Life's Realm

If Broxigar was the first, Decima was the second. After all, how can there be life without a path for it to follow? Fate was every bit as important in her mind, and she felt that all this nonsense about putting on airs and disliking everyone for being younger than Life itself was quite ridiculous. Broxigar was just put out because things didn't go the way he had planned.

But they always went her way.

Decima didn't think it all strange that the younger gods were rebelling. Everyone rebels at some point, and it wasn't like she hadn't known all along. That sort of thing was natural. It was all part of the Order of Things, wasn't it? Of course, dear old Brox couldn't be consoled. That was his way of things, though; she had just gotten used to it.

Cheerfully picking her way through the forests that personified his realm, carrying a well-worn picnic basket in her frail arms. By no means a spring chicken, she must've been an odd sight, the small , wizened old woman hunched over from the weight of all her years. Despite that, she hopped over the logs and creeks and various nature-related paraphenalia with relative ease, daintily picking up the hem of her ragtag skirts.

Her brother (that was not entirely accurate, but she chose to think of him as such) was not the most friendly of deities, of that she was aware, which is why she made a point of shower him with as much affection as possible. People could be annoyed by the oddest of things.Humming cheerfully to herself, she pushed past a curtain of vines into the clearing the god most commonly occupied.

"Broxigar," she called, her warbling voice floating through the quiet air, "I brought you tea, dear." No one was there yet but she knew he would come. She deposited her basket near a large rock, sitting down on it with a sigh. Tromping through the woods didn't really drain her of energy whatsoever, but spending so many years as a the crone had given her a few habits. It was like method acting! Sort of. She tucked some of her wiry more-white-than-grey hair behind her ear and waited for him, idly playing with the pair of golden scissors she wore on the chain about her neck.

"So they've actually decided to go through with it."

That was Broxigars' first thought upon hearing the news, of course this was what he wanted, a decision he'd backed since it's suggestion but even so, the idea of ousting Gods that HE breathed life into, sending them to only the Rulers know where to do only the Rulers know what left a bitter taste in his mouth. Not a rarity when he thought about it, but there was still some deep seated voice inside of him that told him every aspect of this was wrong, and anyway, wasn't it that damned crones' job to foretell this sort of thing? I mean what good is Fate when it can't predict something as big as this? he reasoned. He'd voiced his opinion to the Rulers many times before about such matters, but something as potentially catastrophic as five Gods rebelling against the rulers would surely make them listen. Why couldn't it just be like it was in the beginning? He thought, just him and the rulers, a time when every God (That is to say just him) did their job with minimal (By his standards) complaining and DEFINITELY no rebelling. These kind of thoughts passed often through Broxigars' head, indeed, it was his favourite topic of discussion in those rare occasions he ventured out into the others' realms. On and on, the same three things:

Broxigar was strong, Broxigar was wise and most of all: Broxigar was FIRST.

Still... this was shaping up to be one of the times when everyone (Everyone who was doing the job at least) would just have to play nice and accept eachothers' help. How he really hated having to accept other help, especially if it was from that glorified fortune tel-

"Broxigar" He heard a familiar, warbling voice call through the tress, coming from one of his preferred haunts.

"Gates above, I hate it when she does that!" He bellowed, scattering a nearby flock of birds. Whenever Decima called, it was usually to shower him in some sort of affection before getting on to some important, potentially world changing matter. She seemed to be forgetting that he knew better than her, after all he was first. Resigning himself to the fact that she would wait until he came (A fact in which he found some small victory in) He sighed, brushed what little dirt there was off his clothes and slunk towards the clearing. Where, sitting and smiling quite amiably was Decima, Goddess of Fate.

"Greetings 'Sister', always a pleasure" He called sarcastically at her, offering a half hearted salute. "I see you brought tea, perhaps you're coming to tell me what other misfortune, aside from your visit is going to afflict me? Or maybe you have something relevant to speak about for a change?"

"Correct as always, dear," Decima said cheerily, disregarding the fact that she didn't normally regard Broxigar as being correct as she pulled various tea-related accoutrements out of her basket. A seemingly impossibly amount of sandwiches, seedcakes and other little snacks out of the small wicker container, a well as a full teapot (still steaming and not at all spilled) and two dainty china cups. When she reached into get the saucers she furrowed her brow and reached in with both hands, pulling out a very agitated black and white cat.

"Tau!" she chided, "I believe you have a job you're supposed to be doing." That being said, however, instead of chasing the cat off, she let him curl up next to her withered form.

"Anyway, darling," she said, busying herself with pouring the tea, "I'd come to discuss the recent happenings. You know," she said pointedly, "The Issue? I wondered if you might like me to give you an update as to what's going on." She took her cup of tea and took a delicate sip of her scalding tea.

"Not all of the Chosen have been informed as of yet," Decima said, stroking her cat's ears. Tau blinked up at her, one yellow eye, on blue. "Sophia has been told--she's for Delirium, as well as Bailey Jennings." Decima paused as if wondering to add more. She chose not too. "And that awful Greyheart woman. She's been informed too." Decima grimaced at the thought of dealing with her as part of the Heavenly Host. It certainly wasn't appealing.

"Ai knows, by the way," she said calmly, taking a sandwich off of one of the plates. "And Lehel." She paused, thinking. "Liriel knows as well, though I couldn't say for certain if poor Hazri was paying attention. Fortuna may know, I'm not entirely sure." She was a little fuzzy on the details, occasionally.

A thought occurred to her and she looked up. "I suppose I ought to let that Lorkhan fellow know." She nudged her cat with her foot and he mewled in an undignified manner. "Maybe we should get on that, eh?" She showed no sign of moving, though, and took another sip of tea. Tau stood up and shot her an unpleasant look (as far as looks from cats go) and slinked off, presumably to do her bidding.