[Dazadi]

Dazadi kicked open the gilded doors that led into Xanth's throne room. Despite their size and weight, they bounced off the marble pillars behind them with a resounding crash. The noise sent a hoarde of imps scurrying across the floor into the deep shadows cast by the oil basins that lined the long hall. Midnight, the shapeshifting puma that guarded the temple portal (at Xanth's whim, it seemed, since the portal only opened when she wanted it to anyway), came at her growling but thought better of it when he saw her.

Daz peered around the room for sign of Xanth herself. She had never seen the temple so gloomy. Granted, the few times she had been here, she hadn't been in the mood to play tourist, and her romp with Kiril probably wasn't a good standard to hold up since, as it turned out, Purple Hair had been toying with them the whole time. But, despite her insistence on hating Xanth, Daz had to worry. She was known as the Creator, not as Sit-In-The-Dark-Brooding.

She spotted the woman seated cross-legged in the centre of the floor where a live mural played out of a foreign world Daz had never seen but rather suspected was the one she'd come to ask about. Stomping up behind old Purple Head and bracing her feet shoulder-width apart with her arms crossed over her chest, as if she was speaking to Wolf during one of his rebellious phases, Daz ground out, “I don't suppose you want to tell me what in the vlareon's buttocks is going on?”

[Xanth]

Xanth was wearing her "little girl outfit", a six-year-old cherub with strawberry blonde girls that bounced when her head moved and fake Apali wings. They were fake because they were much smaller than a real fledgling's and pure white, glistening like snowfall from her shoulder blades. The denim capris she wore had red poppies appliqued up one leg and baby pink lace hems. The vest she wore was the same colour and equally lacy.

She did not bother to turn from the candid mural or goings-on in Acantha. She had sensed Dazadi's arrival long before the Skotados actually made it into the temple proper, deliberately toying with the Aide by bumping her all the way to the bottom of the temple gardens directly from the portal. "I do not wish to speak of vlareon buttocks." She might have waxed philosophical about whether the creatures even had buttocks to speak of, but she was watching closely the interaction between Rahil'Taj ibn Murad and Dananka. The drunken god knew, or at least suspected, she was watching; as many of his smirks were meant for her as for the Zanaryans.

The mural shifted, sweeping miles across the Acanthan landscape to settle on another group of would-be explorers. The Xanth-child gritted her teeth, chubby cheeks tightening as yet another of her children fell to the onslaught of a Malaki hunting party. Though the other tribes had yet to push through the portal, taking the Inaki's complete demise as a hint that the reopened portal led to lands even more dangerous than their own, they countered the sudden influx of foreigners with extreme prejudice. Few Elysians got past them. Were Rahil not blatantly attempting to undo her hard work, she would no doubt be proud of his group's success, though in reality he could only chalk it up to having The Vanguard at his disposal.

Finally acknowledging Dazadi's presence, Xanth pouted up at the woman. "Why do you think you deserve to know?"

[Dazadi]

“Well, let's see, shall we? Why do I think I deserve to know.” Crossing her arms over her stomach and jutting out her right hip, Daz arched a slender eyebrow at the god-child. A hand flapped, and she counted off on her fingers, “Hello. I've been your aide for how long now? Done everything you've asked of me and more.” She would ignore for now the fact that whatever she had done, it was usually reluctantly and grumbling all the way. That wasn't the point.

“I've defended this world up one side and down the other and now I find out there's been a threat looming over us longer than even I can imagine. Because that's what this is, right?” Done with the counting, she pointed sharply at old Purple Hair. Even though the fake child's hair was actually blonde right now. “You've been keeping secrets, Xanthypoo. Time to spill.”

[Xanth]

The Xanth-child's lips twitched. Amusement sparked across her round face but there was anger banked in the girl's violet eyes. “Everything, you say?” A blonde eyebrow went up but she did not list the innumerable occasions where Dazadi either flatly refused to do as requested or made such a production of it that Xanth had to do it herself. Dazadi would be aware exactly what the eyebrow was for and, in all honesty, Xanth would concede that they were equal in this sense. Just as Dazadi acted the reluctant hero, Xanth gave her cause to be reluctant. Their relationship had improved dramatically in recent years, as had the ex-assassin's sanity, but she rather doubted they would ever be friends.

Dismissing the would-be fight, Xanth turned back to her mural. “You are right, of course.” She sighed, an anachronistic sound for the form she was wearing. Sweeping a hand across the mural, she moved the picture to focus on a group of explorers decimated by the dangers they had underestimated. “Elysians are in danger. Sadly, there is little we can do to help them.” Once through the portal, they were on their own. It was all part of Danae's game.

[Dazadi]

Daz coughed and suddenly found a vine interesting, but also said nothing to Xanth's challenge. They both knew she could never be called the ideal Aide, but that wasn't the point. “Are you insane? Wait, no.” She held up a hand and shook her head. “I already know you are, but what are you on, "they can't be helped".” She lowered her voice as if mimicking a man rather than a goddess currently in the form of what was meant to be an adorable child. Dazadi had never been motherly, so instead of cute, she found the creature creepy.

Abandoning her tough stance, she moved closer to sit on her haunches opposite the little girl. Midnight's green eyes blazed at her from deep shadows behind the throne but Daz merely gave the stupid cat the finger.

“You know more than anyone that I am not the religious type, but you've got people wailing on the streets thinking they've lost their faith because some upstart has been revealed as the god of yet another realm. Seriously, what's with that?” It was hard enough keeping track of the three Daz knew of.

[Xanth]

The Xanth-child's golden hair twitched and the air around her darkened, but she showed little other reaction to Dazadi's insults. Now was not the time for a the Skotados to be poking the bear, but it would seem Dazadi had other ideas.

Violet eyes tracking the ex-assassin's movements, the little girl remained mute until she spoke again. Every word was like a needle pricking her already sizable guilt. She had gone to Dananka hoping to end their millennia-old stand-off. She had gone to him in arrogance, assuming that because she was physically stronger that she had the advantage. He had wormed around the terms of their agreement so she could not confront him even as her children tore themselves apart in doubt.

“There have been other "gods" before,” she dismissed with a vague wave of a small hand. In her heart, however, she knew this was different. This was no mere "upstart" or even a demi-god. Danae had real powers with which to impress anyone who entered his territory, and the willingness to do so. Where she had hidden and secretly manoeuvred in an effort to maintain order without stealing free will, Danae would gladly make slaves of them all. “I have always given my children the freedom to follow whatever faith suits them best. That they abandon me now shows just how little trust they have in me.”

[Dazadi]

“That's cold.” Daz blinked and rubbed her fingers through the electric-blue ends of her hair. She sighed when she looked at the pouting child. “They turn away because they haven't seen nor heard from you in a good long while. Where were you when that quake hit, for instance? One time of day, you'd be out on the streets, if not helping them pick up then at least making your presence known. The Voice has been so active lately but they were already struggling to regain a footing because you never showed to back them. You can't turn your back on them and expect them to stay faithful.” She should know. Her own lifemate had abandoned her because she couldn't be the adoring little wifey. It was only her being an Aide, and non-'Vari to boot, that kept them alive.

[Xanth]

The Xanth-child's eyebrows and lips twitched, dimples appearing in her cheeks with the flicker of a smile. Leave it to Dazadi Rhea - no, Dazadi Dacre as she had always been - to speak the truth without fear of consequence.

In all honesty, such words should not have stung so. Xanth had pulled back from her children for a reason. Events in recent centuries had convinced her more and more that her presence and that of her Aides was only interfering in the greater scheme of things. Personal betrayal had embittered her, first with Namiko's defection and finally with Nymphadora's abandonment. Dimitri's treachery had led to war; Xanth felt the subsequent loss of lives deeply.

“Perhaps you are right.” She would not consider Dazadi stupid or lacking intelligence - she had, after all, been a master assassin worthy of Xanth's interest long before she became an Aide - but she rarely spoke words of wisdom. She was brash and interested only in immediate solutions, and she more than anyone had ridiculed Xanth's portrayal as a goddess. She did not, and could not, understand Xanth's true nature as a Tanakheimein, but by instinct alone she viewed her mistress as little more than a petulant child in charge of a toy that could end the world. It was perhaps for this reason that their relationship had been so tumultuous.

“Then what would you have me do?”

[Dazadi]

Daz opened her mouth and held up a finger, preparing to give a lecture, then froze like that when she realised she had nothing to say, no clue what to suggest. “You're the one who likes to play God, Xanthy-poo. Surely you have a better idea than me how to go about it?”

Abandoning her lecture pose and making a mental note to have Styx teach her better later (the ex-instructor had always been so good at it), Daz shot to her feet and carefully stepped around the mural. She knew, of course, that the ant-like people in it could not be damaged by her accidentally stepping on them, but it would still feel like she was squishing them if she did. “Honestly, Xanth, how am I meant to know how to be a goddess? The closest anyone's come to worshipping me has been when fledglings have begged me to train them and they've always gone home disappointed.” Nudging at a mountain top with the toe of her boot, Daz jerked back when a rock started to fall.

Good thing she had avoided stepping on people. Apparently this mural wasn't just one-way.

“Just do something. Sitting around here all day won't going to get you anything but a numb bum.”

[Xanth]

The corner of the Xanth-child's lips pulled into a moue at the nickname Dazadi insisted on using. "Xanthy-poo" was a ridiculous moniker for someone twelve millennia old. She refrained from stating that Arkadios Rhea had worshipped Dazadi; to speak of him would be nothing short of cruel.

“Dazadi, my dearest.” She gave a saccharine smile which, when coupled with her words, was sure to put a chill down the Skotadi's spine. “You have shown great wisdom this day. It is high time we stop hiding our actions. From this day, you may feel free to do your job as nature and your personality dictate.” Her lips twitched, those dimples appearing yet again, at the thought of just how Dazadi Dacre would 'see fit'. So long as the woman did not cause any more war or strife in the doing... “And perhaps I should pay a visit to our good friend, Kiril.” Chenoan was lower on the list; he had made clear that he was much happier now that he was retired.

Climbing to her feet, the child morphed gracefully into the young woman she favoured, long blonde curls shaking loose about her shoulders. “I shall be in the quadrangle if you have need of me.” With a dainty bob that may pass for a curtsey, Xanth disappeared in a poof of purple smoke.

Behind Dazadi, Midnight growled.

[Dazadi]

That tore it. Whatever else was wrong with Xanth, Daz was pretty sure now that she was looney tunes. "My dearest"? "Great wisdom"? “Have you been inhaling something you shouldn't?”

Brilliant blue eyes widening with every word that bounced out of the little girl's mouth, Daz blinked and suddenly found herself alone. She was barely given chance to digest what the heck just happened when the oversized cat Xanth called a temple guardian began to growl at her heels. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I get it, the mice aren't welcome when the cat's away. Oh, wait, that'd be you.” She scampered back when the furball lunged, gave a cheeky wave and mirrored Xanth's own actions: She teleported out with a petty poof.

Someone remind me to find Xanth's marbles. Gods knew, one of them needed to be sane.

OOC: Thread finished.