The palace of Frozenlight had grown quiet.
Too quiet.
After North's departure, the court slowly emptied. Advisors left with measured bows, angels withdrew without unfurling their wings, and even the eternal frost that clung to the pillars seemed to settle, as if the palace itself were holding its breath.
Neil remained seated on the throne which is beside North's throne.
His posture was straight, dignified, unmoving, yet the tension in his hands betrayed him. The Ice Lord's throne had always been cold, but tonight it carried weight, as though every decision he had ever made pressed down on his shoulders at once.
Only after the doors closed did Elsa enter.
She did not announce herself.
She never needed to.
Her presence softened the room, not by melting the ice, but by giving it meaning. She stopped beside the throne, her gaze lingering on the empty space where North had stood earlier, calm and distant, as if already halfway beyond the world.
"North has left," she said softly.
Neil exhaled. "Yes."
A pause followed, long and heavy.
"He didn't go alone," Elsa added.
Neil's fingers tightened. "…Yuria."
Elsa nodded and moved closer, resting her hand against the armrest of the throne. "You felt it too."
"I did," Neil replied. His voice was steady, but his eyes darkened. "The Creator's mark."
Elsa looked at him sharply. "So you sensed it clearly?"
"Yes," Neil said. "Not a blessing carved in flesh, not a contract etched in soul. It's subtler than that Permission."
That word lingered in the air.
Elsa sat beside him slowly. "The Creator rarely gives permission."
"Which is what troubles me," Neil said without hesitation. "For a human to walk so close to North, to survive the pressure of his divinity without shattering, there must be a reason."
Elsa's gaze drifted toward the doors North had passed through. "Or a price."
Neil closed his eyes briefly.
"When Yuria stands near him," he continued, "the laws bend Not break, but soften Fate loosens its grip. Causality hesitates. It is as if the world itself allows her to be there."
Elsa folded her hands in her lap. "A blessing to be close to him."
"Yes," Neil agreed, then added quietly, "And a risk."
Elsa turned to him. "You're afraid of her?"
"I am wary," Neil corrected. "The Creator does nothing without intent. Blessing a human to walk beside a god-to-be is unprecedented Especially one burdened by the Frozenlight bloodline and the shadow of the Chaotic Era."
Elsa's expression softened, though concern lingered in her eyes. "North has changed since she appeared."
Neil nodded. "He listens, He pauses, He considers things beyond outcome and efficiency."
A faint smile touched Elsa's lips. "He worries."
Neil let out a slow breath. "Yes, And that frightens me more than his cold ever did."
Elsa leaned back slightly. "Because gods who worry can be hurt."
"And humans who are blessed can become keys," Neil said. "Or knives."
Silence stretched between them.
"Still," Elsa said after a moment, "when I look at her, I don't sense malice."
"Nor do I," Neil admitted. "That is what makes her dangerously special."
Elsa raised an eyebrow.
"She does not feel ambitious or maybe she does?," Neil continued. "She does not crave power,She does not seek to control North She simply… exists beside him, as if that alone is enough."
Elsa smiled faintly. "You sound relieved."
"I am," Neil said honestly. "And uneasy."
Elsa reached out, placing her hand over his clenched fingers. "Do you know what worries me most?"
Neil looked at her.
"That we don't know who she truly is," Elsa said. "A human, yes But one carrying memories that don't quite belong to this world Knowledge that surfaces at strange times Reactions that feel… practiced."
Neil's eyes sharpened. "You noticed that too."
"She hides it well," Elsa said. "Even from North."
Neil frowned. "Do you think she intends to deceive him?"
"No," Elsa replied without hesitation. "I think she's afraid."
Neil leaned back, staring up at the frost-lit ceiling. "Fear born of knowledge is more dangerous than fear born of weakness."
Elsa smiled sadly. "Yet North feels warmer around her."
That made Neil go still.
he said quietly, "I believed warmth would erode him, soften his edge, make him vulnerable."
"And now?" Elsa asked.
"…Now I think it might be what keeps him from breaking."
Elsa rested her head lightly against the throne's back. "The Creator may have blessed her so she can stand beside him, but that blessing does not mean safety."
"No," Neil agreed. "It means balance."
Another silence passed.
"If she falls," Neil said slowly, "North may fall with her."
"And if she rises?" Elsa countered.
Neil's lips curved faintly.
"Then perhaps he will rise as something… better."
Elsa closed her eyes. "I choose to trust that."
Neil looked at her, then nodded once. "So do I."
Outside, the frozen winds of Frozenlight shifted, carrying whispers southward, toward the Land of Solidity, where gods watched, angels waited, and a blessed mystery walked beside a cold young god who had finally learned to slow his steps.
Somewhere beyond sight, the Creator remained silent.
And silence, as always, was the most dangerous answer of all.
____________________
The Land of Solidity lay in the South.
Not metaphorically Not poetically Literally south, where the world grew heavier the farther one traveled, where mountains did not rise to touch the sky but pressed downward instead, as if daring existence itself to collapse beneath their weight.
North stood before the portal in silence.
It was an ancient structure, circular, forged from layered worldstone, its surface etched with prayers so old that even the words had grown tired. The portal did not glow it did not hum it simply existed, stubborn and immovable, much like the land it led to.
Yuria poked it.
Nothing happened.
"…Wow," she muttered. "This thing has the personality of a brick."
"It's a southern gate," North replied calmly. "Dramatic displays are considered inefficient."
"Of course they are."
She dusted her hands and leaned back. "So this portal connects directly to Solidity?"
"Yes , A stabilized axis No spatial distortion, no time lag, no dramatic arrival."
Yuria pouted. "That's disapponting ."
"You'll get pressure," North said. "A lot of it."
"Ah. Emotional or physical?"
"Yes."
She laughed and stepped closer to him, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "Before we go, I have to ask."
North activated the portal. The worldstone rings shifted, grinding softly as reality folded inward.
"About Raka and Ceder," Yuria continued quickly. "You sensed it, didn't you?"
The portal stabilized, forming a flat, mirror-like surface of gray light.
North answered anyway, "Her affection is… intense."
"INTENSE?" Yuria snorted.
"That woman looks at him like he's the last tree in a burning world."
"She is the Goddess of Nature," North said. "Scarcity thinking is built into her divinity."
Yuria clasped her hands dramatically. "Meanwhile, Raka's corruption trio lust, sloth, and greed are probably screaming like drunk gamblers in his head."
North stepped into the portal.
Yuria followed, still talking.
"I mean, imagine it, Lust going, 'TAKE HER.' Greed going, 'CLAIM HER.' Sloth going, 'Lie down and let it happen.' And Raka just—"
She made a strained face.
"—standing there, absolutely frozen, thinking about absolutely nothing inappropriate while his soul is on fire."
North's lips twitched.
Barely.
"That explains his recent stiffness," he said.
Yuria burst out laughing as the portal closed behind them.
The transition was instant.
No wind.
No light.
No drama.
Just weight.
The moment they emerged on the other side, gravity asserted itself like an offended landlord. The air was dense, every breath pressing against the lungs, every step demanding confirmation of intent.
Yuria stumbled forward. "Oh!! Oh wow!! This place hates knees."
North stood firm, unmoved. Ice cracked faintly beneath his boots, instinctively reinforcing the ground.
Ahead of them stretched the southern expanse of Solidity mountain-cities embedded into stone, massive arches carved through cliffs, roads layered atop roads like sedimentary history. Everything was gray, brown, or muted gold, yet nothing looked weak.
This was not a land that reached upward.
It endured.
Yuria straightened slowly. "Okay… I get it now. This place doesn't pray for miracles."
"No," North said. "It prepares for burdens."
She glanced sideways at him. "You really did delay your ascension for this."
"Yes."
"And for Raka."
"Yes."
"And maybe," she added softly, "because you don't like the idea of becoming untouchable."
North didn't answer immediately.
Then, quietly, "A god who cannot be reached should not rule anything."
Yuria smiled.
They began walking down the southern road, stone crunching beneath their feet.
After a few steps, Yuria spoke again, tone lighter. "By the way, you know Raka is worrying about you nonstop, right?"
"I know."
"And Ceder?"
"Maybe?"
"She's worrying too, In her own way. Which is… terrifying."
North paused.
Far away, beyond distance and logic, he sensed it.
A vast, gentle, overwhelming affection wrapped tightly around a single soul, layered with possessiveness so pure it almost felt holy.
"…I can feel it," he said.
Yuria nodded solemnly. "Yeah. That's not love. That's a natural disaster with feelings."
North resumed walking. "Raka will survive."
"You're confident."
"He always does," North replied. "Somehow."
Yuria grinned. "Guess we'll see if Solidity survives us first."
Together, they continued south, toward stone, secrets, and a goddess who carried the weight of the world and soon, perhaps, its salvation.