“If others are dying

to reach where you’re starting,

you’ll stop climbing

and enjoy the view.

Not as majestic as from the peak

But rewarding nonetheless.

Why bleed everything

just to hunt for the Phoenix’s tailfeather,

When you can rest on pillows

Made out of plucked duck feather?”

----Kui Xing, Lord of the North Stars, Patron of Scholars,“the Omniglotg”

25°07'47"N 107°27'31"W

“Oh, that man-wolf is intolerable; you cannot have a deep conversation with that creature.” Kui placed his hand on his horned forehead and sighed.

“Well, he is great at what he does. And that is about it. Just--- ugh relax.” Dolus lit up his pipe and gagged for inhaling too much smoke. “Ugh, my dear Ueuecoyotl, that is some good quality tobacco here. Thanks.”

The man-wolf was focusing on the plaza. Indigenous, mortal girls were singing and dancing the songs of the nine Muses from the Mediterranean. Globalization, at its finest, in the fifth world.

“No problem, my pale-beaked friend. I snatched them from some of the village elders,” He laughed. “ Huehuehue, they were too old to stop me, so they just watched in disbelief as I snatched their tobacco pouches in my beast form.”

“From one trickster to another, those weren’t trickery, but robbery.”

“Is that the hogman’s pipe? Are those runes engraved on it?” Kui detested the smell and stepped away from Dolus.

“A parting gift. P16 made one for me. He surely left something useful for you before his spiritual retreat. He would never say it, but you are considered a friend.” Dolus patted Kui on the shoulder.

“Yea, a coin. Poor quality, too. Like he picked it up somewhere under a rock.” Kui took out a golden medallion and rubbed it with his thumb. “I guess I carry a lucky coin around like some mortal now, huh?”

“Relax, K11, enjoy the show and live the moment. Most importantly, stop trying to recruit every immortal you know to your cause.” T11 opened a can of Sapien beverage and took a sip. “Ahh..Woo! Bubbly! Just the way I like it. Do you see? This is what being immortal is about. What was the word you say we are on right now?”

“Sabbaticus.” Kui shook his head and left the carnival.

Dolus trailed along, emptying his pipe by smashing it against a pine tree. “You know, P16 used to be mad at T11 all the time. Said the man-wolf lacks discipline and aspiration.”

“Ironically, those words came from a fatalist who had abandoned both. P16 is the one that lacks aspiration and motivation. In his mind, everything’s written in the stars, and we are all part of some grand theatrical performance.”

“Well, his grand theatrical show is rendering him into a defeatist.” Dolus shrugged with a sigh.

“Touche.”Kui nodded in agreement. He saw the wasted potential and misused divinity.

“Are you two talking about P16? Shame he can’t be here; all these delights are going to waste.” T11 budged in, waving a pair of roasted turkey legs at the two brooding immortals. “That sloppy Pigman improved my recipe; I swear the meat’s not tough and stringy this time!”

“I guess he had too much sugar in his system, and I think those Sapien poison is giving him a euphoria.” Kui shook his head and rolled up his eyes.

“Well, I am glad to try any recipe that is P16’s. Believe it or not, he is a decent chef and gourmet. Also, free oblations, why not?” Dolus took a turkey leg and handed it to Kui. “Lie to me and say this doesn’t smell delicious.”

“It does smell differently from any of the poultry I have had.” Kui took the leg by the bone and took a small bite.

“This time, I told my priests to inject the bird with honey and fruit juice and club its meat a hundred times; then they covered the bird with caul fat, wrapped it up with magnolia leaves. Finally, they hung the masterpiece over a pile of gentle embers. Time would take care of the rest.” T11 explained the cuisine like a proud restaurateur.

Dolus took a bite and smiled with his obsidian teeth out. “Umm, the subtle floral aroma works. The acidic, fruity flavor balances with the caul fat surprisingly well. This turkey taste like a succulent chicken to me.”

“Wow, I never knew Beggar’s Chicken could have such an exotic twist.” Kui raised his thick brows and kept munching on the turkey leg. Though he did not admit how the turkey leg was the best poultry he had in about a century, his dancing eyebrows betrayed him.

“By the way, what are the people celebrating at this time? ” Dolus asked.

“They are celebrating the Grand Welcoming. The day the sapiens joined us on this continent. Two men and an infant found the people, and they welcomed the family. The infant grew up to be a great leader and freed most of the Sapiens from underground. Thanks to her unfinished work, those she left behind became my duty and my living to smuggle around. ” He proudly pointed at the pile of foods, garments, precious metals, and techs he received from the Sapiens as payments of passage to the surface world.

“Freed? Huh, now that is an awfully mortal vocabulary.” Dolus commented.

“I found her letters to her adopted Sapien fathers. P16 read them and left, in search of answers.” T11 gulped down more tin-canned drinks and burped.

“He believes in the conspiracy that the Sapiens are preparing to invade our surface world. I can’t blame him. The Norse gods trained him too well and constantly fueled him with empty glories and vain promises; his earlier mortal years gave him an insecure personality and somewhat of an obsession with validation.” Dolus whipped out a pocket knife and proceeded to carve the turkey. “Though he would not admit it, our hog-lord friend tends to find peace in conflict and strife. Though he was Vanir Chief Freyr’s underling, his soul yearns Vahalla.”

“He does tell you everything, huh?” Kui asked.

“Nah, I am just the only one here that had tapped into his mind, and also profiling is my expertise,” Dolus said before he took another bite of the succulent poultry. “The world tree records and remembers everything. It can answer all questions; smoking its leaves to ask the question, and the visions and the illusions would provide the answers.”

“Pffff, I am pretty sure the Sapiens call that ‘getting high.’ ” T11 interrupted, spitting out bits and bones he lost patience in chewing.

“We don’t dream like the mortals or the Sapiens, so altering and reliving our past is the closest replacement. The sheer amount of information and processing power required would drive mortals insane instantly, and it would damage our memory if overdosed.

“That is why it is outlawed in most lands, by most gods. If I were still the inquisitor I once were, I would seize the two of you for committing sacrilege.” Kui ripped off a turkey wing with telekinesis and said jokingly. “I know for a fact that in the East, under the Tribunal’s rule, you are all daemons or monsters in some legends or tales.”

“Let us have a toast. To the belittled sculptor of illusion; to the misunderstood Sapien smuggler; to the guiding star that was marginalized by his guild; to the restless beast seeking approval from the world!” As T11 tilted his tin can and was ready to shower his mouth with carbonated beverages, the liquid escaped from the container and flew off drop by drop.

“Hey, you did not mention me in your toast.” Y42’s clear and articulated voice pierced through T11’s mind, giving him a buzzing, ringing headache.

“Oh no.” Realizing Y42’s divinity filling up his drink, T11 tossed away the half-full tin can at the dancing and singing crowd as the tin can exploded mid-air, creating a mist of colored sugar and bubbly foams. Everyone dancing in the plaza in front of the stubby pyramid got to taste the drink from the underground world. The crowd and the music both got louder and more festive.

“Y42 is great at creating an entrance, huh?” Kui smiled as he had detected a familiar divinity frequency.

“It’s been a while, Y42.” With his nocturnal sights and exceptional hearing, Dolus naturally saw the movements in the clouds and heard the wind created by Y42’s free fall. “A trickster witnessing a trickster being tricked by a warrior. What a party. ” The same smile appeared on Dolus’s as he grinned with those white lips and obsidian teeth.

“You did not just turn my drink into a water show and waste it! ” The man-wolf howled and hissed at the Lord of Rivers, showing his canines.

“Easy, easy, Ueuecoyotl, a party trick; I do not know you are stingy with your loot and developed a sugar addiction.” Y42, levitating above the pyramid in the darkness of the night, slowly descended to the immortals on it.

“Stop it. And tell me you did not come empty-handed to a reunion party in the United Tribes of the Americas.”

“Of course, I did not forget to bring you gifts.” In Y42 was a shiny lever-action hunting rifle with a shortened barrel without stocks, and the lever and the trigger were wrapped in fleece “Spin and shoot, my friend, spin and shoot. Dragon teeth come out of it.”

“Oh, does this piece of beauty has a hame?” T11 could not wait and laid his hands on the cold, unfeeling firearm.

“Yep, Fratricide is the name, and it is kinda cursed.”

“O shit, I feel it. This gun’s feeling like a mean bitch.” T11 felt a burning hatred emitting from the rifle. “Now I know why you are giving this to me. I am the only one you know that is immune to curses.”

“Ya, better than you giving a cursed skull to P16 without knowing the curse imbued inside.” Y42 smirked.

“Hey, I thought we were not talking about that anymore. I knew I fucked up that time, all right? Stop making fun of me.”

“All right, all right. Come on; there is a carnival going on. And also, I am certain P16 never blamed you for it.” Y42 slapped T11 on the back and said.

“That is true. He even thanked me for putting him through the curses. He is insane, in an unpredictable and masochistic way.” T11 shrugged. “Before meeting him, I thought I was crazy.”