#moreldis

Kayram and Eyr would both dress as sheep, but Eyr would be, like, a cute fluffy sheep with simple face paint, and Kayram would make a papier-mache properly-proportioned sheep mask and make concerningly accurate sheep noises all night

Sorah would be whatever sexy costume at the Halloween store was the most colorful and flashy, and she’d tailor the costume herself to fit her

Ignam would be a (also sexy) fireman, misunderstanding what a fireman does,

Viyer would just wear normal clothes + hairclip devil horns

Moreldis used to count her incarnations, but lost track around a dozen, partly because she can’t actually remember between incarnations. (It’s been several times that by now.)

———

Kreah uses kid-appropriate language in the canon proper so I am grateful for this opportunity to let Moreldis say fuck

This is set pre-canon, after the Ettan gods have gone and done their thing, but before Kayram shows up.

———

“Ignam?” Moreldis knocked on the side of Ignam’s alcove, and he popped out a minute later looking disheveled and put-off.

“What do you want?” he grumbled.

“Just to talk.” She glanced inside the alcove to find Sorah up to her neck in Ignam’s covers, glaring. Moreldis looked away. “Am I interrupting something?”

The look on Ignam’s face was enough to answer her question.

Moreldis cleared her throat. “Well, since that’s done...”

“Fine.” Ignam adjusted his clothes to something a little less perilous and Moreldis pulled him outside.

Ignam leaned on the outside of the temple, arms crossed. “So, what needs my urgent attention?”

Moreldis scratched her neck. “You seemed the most likely to help me.” Ignam raised an eyebrow, but Moreldis continued, “I’m worried about Trika and the others.”

“That’s over and done with, isn’t it?” Ignam wouldn’t be easily convinced that this was worth his time.

“Maybe.” Moreldis crossed her arms, half-defensive. “I hope so. But before she left, Trika said something about the cult of Etta.

“You think they’ll cause trouble?”

“I’m afraid they might.”

“Then we find the Ettan in charge and set them on fire.”

Moreldis pinched the bridge of her nose. “That’s exactly what I thought you’d say, you dumb fucking horse.”

“Listen,” Ignam protested, “I may be a horse, and I may fuck, but I’m not dumb.”

Moreldis smacked his arm.

“Ow. Hey.” Ignam scowled. “You came to me. If you don’t like my ideas—“

“I didn’t come to you for ideas,” Moreldis said. “I came to you for firepower.”

A slight smile twitched on Ignam’s face. “I’ve got that,” he agreed. “But doesn’t that imply you want to set someone on fire?”

“I want to keep my options open.” Moreldis struggled to keep a stern face.

Ignam snorted. “Come back when you have a plan. And let me know ahead of time.”

(A note before I begin: this trio of rowdy teens was made up on the spot for this drabble; they mean nothing)

The sky was dark, and the temple seemed almost malicious at night. Still, egged on by her giggling friends, Trayha stepped inside.

It was darker in here, but as far as she could see, it was empty. That was almost more unsettling than the darkness; the temple was always so lively.

“Anyone there?” Eran called inside. Mira shushed him, but there was no other response. Mira giggled and followed Trayha inside.

How Trayha had wound up in the lead, she didn’t know. She groped her way around, feeling the edges of the alcoves and naming them as she passed. Viyer. Kayram. Garan. Empty. Eyr. Sorah. Ignam. Achine. Empty. Empty. Fahrai. Empty. She stuck her hand inside the empty alcove and shivered.

Someone pushed her. She shrieked and fell against the far wall of the alcove, heart pounding, but calmed down when she heard Mira and Eran giggling. “It’s not funny,” she objected, but when nothing bad happened, she was soon laughing along with them.

“Get out.”

Trayha yelped and her legs turned to ice. She widened her eyes, straining to see something in the darkness. Mira and Eran had gone silent.

“Get out,” the voice repeated, and Trayha caught a glimpse of moonlight reflecting off of dark eyes.

“Kreah Moreldis?” Trayha squeaked, frantically recounting alcoves.

“Mortal girl, this will be your last warning—“

Trayha came to her senses and scrambled outside the alcove, sinking into a kneel outside. “Kreah Moreldis, forgive me, please,” she murmured frantically. The others moved behind her, but she blocked them from her vision. “I didn’t know it was your alcove; I thought it was empty, and anyway, these two pushed me in, so it wasn’t my fault.”

“Hey,” Mira said.

“I’m very, very sorry, and I’ll never play in the temple again. Please allow me long life.” She stayed kneeling for a few moments longer than necessary, and when she looked up, Moreldis’s alcove was empty.

Eran helped her to her feet. “Let’s go home,” he said, “and pretend this never happened.”

“Let’s.”

——