White Abyss looked at the spear lying on the ground near the old woman. It was of simple design, the wooden shaft polished by countless years of use, the sharp blade carved from glistening flint.
She remained silent for a moment.
"I welcome War."
The old woman smiled faintly.
Turning back to the fire, she shrugged.
"Kill you? No. It's not time for that yet."
The great and terrible War God — the goddess of life, warfare, progress, craft, intellect, and humans — leaned closer to the fire.
"I just happened to be passing by. Think nothing of it."
White Abyss studied her with an indifferent expression. Behind her, at a distance, her soldiers and priests were trembling in fear, startled by the cruel death of their senior. Paying them no attention, the beautiful incarnation of fire took a step forward and sat across from War, with only the dancing flames separating them.
The goddess spared her a curious glance. She seemed to consider something for a moment, then asked:
