marble halls of his manor. The gold figurine weighed in his hand.

Darius was still asleep, never having left his bed.

Morpheus was stalling. He came to tell you about his discovery but something about your calm yet focused demeanour made him want to watch. Throughout most of his life, he thought that the Pillars of Eternity were distant, cold, unwelcoming. None of the Endless was important enough to gain their interest. It was frustrating, truly - the almighty creatures of this universe couldn't care less. But now, having learned just how wrong he was, it was a comforting thought that there existed something bigger than him, that the pains and hopes of this world weren't entirely his burden to carry. Next to you, he happened to feel small, not as important as he always thought of himself. Somewhere in the depth of his pride, he found it endearing. The crows in the tree watched him closely with their burning green eyes and unintelligible markings. "Any news in the universe?"

"Standing here, what can you hear, my love?" you asked back.

"Leaves rustling."

"Imagine that each of those leaves is a separate world in this cycle. You hear them rustling as one, the soft hum of the current universe, but I listen to each of them separately. In fact, I'm listening to an entire forest rustling its leaves. There is no news in the universe, Morpheus, the universe is the news. It is constantly changing, moving, whispering. The universe is alive and so are its components. Have you any news about the Brothers of the Final Truth?"

Only then did you open your eyes to look at him. There was that glint of mischief or fascination in his irises that urged you to reveal to him the most deranged secrets of creation. Aside from your siblings, he was probably the only entity that wouldn't go completely mad the moment they even began to understand.

"I have spoken to one of them by the name of Darius. He was lucid in his dream, trying to escape me and my realm. Wherever Darius is, Viper is there, too. I brought something from his dream that might yet help us."

Although the statuette must have spent some time in Morpheus's hand, it was cold to the touch. It glistened but not as it should in the faint light of the palace - it appeared to have its own source of light. There were no inscriptions on the figurine, not even a year or a monogram of the sculptor.

"A gold jaguar," you said to yourself as if it wasn't already obvious. To be fair, considering the lack of proper details in the sculpted cubs, guessing 'bear' or 'hyena' should be equally expected. "Mother or father? Father jaguar..." your voice drifted away, travelling through times and places in a single thought. Yes, it wasn't the first time you've stumbled upon such an expression. "They're in Paititi, 'Motherland of the jaguar father'."

"That is where Viper is hiding."

"Precisely. But Brothers of the Final Truth are a cunning kind, they will know of our arrival. We must be swift, dear Morpheus."

The crows let out a deafening cacophony of caws when they took flight after you had stood up. One could only wonder what strange worlds they were going to see.

"It's hardly changed," you confessed as you looked at the stone houses, rice fields and llamas. "I remember showing Inkarri this valley. I haven't visited since then... Apparently, Paititi is stuck in time. I am yet to decide whether that is good or bad. For now, I suppose it simply is."

The village was quiet but not silent: a soft hum of a faraway waterfall created a comforting, almost sleepy, ambience. Torches made the moonless night a little brighter and easier to navigate. The air felt a low warmer as no breeze was blowing. Once in a while, a llama or a goat would call out. Streets were empty and there was no light inside the huts. For all you knew, Paititi was asleep.

The scales in your hand were strangely slimy and hard to grasp as if they once belonged to a fish rather than a reptile. With a flick of your wrist, you threw them in the air and in a truly mesmerizing fashion, they burst into giant, green flames. Not even ashes fell to the ground.

"The Brothers know you're here. Leave while you can," a quiet voice hissed.

You didn't even have to snap your fingers or flick your wrist to make Viper sink to her knees. It was child's play, really - to think her submission into existence. Despite genuine attempts, she couldn't stand up or even raise her arms. Viper's head was forced to look at you. She had thin black hair that clumped in greasy strands. Her skin looked painfully dry. Those slit pupils stared at you with nothing short of contempt.

"I am Wisdom," you began in an official tone, "the Pillar of Eternity, the Master of the Arcane Arts." Something about those words made the wind blow harder, the ground beneath your feet trembled nervously. "You owe me respect."

"Look at her," Viper demanded of Morpheus. His vacant eyes remained fixed on her. "Look at her!" She spat out specks of venom as she yelled. Hitting the sand beneath your feet, the substance sizzled, turning into sour-smelling smoke. "When you're finally gone, do you honestly think she'll mourn you? How could someone like her shed a tear over an insect like you? You are nothing beyond a lap dog to her, an accessory."

Unwilling to hear any more of her words, you revealed one of the blades belonging to the Spear of Ages that you had kept hidden in the triangular sleeves of your robes. The golden blade would surely glisten in the silver light of the moon but that night's sky was empty - stars blinked anxiously as they waited for their mother to begin another cycle, grow into the silent talar of whispered secrets once again.

With confidence befitting pure rage, your arm swung through the warm air. Viper closed her eyes and attempted to wince but the magic holding her in place didn't quite allow that. A loud sound of metal clashing and something hard being broken resounded through the otherwise silent night.

The blade belonging to the Spear of Ages was lodged into the stone pavement on which Viper was kneeling. Judging by the distance between the weapon and her body, it had missed her face by less than half of an inch. It was, quite clearly, a throw practised many times before. One could only wonder how many times the blade did not miss its mark...

But Viper did not have much time to enjoy the missed offence. Your hand tightly wrapped around her throat. Truthfully, you had little care for the strength of your grip - it took a little more than strangulation to kill a Palace. Holding her throat, you slightly lifted her entire body to bring Viper's face closer to yours.

"Given what role you must fulfil in this cycle, killing you is unwise," you spoke in a quiet, calm voice. "Another punishment must take place to pay for your treacherous fratricide. Viper, Palace of the Justice, you shall speak no more words. Instead, you will hiss and slither and live in the shadows as serpents do. So mote it be."

Pushing Viper away, you let go of her neck. She fell on the white stones beneath her feet and tried to scramble back up, stand up and face you but she couldn't - physically, she was incapable of doing so. Her legs as if suddenly stripped of bones or muscles became completely useless. Viper had no control over them. Propping her torso up on her arms, she tried to say something but your words were already changing reality: a golden thread swiftly piercing Viper's lips, wiring them shut until the end of this cycle. In muffled whimpers, she undoubtedly attempted to scream something at you - certainly something quite sultry.

"Between forgiveness and vengeance, one should choose to be just," you announced in an official tone. "And what is just may not always be right," you added a little quieter. It was good that those decisions belonged to Palaces of Justice and not yourself.

Dream's gaze lingered on the pathetic sight that was Viper. He knew not to believe her words but some part of him, strange particles in his bones that recognized your superiority to all of creation, pondered the Palace's judgement. What if his purpose truly was to pass the time? He felt your hand gently grabbing his before Paititi turned into Dreaming and the air around him was filled with shimmering, green powder.

Part of him expected you to let go of his hand and do whatever it is a creature of your sort does in their free time - in his experience, it was mostly sitting underneath a hazel tree or walking through the farthest places in Dreaming, taking in the specific genius loci of the Dream World. But your touch lingered. "Something is troubling you, my dear," you said in a mild tone.

Sometimes he wondered whether you could read minds but it was fairly obvious that you were just excellent at reading him. You pulled him in the direction of the balcony next to your bedroom and he let you.

"There will come a day when my existence comes to an end," he began. Your hand gripped his a little tighter but it wasn't uncomfortable - it was reassuring, a silent promise that he was being heard and his fears were treated with utmost seriousness. "Strange times when even Death will die. What shall become of you then?"

"Whatever must," you answered shortly. There was no point in sweet words and lies. Both of you were a little too old and smart for that. "I will take on the face of the next cycle's dominant species, answer to the name they will give me. And one day there will come another cycle in which another Dream of the Endless shall live. I think I ought to seek him out when the time comes. Perhaps his sky will be littered with gargantuan jellyfish."

A cawing resounded in the air. Flying straight towards the two of you was a crow - undoubtedly one of the residents of the hazel tree judging by its flaming emerald eyes and marking along its body. It landed on the ledge of the balcony, right between Morpheus and you. The bird's talons tapped against the stone. The crow cocked its head, the flaming eye stared into yours in a manner too intelligent and conscious to truly belong to an animal. A hoarse caw, a sound more akin to a screech than a bird's call, resounded in the crow's chest.

"Time would like us to visit him out on the Seas of Oblivion," you explained to Morpheus. Before he could think it odd that you clearly understand a crow's caw, he noticed the shade of green burning inside the bird's skull was nearly identical to the colour of your dress with embroidered ibises; he and Jessamy were in no way different than you and that crow. "Hermes, tell Time that we'll be honoured to meet with him."

The crow cawed again before taking flight and disappearing into the horizon.

I fear the day is growing shorter yet again, dear student, and the darkness in the absence of the sun is filled with terrors even I am yet to learn about. As much as it pains me to say so, I do not know when we'll see each other again. Telling you this story, I have come to realize that an entire century had gone by since the last time I saw my mother. With the break of dawn, I shall be off to Shangri-La. Should you grow weary of my absence, borrow one of my books. Who knows, maybe between their pages you'd find a story of your own?