The golden heaven-hawk surged through the air, soaring high above the frosted peaks of the Northern mountains. Behind him in the south, far, far below, the great valley of the Riverlands opened up where the life-giving rivers carved their path through the soft sand of the foothills. In front was the glorious, six-tiered ziggurat, clad in gold and silver, palms and orange trees growing in abundance from its irrigated gardens. At its pinnacle was the palace of the gods, the most luxurious location in all of creation. The hawk dove, heading directly for that lofty perch, his seat of power. Coming through the gold-banded gates of finely carved, fragrant cedarwood, the eagle reformed, feathers shedding and wings folding to form the robes and cloak of Enenshio'a, king of the gods of civilisation. The entranceway of the palace, with its electrum panels decorated with moving depictions of the work of the gods, smelled of the sweetest perfumes imaginable, always filled with the music of the greatest composers. Correcting his robes, and straightening out his wind-ruffled beard, Enenshio'a moved from this gateway and into the throne room, the ceiling taller than the mountain peaks around it, once one was inside. There, seated on the arm of the storm-stone throne of the gods, was eyeless Davtashio'a, running his fingers across the surface of his ever-shifting tablet, reading the knowledge of the world even as it was recorded by mortal hands.

"That potter cut a rather pathetic form, brother, how you came to elect him as the best candidate, I shall never know."

Davtashio'a ruffled his clay brow, stray strands of shining silver hair falling over his empty eye sockets, "I care little for him, it is his family which interests me. I must confess though, Lord, that I learnt of him in a census from some years ago, described therein as a warrior with three sons, his wife clearly important enough to have her own entry below his. On clay, he is a legend in the making."

"He wept, you know? He wept not at the sight of me, as is usual in mortals, but the tidings I brought. He seemed scared by the prospect of a real challenge outside of producing mediocre ceramics."

The blind god of knowledge sniggered, a broad smirk plastered across his face. Enenshio'a sat next to him inside the throne.

"Have you read more of this foreigner, this Zandriduin?"

"Yes, his research notes are becoming ever more nonsensical, I fear he has made a… ah, how to put it? A breakthrough, if you should call it that."

The golden King stroked a bright hand through his beard of lapislazuli, curling an end around his giant's finger.

"What has he found? Has something changed?"

"His descent into madness seems to gather pace, exponentially. He remains, I believe, unaware as to the nature of the elements he is dealing with," said the scribe god, "he writes of things far beyond the fathoming of mortal men, I believe our enemy has him firmly in its grip, now. A shame, he was so full of good intentions for his people when he set out on this journey."

Enenshio'a glanced sidelong at his brother, remembering as he did that the gesture would go unnoticed.

"Good intentions or no, his aims and his actions have always remained contrary to my own goals, he is a thorn to be removed, and olive pit in the paté, so to speak,'' the king turned the phrase over in his head with a grin of pride, "and now you give me this whelp of a potter to take on the challenge."

"Well, we shall see, he may surprise us yet."

Blue-haired Enenshio'a leaned back into his throne with a sigh, "And what news do you have of my twins, do they fare well in the mountains?"

The eyeless god removed his fingers from the tablet he was reading, turning his gorey eye-holes to the king, "Nothing. They haven't been written of yet, which I assume is good news."

"My thanks, brother, you are always helpful. Now, let us not spend eternity at pains over these mortal matters. I fancy a game of Castles and perhaps later you could bring your wife for a banquet? I travel so little nowadays that my jaunt in the south has quite drained me of my desire to rule, for today."

Meanwhile, far to the Southeast, in the Dawn mountains, the two divine twins, Engedoshio'a and Gedoshio'a, gods of Law and Justice, spiralled in the air in the form of two purple herons of the marshes. They viewed the spinning slopes below them, searching for any hidden crag or overhang which may hold the secret of the cave in which Zandriduin was about his evil work. They had flown about the spires of dawn for almost a week in mortal time, six days they had never ceased. Finally now, after so much exercise, even for the wings of young gods, they came to rest upon the peak of one southern prominence.

"I am so bored of this,'' said Gedoshio'a, her purple feathers sloughing away from silver skin.

"Me too, we are forever doing the boring tasks, it's been so long since we battled a demon or saved a city", Engedoshio'a plucked the last few purple feathers from his young man's beard, reorganising his translucent obsidian hair, "I just really want to fight something."

Gedoshio'a laughed heartily, nodding in agreement, "I know! Even if we find this mortal, we're to do nothing for some unknown reason," she looked around at the desolate ice-wrought mountains all about them, "How can a magical cave be so difficult to find for two gods?"

"Well, if it was easy, the old man would have come himself, no?"

"I suppose, though he needn't trouble us with the labour instead, why didn't he send some minor spirit to do the task, that foolish little scout of his, the Crown-carrier?"

"Perhaps, sister, because he is, by nature, foolish? Maybe he knew that we were the only two for the job."

Gedoshio'a raised her arms, gesturing wildly at the empty landscape all around, "Well, we've found him plenty of ice to cool his wine."

"Mountains worth of rocks to cast at troublesome mortals," added Engedoshio'a with a wry smile, "what was it he said that this mortal had done?"

"He didn't say, though I overheard our blind uncle talking about Mercury."

The fluffy-bearded god scoffed loudly, "Not that mad old fool, what can she possibly want now?"

"Well, you know how she loves to toy with the minds of mortals, her own creations being so devoid of all the fun emotions our beloved people have."

He laughed again at his sister, slapping a silver hand against his thigh, "Don't we know it, ever tried telling the god of the furnace a joke? That man is all work and no play, he can't even fake a smile, that odd looking face of his."

The wind was howling loudly at the top of the mountain, so the pair began to descend, sliding on scree and loose-packed snow, which crunched underfoot. The slopes were bathed in the pink gloaming of the setting sun, bidding farewell to her child as she sank to the far Western horizon below them. Soon, the moon, Ga, would rise from the opposite horizon, ready to take her watch over the world.

Meanwhile, suspended high above the grain of Ioga, dangling from the cosmic stalk of the firmament, A'a, Egdo, Ni and E'i, the elemental gods of Water, Ice, Air and Fire respectively, looked down upon the world of their creation, revelling in the balance they formed. To them, through the ancient mirror which she gifted them long ago, came Maria, distant goddess of elemental Mercury. Having overheard the planning of the gods of civilisation on Ioga, she formed a plan to deceive the elements, ever distrustful of humanity.

"Greetings, cousins, how fares the world of your making?" her voice hissed through the cosmic void.

A'a was first to approach the glittering mirror to speak, "Mari, what brings you back to your mirror here? We are not used to your involvement anymore, not since the scouring," she bubbled.

The others gathered closer now, their formless bodies milling about the reflective disc of moving metal.

"Infamy brings me hither," replied Mari, "Your underling once again moves against your will, Enenshio'a seeks to supplant you."

E'i flared in rage, his voice crackling like a whole forest ablaze, "That insolent bastard! Fools were we to create such a being, who's idea was it to name him the king of anything!?"

The whistling voice of Ni responded, attempting to calm the embers of E'i, "It was my idea to create him, he serves his purpose well, despite our previous issues with the lower orders. His powers keep the emotions of humanity at bay, Husband."

"What proof do you have of this, Mari, to put our trust in one like you so quickly would be poorly informed, we know how you covet our people," asked Egdo, his voice the sound of a shifting glacier.

"Mark my words, cousins, there is a plan afoot to remove your powers from you. Have your beautiful daughters watch the family of the man called Asaba'an, he is instrumental in the plan of Enenshio'a. When he begins to move, it will be to take things from you, to remove your objects of power from your holy places. Why, even now the gods of civilisation banquet and carouse, toasting your downfall! Look to the Dawn mountains, see those troublesome twins of Enenshio'a, they seek my man there now, they want to stop me from reporting these things to you, it will not do."

All four gods of the elements then flew into a rage. Egdo, Lord of Ice, sped to the mountainsides, casting great clods of rock and ice at the twins of Enenshio'a. He pelted them like a farmer pelts crows, so disproportionate was his power relative to theirs. The two herons swerved this way and that, spiralling and climbing to avoid the mountains which Egdo lobbed at them. Finally they were chased away from his domain, fleeing to the dense jungles of Dositoban, far, far to the South-West of the Riverlands. There they landed to lick their wounds and hide the shame of failure from their father.

A'a, goddess of water, went at the same time to speak to her daughter the moon, telling her to be mindful, on the lookout for the movements of Asaba'an. Likewise went Ni to speak to the sun, telling her the same. The elemental gods were on alert now, believing the evidence of Mari, spurred on by their ancient mistrust of humanity and the lower orders of gods.