The Panagea Tales Box Set

by McKenzie Austin

  Recounting all the people he had lost in the last year was only accentuated by sitting in the presence of his dead lover’s grave. Nicholai did not often dwell on the burdens such things brought. He was far too busy making sure other people didn’t experience the same losses he had. But at the moment, it gripped him by surprise. The suffocating feeling of forfeiture.

  It did not last long, interrupted by the unexpected presence of one of the few comrades he had left. Umbriel was an expert at approaching undetected until she was no more than several feet away. Her feet melted into the forest floor with experienced precision, careful to step around any fragile twig or dried foliage that might make a sound.

  It wasn’t until her shadow fell over him that Nicholai startled at her presence. “Umbriel—” He flashed a stunned smile, not accustomed to her venturing into the forest with him when she knew he intended to visit Lilac. “What a pleasant surprise.”

  The Earth Mother smiled down at him, taking in the beauty of the forest shortly after. Sunlight caught exposed pieces of metal that had yet to be dominated by moss. Little particles floated in the beams that managed to pierce the thick treetops, weightless in the air. Umbriel enjoyed the peace it brought but did not wish to intrude on Nicholai’s mourning process. Today, however ... she felt compelled beyond all reason to visit. “May I sit?” she asked.

  Nicholai nodded, shifting his weight across the forest floor. “Of course,” he said, clearing a spot by brushing aside some scattered branches he did not want to poke her.

  Umbriel dropped into a seated position beside him, drawing her legs up to her chest as she wrapped her arms around them. When she found a comfortable position, she rested her chin on her knees, tilting her head to face Nicholai. “How did things go with Ganther?”

  The Time Father looked away and smirked, able to find grim humor in unpleasantness. “It went exactly as I expected it to.”

  The shift in his aura let Umbriel know it did not go well. It brought her no surprise. The Odenhardth name had lived as many lifetimes as she had. If Ganther was anything like the Odenhardths she knew hundreds of years ago, compassion did not live inside of him. “I’m sorry,” she said, her tone empathetic. “Perhaps he will come around.”

  “Maybe ...” Nicholai’s voice fell away as his eyes stared off into the trees. He looked contemplative. “Do you ever think we’re not doing enough, Umbriel? So far, we’ve only managed to secure limited strengths in a fraction of Southeastern. It just seems like we could be doing more. More still, if men like Ganther did not hold so tightly to their worldly possessions and their senses of superiority.” He blew out his cheeks and cracked his knuckles. “And then I think of the sorry state the other divisions are in ...”

  “It’s impossible for you to help the other divisions, Nicholai. You are bound to Southeastern.” Umbriel followed his gaze out into the forest, her words soft as they floated away in a breeze. “And even still, there’s much that needs tending to here. You are right to concentrate on Southeastern first, before attempting to expand any of your humanitarian endeavors.”

  Nicholai nodded. He tried to find sense in her wisdom, but his thoughts drifted to the other divisions frequently. That Elowyn of Eastern had still not been found alive or dead plagued him. She must have been alive. She had to be. Time in Eastern still ticked, a luxury it would not have if Elowyn had met an untimely end. Unless she ended up like Emont ...

  Whichever fate was worse, Nicholai could not decide. The unknown horror that was Elowyn’s fate was difficult to pinpoint, as nobody knew what became of her. But Emont ... poor, tortured Emont. To know he became a pet to the Goddess of Animals made Nicholai cringe. To know his ability to lend assistance to the Southwestern Time Father was greatly limited made it even worse. There was not a footman in all of his division that he could spare, and even if he had an army ... the animals at the goddess Kekona’s disposal made short work of any uninvited guests.

  The lesser gods held to their promise that they would fulfill their desire for revenge. They wiped Panagea clean of countless lives. Once the intensity of their rage was tempered with blood, they fell back into their roles in Panagea with a new force. Their cohabitation with humans remained edgier than Nicholai imagined it was hundreds of years ago.

  Still ... numbers headed into Northwestern and Southwestern terrain willingly. That people existed in Panagea, who willingly walked into the mouths of the lesser gods with the full intention of revering them, only made Nicholai aware of how terrible living conditions were for some. People separated themselves from society, reveling in the new lives they would build for themselves under the watchful eyes of the gods. That those people had more faith in vengeful deities, than they did in their division leaders, made Nicholai’s heart ache.

  Many people still trembled at the grotesque consequences of the gods’ reemergence ... but that sentiment was not shared by the land. Panagea, as a structure, seemed to rejoice. Fewer bodies meant natural resources could replenish themselves. Less waste meant less poison. Rivers flowed with purer waters and the need for oxygen syringes was a thing of the past. The gods turned the entire divisions of Northwestern and Southwestern into lush, dense forests. Cleaner air surged freely into the lungs of divisions across the entire continent. Nicholai could not deny the mixed feelings that knowledge brought.

  To know Panagea grew healthier by the day brought some relief. But at what cost?

  “You’re right. Southeastern alone will be a difficult fix,” Nicholai said, finally breaking the silence he shared with Umbriel. “Ganther won’t yield willingly. I doubt any of the blue bloods will trade their luxuries for the welfare of the working poor. I can honestly say, Umbriel, at this point, I do not know which monster is worse,” he muttered, shrugging. “Gods, or men.”

  Umbriel tilted her head, analyzing Nicholai’s face as he writhed in thought. She blinked, calm. “Like everything, they both have their fair share of good and bad.”

  “Yes,” he laughed, finding shelter in the dark humor. “Perhaps it’s a combination of the two that highlights the best qualities in both.” Nicholai turned to find her eyes, flashing a genuine smile. “I mean, you turned out all right.”

  The Earth Mother quelled the rising tide of emotions his compliment caused in her body. She found gratefulness in Nicholai’s observation. After last year, Umbriel developed a bitter taste in her mouth for sharing blood with the lesser gods. It was a flaw she worked on daily in her meditations. The woman perfected sincere acceptance when she was doomed to her island for several hundred years, but returning to Panagea, reacquainting herself with the common man ... Umbriel found herself adopting some of their more primal misgivings. Returning to her worldly state proved difficult some days. “Thank you, Nicholai.”

  “Who knows?” he added, shifting his eyes back out to the woods. “At the rate lesser gods are copulating with human women these days, maybe you’ll see the rise of Earth Mothers again, after all.”

  A brow rose on Umbriel’s face. She turned slowly, cradling her cheek on her forearm. “That is a comforting thought ... and perhaps a little disturbing, as well.”

  Nicholai blinked and cocked his head to the side. “How so?”

  “Without proper training,” Umbriel explained, nonchalant, “an Earth Mother can become as corrupt as any god or man. As you can imagine, someone with the ability to manipulate atoms and cells in both deities and humans has access to a lot of power.”

  Her confession, so casual in its admission, painted a minor look of shock on his face. “I had never really considered the negative effects of such a skill before ...” He knew she harbored unnatural abilities. Nicholai had witnessed Umbriel’s healing powers before. The way she commanded the body’s tissues to meld together at will to close an open wound. But he never reflected on the darker side an ability like that might bring.

  “Oh, yes,” she replied, her voice low. “With a single touch, an Earth Mother could turn anyone’s cells against their body. They would be dead in mo
ments.”

  The look on Nicholai’s face showcased his relief that Umbriel was a friend and not an enemy. He shook off the unsettling mental image, having a hard time imagining her as anything other than the kindhearted soul he came to know over the years. Though Nicholai did not wish to draw more attention to the subject, he could not help but ask, “You’ve always had this ability? Your sisterhood did not defend themselves against the Time Fathers with their skills?”

  Her mind returned to that day. She had no regrets. “We never take a life, Nicholai. Not for anything. People chant their praises of an eye for an eye, but all life is sacred. For anyone to think they are superior enough to take it away is, perhaps, the most unevolved act a person can commit. Earth Mothers are developed people. It is a far greater sin for us to demote ourselves to primitive behaviors than to simply die a quiet death.”

  The way she spoke was matter-of-fact. Concise. As if she would die for that code of ethics. And he knew she would. Nicholai’s subconscious tightened his muscles as his mind drifted to Darjal. The memory of his death played in the Time Father’s head more often than he cared to admit. He often wondered what had happened to the man-turned-god after he fell from the thoughts of Southern’s people. “I know exactly what you mean,” he uttered, his words sounding far away.

  As if she knew what he referred to, Umbriel reached out a hand to put on his shoulder. “What happened with Darjal was an accident,” she said.

  Nicholai felt the weight of her hand on him. He smirked, another macabre facial expression for his growing collection. “Then why does it still feel so bad?”

  Umbriel slid her hand off his shoulder and smiled. For Nicholai’s rhetorical question, she had no answer. Only comfort.

  The caw of an unseen bird sounded overhead. It settled down through the leaves, loud at first, until the creature flew too far to be audible. Nicholai placed his palms on the earth and sighed before he pushed himself to his feet. “Well,” he started, dusting small twigs and dirt from his dress pants, “I suppose I should get back to being productive.” He extended a hand to Umbriel to help her up. “Care to join me?”

  She delighted at his offer and took his hand, rising to stand. “What remains on your agenda for the rest of the day?”

  The Time Father winced, rubbing the back of his neck. “I really need to rendezvous with the division treasurer and see where we’re at financially. On the off chance Ganther does accept the offer I’ve made on his property, I’ll have to reevaluate some things.”

  Umbriel tilted her head. “And if he doesn’t?”

  Nicholai curved his hands into his hair, holding them at the base of his skull as he shook his head. “Then I have to exercise my authority. Gods, I hate having to do that.”

  “Yes,” Umbriel replied with a frown, knowing full well the societal elites of Panagea hated it as well. She despised it too, in that each time Nicholai slighted the blue bloods, the risk to his well-being increased. “You’re not the only one ...”

  Chapter Seven

  “Am I the only one who’s getting uncomfortable with how fast this place has changed?” Avigail wrinkled her nose as she threw her traveling pack over her shoulder and stood up from the prickly forest floor.

  It was as if Northwestern shifted in the blink of an eye. Where torched remnants of buildings once sat, towering trees and sprawling grasses dominated. An endless expanse of greenery laid its blanket over the blackened land, replacing charred bodies with blossoming shrubs and countless organic creations.

  Avigail remembered leaving Nicholai’s home. She remembered embarking on an expedition to find her father. Again. What she failed to recall was exactly when structures became saplings and the entire landscape of a division changed. It had all just happened so fast ...

  Avigail glanced at Itreus with a high brow, awaiting a reply. It was a gamble whether he would give one, but she never ceased to try. Conversations were the only thing that kept her from feeling the sting of loneliness in her travels.

  The God of the Lost took in the sight around him. He turned back to Avigail with a slow blink. Indeed, everything had changed quickly, but he was no stranger to such shifts. “Gods and goddesses do not limit themselves to traditional time restraints,” he explained.

  “I’m starting to figure that out,” the young woman murmured, an undeniable sigh slipping through her teeth. She had hoped to touch the speed the gods mastered in her endeavors, but for as rapidly as the gods succeeded in their goals, her undertakings took time.

  The progress in finding Revi was slow. Avigail had hoped summoning a god would escalate the process, but Itreus moved with a measured pace. He never said more than what needed to be said, nor did more than needed to be done. Certain frustrations came from this; Avigail wanted to complete her mission with unmatched efficiency, but Itreus was steadfast in his behavior.

  Still, for his presence, she remained grateful. It would have been a lonely existence in Northwestern without him.

  There was much less to fear when one was accompanied by a god. But even with Itreus to absorb a portion of her worries, wandering Northwestern land still held its fair share of terrors. It was different than the land she grew up in. Change had a way of heightening one’s fears.

  Lesser gods were everywhere. Even when they could not be seen, their presence was undoubtedly felt. The extensive plant life provided a plentiful amount of hiding places, but Avigail still experienced an unforgiving heaviness in her chest. Whether it was bred by fright or not, she wasn’t entirely sure. It was a strange feeling. One with which she was not familiar.

  She had yet to lay her eyes on a single human being since encountering Itreus. Avigail knew some were here, though they were few and far between. Indications of their existence showed in each swirl of smoke that rose above the treetops, and into the sky. Fires, Itreus explained to her, for cooking meals. For pyres. For summoning and praising the gods who invaded Northwestern.

  The fact that people willingly prayed to the lessers left Avigail with an unsavory feeling. The gods took everything from the people, and here they were, actively revering those who crushed their brothers and sisters. A stab of irony always challenged her thoughts, however, when she looked over and realized she, too, had invited a god into her life.

  That meant, on some level, they couldn’t have been too different from her ...

  Whenever Avigail suggested that they might approach the campsites and interrogate any people there who may have seen her father, Itreus shot her hopes down with a calmed, predictable statement: “There is nothing they can offer that will be of assistance to you.”

  Things in Northwestern fell back into a primal state. Avigail knew it had to be a special breed of humans who traveled to this place. The land reverted into its archaic self, a world of foraging and game hunting, of living off the resources afforded to one by nature and nothing more.

  But they were still people. People who could have led her to her father. People who may have even lived with him, if he and the others stayed in Northwestern. It was not entirely beyond belief to think they might have been corrupted ... manipulated by the gods to stay and pray to them ...

  Then again, Avigail wondered if that thought existed only as a comfort to the other less comforting scenarios.

  Avigail did not know why Itreus encouraged her to stay away from the primitive people of this place. He did not elaborate on the statements he made. He seemed to look at the land with a vague fondness; Itreus told her at one point that he remembered when all of Panagea reflected the ideology claiming Northwestern in its current state: before mankind modernized and industrialized. He seemed to take a liking to it. But something kept him from letting her explore it.

  In the presence of a god with the knowledge of a thousand lifetimes, she heeded his advice. But not without a little stubborn curiosity. She supposed though, that she did not need to seek the people at the campsites ...

  There was only one person she wanted to find.

  That hope, tho
ugh, for how long it had lasted, dwindled with each week they did not find him.

  “I’m getting less and less convinced we’ll find Revi in Northwestern,” Avigail admitted, rotating her shoulder as she stepped up beside the golden-haired god.

  “There is no rush,” Itreus responded with a voice like tempered chocolate. “We have all the time in the world. I will stay with you until you find what you’re looking for.”

  The Houton daughter sighed, half of a smile finding a way to her lips. Itreus was a strange god, but in the lonely landscape she traversed, she grew to enjoy his company. A relief came upon the discovery that he was nothing like the vile pictures people painted in her head. That ride in the steam train from Southeastern into Southern had her second-guessing her decision. More still, the moment she touched Northwestern with Everly and Thom. Everyone seemed to have a negative opinion about the gods.

  Seeing the destruction they caused, Avigail assumed their observations were just. But Itreus ... he did not seem to fit the customary mold of a lesser god.

  The pair walked, weaving through the soaring tree trunks at a leisurely pace. She couldn’t recall how long it had been since she first started looking for Revi. More and more memories came up missing as of late. Avigail supposed the stresses of the environment played a part in that. It was not every day an individual watched their world change drastically. That her body avoided succumbing to shock and denial was a small miracle.

  Still. It felt like long enough. Long enough that they should have encountered some hopeful news. She stole a glimpse of Itreus from the corner of her eyes. He walked with purpose, as if he knew where he headed. In the face of his certitude, Avigail found herself frowning. She needed reassurance. She opened her mouth to speak, but movement from the corner of her eyes caught the woman off guard.