“You agreed to this pretty quickly…” Kayen muttered as he followed Psiksi up the stairs.
“Well, I know exactly how you feel, so it’s pretty much my duty to help you!”
Psiksi was a very brightly coloured Skyavok, pale skin with white and yellow armour. Kayen always thought he stood out with his orange and red highlights, but Psiksi could have been used as a beacon on a gloomy night, his organic armour was so bright.
“Why do you feel that?” Kayen asked. “You’ve done things with the Dessaron.”
The yellow Skyavok peered over his shoulder, smiling. “Yeah, you basically said it right there. I’ve done things “with” the Dessaron. Most people just see me as a mediocre replacement to Arkay. Despite the fact that I’ve raised the Dessaron’s popularity and stopped them from being a relic of the past, I too spend time wondering about what am I really doing here. That’s how you feel, right? That you don’t feel like you’ve done anything and you don’t deserve your fame.”
Kayen didn’t answer. Psiksi stopped at the top of the stairs and unlocked the door and opened it. But he didn’t step through.
“Oh piss. Wrong key.”
“What do you mean?”
Past the doorway was not a new room but a grassy landscape, with a house not too far away.
“Huh, he rebuilt quickly…” Kayen noticed. “Looks nice.”
“You’ve been here too, I assume.”
“Yeah. He brought us back here and talked about something or another.”
“The not-being-dragged-into-these-messes talk?”
“Yeah.”
Psiksi smiled again. “Well, we might as well go in. He knows we-”
“Helloooooooooooo!”
A yellow Skyavok, even more yellow than Psiksi, appeared somehow from behind them, then leaped in front of them. He grabbed Psiksi and Kayen by the hands and pulled them into the grassy landscape, essentially dragging them towards the house.
“I can’t even begin to describe how happy I am to see you both!” the yellow Skyavok exclaimed. As they reached the house, the Skyavok grabbed three chairs and placed them around a glass table, one that Kayen remembered too well.
“Uh, you alright there?” Psiksi asked, trying to defuse the situation a little. “You’re acting… very… odd…”
“Are you well, Arkadi-” Kayen tried to repeat the question, but the yellow Skyavok quickly interrupted.
“Please, call me Arkay! And yes, I am absolutely fine! I’ve been thinking about things and I think I’ve stumbled across a great idea! You two coming along is absolutely perfect!”
Kayen glanced at Psiksi. They both knew Arkay was actually Arkadin, the Thantophor, the Avatar of Death and Decay. But Kayen hadn’t seen Arkadin stick so closely to his mortal form. Normally there would at least be a flicker of ominous black smoke, but today Arkadin was just a Skyavok. A very attractive one, funnily enough.
“What does a good idea have to do with you reprising as Arkay rather than being Arkadin?” Psiksi asked. He wasn’t the sort to shut up and not ask questions.
“Well, let me answer with another question! Are you two feeling lucky?”
Psiksi glanced at Kayen. Kayen gulped nervously. Mostly because, as a normal Skyavok, Arkadin looked genuinely attractive. Defined muscles on his arms, well-trimmed armour, slightly taller than average… and those eyes. Those piercing, almost golden eyes.
“In what way do you mean lucky?” Psiksi asked more questions. “As in, a movie reference sort of lucky, or just in general?”
Arkay sighed, then smiled. “I’ll just tell you. I’m thinking of rebranding myself a little. Because there’s a godly niche that hasn’t really been filled yet and I think I can fill it in my own, unique way. I want to rebrand myself as a trickster god of luck.”
Psiksi shrugged. “Sure. But why are you asking us?”
“Because you two are the first mortals I’ve seen since I decided upon my idea?” Arkay also shrugged. “I always felt that Skyavok were notoriously lucky anyway. You live super happy lives, a perfect blend of multicultural Ksithan ways, strict Rethavok organization and the romance of Temthan society without the nasty rapey bits, located in a place that makes you almost impossible to invade while ensuring you have a rich economy. I mean, I made myself into a Skyavok on a whim, but the more time I spent as Arkay, the more I realised that you Skyans are extremely lucky…”
“So let me get this straight…” Kayen was confused as heck. “You want to be a god of luck and are going to use a Skyavok body to do so?”
“With some tweaks, yes. Based on you, Psiksi and my old Arkay self.”
Arkay leaped to his feet and bounced off inside the house. Crashing and banging could be heard as he rummaged around for goodness knows what.
Kayen took a deep breath. “You know what, Psiksi? I was thinking that I wasn’t deserving of my sudden claim to fame. But now I’m thinking that maybe we’re meddling too much.”
“Eh, I get what you mean…” Psiksi nodded. “He would have done this anyway, whether you were here or not… But really, this can only be a good thing, right? A happy death god is a good death god, as far as I’m concerned.”