“Why does it feel like everyone is tails deep in someone else?”
Litvir rubbed his eyes, trying to clear his head. While his initial impressions of being a (somewhat highly ranked) Decayling had been mostly good so far, now he was in a much smaller group, his own strange, godly abilities seemed to have become unhinged.
“Are you alright, Litvir?”
The strange being in front of Litvir showed a surprising amount of concern, considering the fact that he was a former death god. The people in charge had even given him a scary code name: Death Bringer. But the Death Bringer was half Litvir’s height and wore bright yellow armour.
“I appreciate your concern, Arkadin, but no, I am not alright. My empath abilities are… going haywire…”
“You’re an empath?” Arkadin asked, looking more curious than surprised. “I know Rethans were always empathic, didn’t realise you were a true empath. You picking up on Seimeni and Kairos a few doors down?”
Litvir grunted, not quite sure how Arkadin knew.
“Yes. She really seemed to be enjoying herself.”
“Guessed as much…” Arkadin sat down next to Litvir and handed him a bowl of what looked like wheat pasta in a very, very cheesy and sticky sauce. “This should help. A nice, strong flavour to help clear the brainlines. Then block them up for a bit.”
“You seem to understand…” Litvir sighed, taking a spoon of the pasta dish. As he tasted the cheesiness, he realised Arkadin was right, the strong flavour DID help a lot. “Actually, you seem very understanding for a, well, death god.”
Arkadin just shrugged. “Most death gods are, surprisingly. After all, we’re the ones who deal with mortals. Kairos and I are gods from the same universe, but I’m the one who deals with mortals.”
“That reminds me…” Litvir paused, shaking his head, trying to clear the foreign emotion that was trying to force itself into his brain. Normally, Litvir would at least try to feed on these excessive emotions, but since he was no longer a Rethan and now some sort of deity, Litvir found he no longer needed or could really do that. “Why are you, the death god, considered a Decayling, while your sibling, the Dragon God of Time, is considered a Decay Lord?”
“He’s part of the Time Drake Consortium and has been a time god for three universes. He’s passed the… Time Drake equivalent examinations for his rank. I’ve only been a god in one and a half universes and, well don’t have the qualifications. That and I’m kinda fucked up, due to what happened. If anything, you and Retvik are doing better than I am.”
“Really?” Between the conversation and the food, this was doing wonders for Litvir’s empath problem. Or maybe the Whenvern and the Life Goddess were slowing down. “I thought we were equals.”
“Let me put it another way. I’m doing fine on the practical stuff, but being blown up is hampering me when it comes to doing the written stuff. And you must be doing really well since they picked you alongside Retvik. Should be proud of yourself.”
Litvir smiled. “I… I appreciate that. But you mentioned Retvik, where IS Retvik? I am picking up weird emotional readings-”
Suddenly, the door slammed open, revealing a rather terrified, heavily breathing golden-clad Decayling.
“Hey, Retvik!” Arkadin waved. “You alright?”
“No, no I am not!” Retvik gasped as he awkwardly closed the door behind him, then flomped down in the chair next to Litvir. “Damn Seimeni and her lustful ways…”
“What happened?” Litvir asked, glad that Retvik’s immense disgust was drowning out the other emotions in the other room.
“The Light-damned creature asked me if I wanted to join in a threesome between her and Kairos. I had to run away as fast as possible…”
“Oh well… She’ll get over herself soon…” Arkadin shrugged, summoning two bowls of cheesy pasta out of thin air. “Here, have some mac ‘n’ cheese. I made way, way too much…”