“AAaa! What the fuck?!” Gareth screamed and sat up in a panic. His hands frantically roamed each part of his body that he'd felt explode, then fell back in relief when he realised that he was once more...in one piece. After the chaotic, mind-bending brain infusion escapade, he had gained consciousness just long enough to feel his body deform and explode. Ian and the Doctor had, of course, used bombs to explode him in the past, but feeling your own body rebel against itself was a haunting experience that he never wanted to feel again. He mentally dumped it into the 'I'm not gonna look at that right now' pile and refocused on the present.

  “WELCOME, KAIRO-”

  “What the fuck?! Raaa!" Gareth screamed and ducked as an unexpected booming voice thundered over him.

  He looked up and froze in shock as his eyes locked with a gigantic being straight out of a Dark Souls game. He was not in Volun anymore.

  He lay in a very comfortable, queen-sized bed. Thick, comfortingly heavy blankets draped across his boxered lower half.

  The bed had no base, instead resting quite confidently in front nine occupied, and one empty throne. Carved from white marble accented by veins of gold and ebony, intricately sculpted into the likenesses of frothing ocean waves…it didn't look very comfortable to walk on, but it certainly looked cool.

  He lay in the centre of a massive circular amphitheatre, but instead of where the seats in the amphitheatre would be, ten humongous thrones sat surrounding his little bed. Each impressive throne was occupied by an equally large, at least 40 ft tall giant/giantess, each seeming more uniquely beautiful than the last. The last throne, carved from a simple grey granite, sat empty for some reason.

  “Hrm-hm-hm” the voice that had spoken first cleared its throat, “WELCOME, KAIRO-”

  “Oh please Allfather, let the boy find his bearings before you start screaming demands.” A baritone voice with a heavy Greek accent cut in before the old warrior on the throne to Gareth’s right could get his speech going.

  “HOW DARE YOU INTERRUPT-”

  “WE WELCOME KAIROSANIEL TO THE DREAM-” a different voice tried before also being cut off. Gareth couldn't track where all the voices were coming from.

  A bolt of brightly glowing white mana flashed across the room, splashing harmlessly over a greenish/reddish transparent shield.

  “Ladies and gentlemen perhaps we should-” a calm voice tried to interject, but was overpowered by the second screamer bellowing again, “HOW DARE YOU ATTACK THE GREAT QUETZALCOATL?!”

  A similar bolt of magic was thrown back at the eye-patched man, which was also easily blocked by a blackish gold translucent shield.

  “WE AGREED THAT I WOULD DO THE INTRODUCTION, SERPENT!” Odin yelled, his aged face red with rage, his grey beard sparking with bolts of lightning. His fierce obsidian black eye-patch glowed with a golden coin lighting its centre, while his grey eye crackled with blotches of black lightning. In his right hand he wielded a gigantic golden hafted spear, taller even than the 50 ft throne, and carved more intricately than Gareth's eyes could ever hope to follow. Resting on his wide, black-feather cloaked shoulders sat two jade ravens, squawking in anger and outrage with their master. The cacophonous cawing of the crystalline crows caused even more chaos to the shouting assembly.

  The words of these men might have been laughable in their childishness, yet the hostility - the raw strength of their attacks shaking the air - filled Gareth with terror. A battle-scarred veteran god, wielding a giant golden spear that seemed to slice reality with each casual twitch, was throwing a tantrum like a first-world country three-year-old who wasn't allowed to have his sweets. He was shouting at a similarly large South American guy, wielding a more tribal-looking spear with a wooden haft and vicious stone tip.

  “What the fuck is going on?” Gareth quietly whispered to himself as he saw giants fight like children. They traded bolts of pure mana back and forth, while some of the other people tried to interject and calm down the situation.

  “ENOUGH!” a man on the opposite side of Odin bellowed making the world around Gareth flicker, rumble, and shake.

  Everything went dead silent as the man adjusted his tie- no he adjusted his bowtie, wait- he actually adjusted a scarf.

  Wait, what the fuck is going on!? - Gareth thought in panic as the man who had bellowed kept shifting his appearance, what he wore, her jewellery, the very shape of her body. One moment she was an old woman, the next she was a mischievous little boy, then a cute Chow dog.

  When it spoke, its voice kept changing and fluctuating with his appearance, “Need I remind the assemblage that we are all here for Kairosaniel? Keep acting paidariódis, and I will collapse this dreamscape. We will lose our chance to speak to him for quite some time.”

  The old lady glared around at what Gareth could only assume was a messed-up pantheon.

  No one looked happy at the ant-meets-boot approach, but they all remained silent. After a few seconds of silent glaring as the old hag enforced her threat, she shifted into a beautiful young woman and turned to Gareth, “Speak, my friend.”

  She smiled kindly and waved for him to speak.

  “What is happening? And why do you keep calling me Kairosaniel?” Gareth asked, hoping he might actually get an answer this time.

  He looked around at the other figures on their thrones, beyond which was a land of darkness and shadow obscuring the scope of this windless chamber.

  “I am Morpheus, god of dreams, sleep, and shifting forms. I have brought you to this dreamscape, since the gods of your bloodlines sought to introduce themselves. As for us calling you Kairosaniel…you might be done with your old world, but it is not yet done with you.” She finished, shifting into a sly black cat lounging on the suddenly too-large thrown.

  It clicked into place all at once.

  Each of these people represented one of his bloodlines. Odin was his blood, Morpheus his skin, and Quetzalcoatl his liver and kidneys. Yet there were so many that Gareth couldn't take all of them in at once.

  To the left of Morpheus sat a completely nude man, his body a shining obsidian through which Gareth could see stars of all colours in shifting, mesmerising constellations. Atlas had a strict set to his stern face, and bulging muscles that screamed at enormous strength. When he spoke, he did not scream, yet his voice rumbled like an avalanche regardless, “I AM ATLAS.”

  He turned his obscenely ripped neck to the man on Morpheus’ other side, to a muscular man with golden skin, the head of a platinum-furred baboon, massive gleaming silver canines only slightly concealed by his grinning furred lips. Impossible eyes, like two shifting moons shining pure silver light, spoke of his already apparent divinity. He wore elegant silver necklaces that draped over a rich blue satin tunic, with silver threading depicting ancient hieroglyphs.

  When he saw Gareth looking at him, the quite scary grin became even wider, and Gareth wondered what threat he posed, “May Ra shine fortune upon thee, Kairosaniel. I am Thoth, the newest addition to your inner pantheon.”

  His baboon head might have hinted at animalistic violence, but the rest of him, including his voice, spoke with a slow and ponderous wisdom that promised safety. It didn't change the fact that those gigantic canines were longer and thicker than his fucking legs!

  Gareth, standing on his bed at this point because when gods spoke you didn't just sit there, covered in your blankies. He bowed deeply, as Guanji had taught him, yet chose to say nothing until he had looked at everyone else. He had wrapped the thick blanket around himself to preserve his modesty.

  On Atlas’ other side sat a very tanned man with tattooed scales peeking through the gaps of his vivid ruby red tunic. On his bare arms he wore thick leather bracers, and on his feet were open-toed leather sandals accented by subtle brass buckles. He had long, black dreadlocked hair - with brightly coloured feathers sticking through the gaps and wreathing his head like a crown. His eyes were a piercing predatory red with vibrant green flecks and had a snake’s slitted like pupil. His cheekbones were high and slanted sharply, giving him a hawkish appearance. His light chocolate skin, along with his feathered attire, screamed Aztec heritage.

  “QUETZALCOATL GREETS KAIROSANIEL. WE HAVE PROJECTED OURSELVES-”

  “THERE HE GOES, TRYING TO TAKE OVER THE CONVERSATION, AGAIN! IF IT WERE IN MY POWER, HE WOULD BE BANISHED FROM THIS-” Odin once again roared in outrage and the two devolved back into petty arguments until Morpheus once again called order.

  Gareth awkwardly made eye contact with a young-looking man next to Odin while the others bickered. He smiled mirthfully, “Don't worry, tey’r not always like tis. I am Baldr, and I will be the strength of your bones.”

  Feeling a strange kinship Gareth smiled back, “Not your customary greeting but also not wrong, I guess. Can you please tell me what is happening and how this is possible? I mean, no one told me I'd be able to talk to my bloodlines. Have I finally gone insane?”

  Baldr looked to be in his early twenties. A smooth, clean-shaven face lent him youthful features, at contrast with his too-old eyes - two features that Gareth could immediately see in himself. Long blond hair draped over his shirtless, Olympic gymnast shoulders. Intense blue eyes smiled sadly at Gareth, “We are so incredibly sorry, Gareth, for the pain you have suffered in the last few years.”

  Tears sparkled in his stunning sapphire eyes as the ancient god struggled to keep his smile intact, his lips slightly trembling, “When you were brought to tis world, we saw an opportunity to infuse you wit our divine potential and establish a presence on tis higher realm. Tis world is not our own, it is beyond our domains, and we are terefore unable to exist in it outside of your body. We have raged, we have pleaded to the gods of Yggdrasil...to help you." a bitterness twisted his lips, turning his eyes dark, spiteful, "But we were small to tem, almost noting, and our pleas went unanswered for years. Only until tey temselves were in trouble did tey interfere and deign make a pact wit us.” he scowled further and hocked a gob of radiant golden spit onto the oceanic floor.

  The aggression in his actions seemed antithesis to his beauty, yet Gareth was reminded that Baldr was a Viking god. A warrior. His golden hair would sparkle lustrously as he cut bitches down!

  Gareth’s world was rocked. He took a knee on the soft sponge mattress so as not to collapse.

  They've been in my head this entire time? More than that, the gods of Yggdrasil knew what Ian was doing to him and had done nothing?

  A slow rage built in Gareth. The darkness beyond the god’s thrones starting to flash with white cracks of lightning. A low rumble built into a storm of thunder that deafened the gods.

  “They knew what was happening to me…and did fucking nothing!?” Lightning cracked! The sound of a million glass panes shattering followed it, threatening to tear the Dreamscape apart.

  He shook with rage, tears pricked at his eyes, his fists clenched ineffectually, powerlessly.

  He looked up from where he had knelt, and saw his rage reflected in every single other eye he met. In unison they stood and intoned in grave voices.

  “PROMISE SEEN, PROMISE REALISED. POTENTIAL GAINED, YET SHACKLED BY TORMENT!

  WE SEE YOU, KAIROSANIEL! WE TAKE YOU UNDER OUR WING!

  ACCEPT THIS NAME, FORGED FROM THE DISPARATE PARTS OF OUR PANTHEONS, AND STEP INTO THE EMBRACE OF YOUR ANCESTORS: KAIROSANIEL, WE WELCOME YOU!”

  Ten figures rose from their thrones and bowed deeply at the waist. A heavy silence settled, reverential.

  When they rose, some clapped, some grinned, and a certain scaly serpent roared, spewing green flames into the sky.

  This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Only once Gareth humbly nodded did they all resume their seated positions.

  The surrounding lightning settled slowly with his calming emotions. A blue flash off to his right, followed by the quiet ping of a notification, told him that the System was being fucky but the notification didn't pop up.

  “I thank you, my ancestors, for your kind welcome. Though I must ask, what have I done to deserve the honour of this new name?” Gareth was loathe to be given something for free, especially names. The Volun empire had weird rules relating to names and changes to names, yet they always indicated a change in power or prestige. Names were sacred, and it tickled Gareth's trained paranoia to be given a new name. Even as atheistic as Gareth had been back on Terra, he'd still watched clips of godly machinations, and they rarely ended well for whatever mortal they were fucking with.

  “It will sound somewhat bizarre, but you were chosen as a product of chance, of fate. Each of our pantheons were told by their respective seers and oracles that an opportunity to strengthen ourselves would arrive. We had no idea how, when, or in which shape this opportunity would appear. When we felt a portal open to a higher plane in the city of Ekuruleni, it became a race to see who could ‘hop aboard’ so to speak. We..." Morpheus said as he shifted from a wise old man to an cyclist in a skintight outfit, "are the victors.”

  A red-skinned, bulky man with a massive uncle belly and flaming black moustache, spoke up with a heavy Indian accent. He was shirtless, yet wore sparkling gold trousers, which somehow emitted small rainbows of light that streaked through the air like little fireworks. Four strongly muscled arms each held a different item: His top left held a wooden rosary that looked to be smouldering slightly, emitting cracks of fire that popped out little puffs of fragrant incense. His bottom left held a fiery golden sphere that glowed with the brilliance of the sun. His top-right arm held an intricately painted white fan, which he used to cool himself. His final bottom-right arm held a short, double tipped golden spear, with little solar flares flouncing from its feathered blades. His flowing golden brown hair seemed to wave in the air, and flames danced in his gold-fire eyes. All this to say that he was pretty hard to look at, what with all the shining and gold.

  "I am Agni, your first bloodline. You have experienced great dukkha (suffering) in the past, but it has taught you Raja Yoga: Inner peace through meditation. Congratulations on this difficult step towards enlightenment." Agni held his muscular four red arms steady as he bowed forward. His thick black shoulder-length hair swayed forward with his nod. His eyes, the colour of a red setting sun with a stunning white pupil, highlighted by a black sclera so dark it seemed to absorb all light, pierced into Gareth and told of a fiery temper, tempered by a worldly wisdom.

  Gareth folded his hands in front of him and bowed slightly, thankful for the compliment, but disagreeing in principle. He was nowhere close to enlightenment. He was barely keeping himself together by throwing himself into training, using it as a distraction from the fact that he was avoiding the past.

  He chose to change the subject, “So, you were all trapped right along with me?”

  Gareth asked, unsure where to go from here.

  “Da, and nyet...” a new voice spoke from next to Baldr: a goddess of unparalleled beauty.

  She wore a slim tunic, tightly overlapping combat trousers made from some sort of green, blue, and white seaweed that seemed to sparkle with wetness. Her hair was a rich, vibrant green accented by small little blue-white anemones, waving their highly venemous feelers around. Her eyes were the most startling of all because unlike the brightness he expected, there were only pools of inky deep-sea pitch.

  Though, when she smiled that stunningly sweet smile, her intimidating eyes were made only slightly less unnerving, “Ve are not uh…how you say…really ghere. Vhat you see before you are just…small part of our divinity: a promise of potential. Only by cultivating vill our true potential be unlocked. Zhat is all to say zhat ve vere all in states of semi-animation until you broke trough zhe first zhreshold. Ve could vatch, ve could learn, but ve vere unable to speak...or act.”

  Her deep pools of black seemed to sparkle with sadness, her wrinkle-free brow scrunched in remorse, and it was all Gareth could do not to try and comfort her. She was just that pretty.

  “I'm sorry you had to experience Ian with me, my lady.” Gareth bowed to the goddess, but unlike his bow to Agni, this one was heartfelt. He was embarrassed that she'd seen him in that state.

  She seemed to read his mind because she suddenly frowned in reprimand, "Nyet, do not apologise for being at zhe mercy of a greater foe. Only apologize if you gave up." her capricious expression suddenly cleared, and she smiled at him knowingly, "Since you haf been working ghard in zhe training, take pride in correcting zhat imbalance." she winked, and Gareth felt the conversation end.

  “I guess my final question is: how are you all here - and where is ‘here’?”

  “That would be due to the ability my mistress and I granted to you: [Dreamscape].” Morpheus spoke up, looking like an excited eight-year-old boy, holding up his hand as if to get the teacher's attention.

  When Gareth turned to face him, Morpheus once more changed in a blink. A wizened old Greek man in a sparkling black toga gestured with a walking stick in hand, “As I said before: I am the god of sleep, and a few things besides. But due to your low tier and our weakened states, we can only appear to you in dreams. Normally, this meeting would be much shorter because time passes quicker in the waking world. But due to the…chaotic nature of your breakthrough, we can take our time.

  “You all have to acknowledge that this is a bit much. I'm still not 100% sure I haven't gone insane and am imagining all...this.” he gestured at the strange world of shifting darkness, storm clouds, and lightning, the strange oceanic floor, and the giant thrones occupied by equally strange gods. “So, let's say this is all real. That the gods from my world are now somehow in my head-”

  “Body.” Baldr corrected quietly.

  “Sorry…body. And that you're somehow going to get more powerful as I get powerful. What happens next? Do I go on some holy crusade and convert all of Yggdrasil to your religion? Because I never signed up for that. I never signed up for any of this. Nothing in my life has ever been in my control - been my choice!” He hadn't realised he was shouting. He hadn't realised impotent tears were running down his face.

  “Kairosaniel…Gareth,” Odin finally spoke up again, and for once he wasn't screaming. His aged face spoke of a grim resolve, his stormy grey eye set in a glare directed at Gareth, “It is true that you did not choose to come to this world. You did not choose who your father was, and you did not choose your upbringing. Ian was beyond your control, and the Doctor performed experiments on you without your consent. But in life...everything is a choice. When your father shot you in the back - you chose to keep on fighting. When you were shackled with impossible debt - you did not give up and kill yourself, you achieved the near impossible and nearly bought your freedom. And when Ian spent years tormenting you - it was your choice to maintain your sanity. Being alive means change; that is a fact. But your choices are how you adapt to those changes, and to be perfectly frank my-boy…we are impressed.”

  Thoth spoke up next, his voice kind and soft, “Through everything that has happened, and even though you had every right to cast it away, we saw a spark of goodness in your heart. You have grown jaded, sure. And given half a chance you would flee all the responsibility Margrave has placed upon you. But you have been kind, observant, diligent, and respected those that took you in. You did not lash out or try to 'burn the world' as so many heroes in the past have done. You have shown wisdom.”

  “THE PATH BEFORE YOU IS CHALLENGING. YOU WILL FACE NEAR-INSURMOUNTABLE OBSTACLES THAT WOULD BRING ORDINARY PEOPLE TO THEIR KNEES. BUT YOU WILL NOT FACE THESE CHALLENGES ALONE.” Atlas’s stern voice rumbled through the cavernous chamber, and when Gareth looked into his eyes, he the top half of his eyes were a brilliant sky blue, while the lower half of his eyes were an earthy amber brown. He realised that Atlas was not looking at him directly, but gazing beyond, and into the future.

  To say he was emotionally overwhelmed would be an understatement, yet in some ways, he felt at peace.

  Guanji, Ellisandra, Oliver, Margrave and Ellismera had shown him that people still had the capacity for Good. For doing the right thing even if it was inconvenient. Maybe he had been too cloistered the last 6 months? He hadn't met anyone outside of his little circle besides Connor and it was high time he changed that.

  “Thank you, Odin, Atlas.” Gareth said bowing deeply to both.

  “I think that brings us to the final matter of discussion for this gathering.” Morpheus said and clapped his hands as a subtle way to urge the meeting on.

  “Da, zhe name.” Moryana intoned.

  Gareth frowned and recalled that they had called him something different for some reason.

  The last god, who hadn't said anything as of yet, spoke with a strong European accent, “The world was not always so…’advanced’, on Terra. There was a time when names held meaning. In the godly community names have weight. It is the name our priests use when praying to us, it is the name by which we bless holy relics, and it is the name that will tie your deeds together, forming your legacy. It is customary for a new god, when inducted into the community, to be granted a new name, chosen by the gods of their pantheon.”

  Vahagn, as that was the only god from his stat sheet that he hadn't been introduced to, had undulating strands of flame for hair, waving in an unseen breeze. He was, much like many of the other gods present, shirtless. He had a short-trimmed black beard that seemed to be dripping water onto his brown leather loin cloth. A fierce frown cracked his face, making Gareth feel like he'd done something wrong. Wrapped around his muscular body was a green spotted blue snake, thicker around than Gareth's waist, seemingly chilling and observing the world through half-lidded eyes.

  Morpheus, their voices and appearance changing constantly between one blink and the next, spoke up next, “Normally, there is a whole ceremony, many sacrifices, lots of food and months of revelry. But unfortunately our time in the dreamscape runs short. It would also needlessly draw the attention of enemies on this world. We will therefore postpone the naming ceremony until you reach tier 3. But please be aware that even in your darkest moments, we are still with you. You are our only foothold in this world. We therefore have a vested interest in your growth and happiness.” Morpheus was obviously trying to appeal to Gareth's pragmatism, and it was working.

  “I…” Gareth didn't know how he should feel about that. On the one hand, he had the support of literal gods. They could likely give him advice and powers others could only dream of. On the other hand, he had just another group of people expecting things from him, watching him, using him for their own gain.

  “Dear gods of the Pantheon, I thank you for this opportunity. It warms my heart to know I was not alone during my captivity. But I am unsure whether I can provide you the foothold you seem to want. I am not here to start my own pantheon on Yggdrasil. I don't want to start a holy war - even though it infuriates me to know the gods could have rescued me and chose to do nothing.” he heard a rumbling of agreement from the general crowd, but Odin, Quetzalcoatl and Atlas did not look happy with his previous words.

  “THEN WHAT ARE YOU TO ACCOMPLISH IN THE FUTURE? THE TIDES OF CHANGE ARE DRAWN TO THOSE WITH POWER, AND AN IMMORTAL WILL BECOME POWERFUL. WITHOUT A HEADING, A COURSE, A GOAL, THE TIDES OF FATE WILL CONSUME YOU.” Odin rumbled with all the power of an avalanche.

  “I wish I could tell you, Allfather. But at the moment I am too weak to dictate my fate regardless. The people around me are so much stronger that it's the difference between Heaven and Earth.” Gareth employed a saying he had heard often enough since coming to Yggdrasil.

  The other gods looked to each other, communicating in subtle ways that were beyond him.

  “DO YOU REMEMBER THE GREAT HERACLES?” Atlas asked.

  “Beowulf?” asked Odin.

  “Arjuna?” asked Vahagn.

  Gareth shook his head for each.

  “They vere our gheroes of old, tasked vith protecting our people…sent on gheroic quests to enact our vill.” Moryana bargained.

  “WE CAN OFFER YOU THE SAME. A DIRECTION…A DESTINATION.”

  -

  Gareth awoke to a world changed. He still lay on the cold hard stone of the forge temple. He looked up to see the same soot-stained wood beams of the temple roof, the same little flecks of fire flitting through the air. But the world felt...more.

  He could smell scents and recognise them for what they were immediately: coal, ash, oxidised iron, tainted quench-water. He heard sounds tens of yards away as if they were right next to him, and could faintly see the swirls of mana around each object, like an aura of colour unique to each thing. He could feel the wind caress his skin and noticed each twitch of his hair follicles. It was supposed to be overwhelming, yet somehow his brain could easily keep track of it.

  “You awake at last, child of my kin.”

  Between one blink and the next, he appeared. A god. A dragon.

  Clad in ruby red scales rimmed by the purest silver, ingrained with runes of the unknowably arcane, each scale a work of art. Eyes like gleaming sugilite, that threatened immense power, magic, mischief.

  Wicked ivory fangs peaked past dextrous lizard lips when he grinned, a promise of enforced superiority: king of dragons, patriarch of fire, Aevur.

  “I…um…Thank you.” Gareth looked at him stupidly, very much still half asleep, terrified out of his mind.

  Aevur barely suppressed a sigh, “You have been asleep for 5 months, much has changed.”

  Gareth looked at the glowing golden notification in the corner of his vision:

  Congratulations!

  You have successfully awakened the brain of Thoth bloodline!

  You have awoken one Trait:

  Falcon sight: Increased vision and increased perception in relation to movement speed. Upper limit: +45%.

  You have awoken one Ability:

  Sense hostility: At will, call upon the wisdom of Thoth to perceive the hostility of those who gaze upon you.

  Awakening aggregate bloodline…pending…pending…Error!

  Interference detected!

  System overridden!

  Destruction authority invoked.

  Immortal verified by administration!

  We see you, brother! We come!

  Congratulations!

  You have awoken the Immortalis Bloodline.

  Trait:

  Ability: ???

  Spells: ???

  Congratulations!

  For having reached Tier 1, each aspect of your body has been improved by + 10%.

  For having achieved the majority of your infusions outside of a System Temple, each aspect of your body has been improved by an additional + 20%.

  For having done all of your infusions under the supervision of a guiding entity, each aspect of your body has been improved an additional + 40%.

  Total improvement in base ability functionality: + 70%.

  For the first time Gareth felt his [sense hostility] activate as the god Aevur looked at him crossly, a body-vibrating growl rumbled through the forge. All the hairs on his body stood on end as Gareth felt a pit form in his stomach. His eyes were instinctively drawn to the fierce purple gaze of the god as the wisdom as Thoth showed him the source of his discomfort.

  He was a god, he was not accustomed to being ignored, especially so by a young pup.

  “My greatest apologies, my liege, this one is still confused after waking up. I beg your forgiveness.” He painfully got onto his knees and kowtowed.

  If there was one thing Gareth had learned over the past few months, it was that the gods of Yggdrasil were just as fickle as ancient Terran gods. They cursed first and asked questions later, so he erred on the side of caution as he rather showed to much respect, rather than too little.

  For many minutes Aevur forced Gareth to kowtow in the now-overheated forge.

  “Arise, O child of my kin.” He started again.