"You're late." The unimpressed tone pierced Lenity's ears before she had even fully entered the room.

  "I apologize, Grand Deiwos, I had been preoccupied by- "

  "I don't care." The interruption was sharp, cutting through her explanation with finality. "Help us finish writing the rune."

  "As you command." Lenity bowed low to the Grand Deiwos and made her way to the center of the room. The half-finished rune lay etched into the floor—a complex lattice of interwoven glyphs and sigils. She knelt beside the intricate scribblings, her crystalline fingers immediately finding the section she had been assigned.

  Her segment was second nature to her, committed to memory so thoroughly that she could draw it blindfolded. Her hand moved with practiced precision, strokes flowing smoothly across the glowing surface. This left her mind free to wander, and instead of focusing on the task, she observed her surroundings.

  Lenity was honoured to have been invited to such an important event. She wasn't sure exactly why she was invited. It was true that despite refusing to grow up and remaining a child, Lenity was still given a lot of responsibility, which must have meant they valued her skills to some degree. Even then, this still seemed too high calibre of an event for her.

  Not only was everyone else in this room already an adult with their wings, but they also had each grown up multiple times. The person in this room with the fewest number of wings, other than Lenity, still had four pairs!

  It pained Lenity to know what was required to get those wings, though it still represented the value and greatness of these devadoots that bore them. They each wore the white garb of royalty and carried themselves with the utmost nobility.

  Once Lenity completed her section of the rune, she moved to the side of the room to give the others space to finish. She couldn't help but notice that, despite their sections being smaller and less intricate than hers, the others were taking far longer to complete their work. Lenity wasn't quite sure why this was the case. Perhaps there was something that she wasn't knowledgeable enough to notice yet.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by the monotonous voice of the Grand Deiwos. "Please leave your star dial outside of the chamber. We don't want to overwhelm our guest."

  "Of course, Grand Deiwos." Lenity bowed to the devadoot and left the room, carefully placing the glowing disc from her back against the hallway wall. The star dial hovered effortlessly, its ethereal light unwavering as it aligned itself to face her. Detached from its creator, the disc seemed almost indifferent, its quiet radiance starkly contrasting the unease she felt without it.

  Lenity took a steadying breath. She wasn't used to the absence of its presence; its gentle hum was a constant comfort in her life. Now, with that familiar weight gone, she felt oddly exposed—naked, even. Still, she knew better than to question the Grand Deiwos' request. With a final glance at the star dial, she returned to the chamber.

  When Lenity re-entered the chamber, she realized the others had already begun. Without missing a beat, she hurried to her designated position at the center of the formation. The intricate weave of the ritual's energy buzzed around her, each devadoot casting in perfect harmony. Lenity inhaled deeply, her nerves taut but steady.

  Her role was the most arduous of all: to delve into the soul sea deeper than any devadoot had dared. To do this, she had to completely segregate her soul from her body and have faith that the royal devadoots had the ability to bring her back when she needed it.

  Lenity knelt and clasped her hands before her, closing her eyes as she began the separation. She could feel the pull of the sea immediately, a gentle tide beckoning her deeper. The sensation of detaching her soul was strange and disorienting, as though her very essence was being unwound thread by thread.

  Lenity felt the ritual spell weave through her, pulling her consciousness free from its mortal tether. The sensation was both unsettling and strangely euphoric, like shedding a heavy, cumbersome cloak. Her soul lifted out of her body, and she stood atop her own corpse like some kind of omnipresent observer.

  Her flesh lay on the chamber floor, motionless yet tranquil, as though in a deep, untroubled sleep. The soft rise and fall of her chest felt distant, like an afterthought, a remnant of a self she no longer fully inhabited. The breathing was now managed by her fellow devadoots, her body no longer her own.

  The shallow depths of the soul sea unfolded like a dreamscape around Lenity, a place where the boundaries of reality were faint whispers. She saw wandering souls tethered faintly to the mortal realm, each one a fragment of life that lingered on the edge of existence.

  Ancient devadoots swam through the space, their forms translucent and shimmering, like light reflected on water. They paid no mind to walls or ceilings, moving effortlessly through the physical barriers of the chamber.

  The sight of the royals' wings made Lenity flinch. Her soul quivered, recoiling from the unsettling truths these wings whispered. She didn't want to stay in this depth any longer, she didn't want to have to see.

  Lenity extended her soul into the depths of the soul sea. One end clung firmly to her body, tethered to the mortal plane to ensure her survival. The other end reached out, growing thinner and more delicate as it extended into the vast, unknown depths. She had a powerful logoic presence, so she had plenty of soul to spend.

  The descent was unrelenting. The deeper she fell, the more her connection to her body frayed—not severed, but distant, as if it existed in another lifetime. Slowly, the familiar sensations of the physical world slipped away. The coolness of the chamber's floor, the faint hum of the air, the subtle pull of gravity—all of it dissolved into nothingness.

  Her five senses fizzled out one by one, replaced by an overwhelming awareness of her soul's presence. She could no longer see, hear, or feel in any conventional sense, yet she perceived everything around her with startling clarity. The vastness of the soul sea pressed against her, its ancient currents rippling with echoes of life's very nature.

  For the first time, Lenity felt genuinely unbound. Her soul wandered freely, untethered by the limits of her body, as it dove deeper into the unknown. Here, in the depths of the soul sea, she was no longer devadoot or child or executioner. She was simply: Lenity.

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  At this depth, the soul sea was alien and unyielding. Nothing here bore even a whisper of connection to the mortal realm. The souls that drifted in these depths were ancient, their ties to mortality long severed, their essence reshaped by the infinite expanse of the sea. Lenity's presence was an anomaly—a tethered soul piercing into a domain that had no room for such bonds.

  Her stretched soul began to feel the weight of her intrusion. A faint strain tugged at the thread connecting her to her body, a groaning ache that reverberated through her very essence. It wasn't pain, not in the physical sense, but a deep, resonant discomfort that warned of how far she had already ventured.

  The soul sea responded subtly, its currents pushing against her progress as if to deter her. She could feel it brushing against her soul, not maliciously, but with a quiet insistence that she didn't belong.

  Ignoring the strain, Lenity pushed onwards. Her essence surged forward like a blade cutting through resistance. Each inch of progress was slow and deliberate, the groaning pull at her soul growing stronger with every step.

  As Lenity pressed on, the soul sea darkened into a void so profound it felt like the very concept of light had been swallowed. At this depth, she was surrounded by an abyss that didn't simply lack illumination but seemed to repel it, a place where existence itself began to lose meaning.

  She delved further into the fabric of life, piercing layers so abstract and ancient that even the most venerable, detached souls couldn't persist here. The faint echoes of their essences had long faded, leaving nothing but a ubiquitous silence that was almost oppressive. Lenity felt the weight of this emptiness pressing down on her, an intangible force that threatened to crush her resolve.

  She descended further into that pure darkness, fighting against the immense pressure. It was as though the soul sea itself was trying to deny her existence, forcing her to justify each moment of her continued descent.

  With each inch she pushed forward, the dissociation grew stronger. Her connection to reality—her identity, her purpose, even her sense of self—began to fray at the edges. The world she had known felt distant, like a half-forgotten dream, and her body on the surface seemed like an anchor she could barely perceive anymore.

  Then, out of the darkness, Lenity spotted a titanic spotlight. It was a lonesome soul. The radiance of the titanic soul was overwhelming, its brilliance carving through the domineering black of the depths like a star illuminating an eternal night. Lenity's soul quivered under the weight of its light, not from fear, but from sheer awe. This was a soul of an incomprehensible scale, its presence stretching endlessly like the soul sea itself, shining with a beauty that eclipsed everything Lenity had ever known.

  Her determination wavered for the first time, replaced by an irresistible curiosity. Lenity made a slight detour, drawn to the dazzling anomaly. She pressed onward, the immense pressure of the soul sea lifting as the soul's luminescence seemed to take her burden from her.

  She nearly danced the final steps to this soul, and then she pierced the blinding veil of its soul light. The clarity hit her like a thunderclap. This wasn't just any soul—it was one she recognized.

  Lenity's soul fluttered with uncontainable reverence. Her very essence sang as she called out into the luminous abyss, her voice only trembling a little under the weight of her admiration. "Great Patriarch! Great Patriarch, over here!"

  The titanic soul did not respond immediately. It pulsed faintly, its light radiating in gentle waves.

  Lenity's stretched soul felt laughably small next to the Great Patriarch's presence, a mere speck compared to the vast, unending brilliance of this divine anomaly. It was comical, almost absurd, to imagine herself standing before such an entity. Her essence hovered like an acorn, gazing upward at the immense tree that birthed it. She was an insignificant fragment of the whole, yet here she was, daring to call out to the source itself.

  Her admiration only grew as she observed the intricate patterns of the Great Patriarch's soul. Threads of light and shadow wove together in an infinite tapestry, each strand humming with the weight of eons. It was not just a soul; it was a story, a history, an entire cosmos unto itself.

  "Great Patriarch," she called again, her voice infused with both awe and desperation. "It is I, Lenity, your humble servant. Do you hear me?"

  The light trembled, and for a moment, Lenity thought she saw it shift—an imperceptible motion, a ripple of acknowledgment. Her heart, if her soul could claim such a thing in this form, leapt with hope.

  If this was indeed the Great Patriarch, then perhaps she had found more than an anomaly. Perhaps she had found a miracle.

  The great Patriarch finally noticed her. Its vast, glowing tendrils enveloped Lenity, their touch warm and soothing, as though the very essence of comfort and care had taken shape to cradle her.

  Lenity's soul, stretched so thin, found an anchor in the Patriarch's embrace, and for the first time since she had begun her descent, she felt truly at peace.

  The Patriarch's voice rang out, pure and melodic, carrying the weight of eternity yet as gentle as a lullaby. "Little Lenity is that you? Your soul is much smaller than I thought it would be."

  Lenity's essence flickered with a mixture of embarrassment and pride. "That's because I haven't passed on yet, Patriarch. My soul is still connected to my body. I've been stretching it very thin to get this deep."

  The Patriarch's light dimmed momentarily as if mirroring the furrow of a brow in concern. "Isn't that painful? Is everything alright little Lenity?"

  The question wrapped itself around her like another tender embrace, and for a moment, Lenity almost forgot the strain in her soul. The depth of the Patriarch's care was overwhelming, far greater than she had ever imagined.

  "It does ache a little," she admitted, her voice soft but steady. "But I will be fine… for now. I am on an important quest for the new Deiwos."

  The Patriarch's light rippled, a faint tremor of unease flowing through the tendrils that held her. "Important enough to risk harm to your soul? Little one, you must be careful. The soul is resilient, but even it has limits. Why have you delved so far into the sea's depths?"

  Lenity hesitated, not wanting to worry the Patriarch further, but she couldn't bring herself to lie—not to it. "I'm searching for someone," she said, her voice tinged with resolve. "Someone at the bottom of the sea."

  The Patriarch's warmth enveloped her more tightly, as though shielding her from the crushing depths. "You've always been brave, little Lenity," it said, its voice a gentle hymn. "But promise me you will not push yourself beyond your limits. The sea is vast and dark, and even the strongest lights can flicker if stretched too thin."

  Lenity's soul pulsed with gratitude. "I wish you weren't so far into the soul sea; we could talk for so much longer then. Why are you buried this deep? Has the mortal realm escaped your consciousness already? Don't you still carry the divine realm in your heart—or at least harbour resentment toward the White Witch for ending your life?"

  The Patriarch's laughter boomed like a sacred melody, its reverberations coursing through Lenity's essence and shaking her soul to its core. "Oh, little Lenity," it said, its tone a blend of fondness and mirth, "the White Witch never killed me."

  Lenity opened her mouth to ask the Patriarch what it meant, but before the words could form, a sharp, agonizing pain pierced her very soul. Sensing the disturbance, the Patriarch cast a sorrowful gaze down upon her fragile presence. With an expression of deep pity, the great soul extended another tendril to hold and imbued her with a surge of energy.

  "Go, little Lenity," the Patriarch's voice echoed, its tone tinged with sadness and care. "You'll have more time to speak with me when you are dead. Go find your someone, whomever they may be."

  "Yes, Patriarch," Lenity whispered softly, her soul reverberating with respect and gratitude. She allowed herself one final, lingering moment to absorb the immense presence of the Patriarch's soul, basking in the radiance of the greatest devadoot to ever live. Then, with renewed strength surging through her, she plunged once more into the depths of the soul sea.