2. Hungry Thoughts

The wolf Darus, God of Stone, inspected the fractured boulder and concluded he was going insane. He turned back to his siblings to tell them.

“I can’t explain it,” he said. “I would need to charge myself, collecting energy for many days, before I’d be able to destroy a boulder of this size. You sure, Feria? None of our animals have magic themselves?”

A pink fox elegantly hopped onto the stones. “None. They lack the intelligence for it too.”

The godchildren had just visited the Garden of Stone Dinosaurs. A large area with giant dinosaur statues that had been there for thousands of years, ever since they went extinct. Those dinosaurs were covered in lava rock and always looked as if they might come alive any second.

Not anymore, that was. The Smasher had visited there too and destroyed all those magnificent statues. Which seemed odd to Darus, as the Smasher attacks had been very focused so far, only targeting living creatures for food.

The godchildren walked on. They all shivered, but the cold was the least of their problems. This area felt devoid of life. Near their Throne of Tomorrow, you could look anywhere and see creatures. In fact, they had to regularly deal with insect plagues now.

Around here? Any sign of movement was met with cheers. They often spotted Gosti, tiny ghost-like creatures with large eyes that hung from tree branches, but not much else. They took great care protecting those little pre-monkeys, because they were the smartest life they had so far.

In fact, they’d let them weigh in on the decision to remove the dinosaurs back then—a mistake, such has been proven. The ghosts themselves, however, were uninterested and shied away when gods approached.

Bella had refused to come with them. She had been disconnected from life force several times in the past and still felt weak because of it. She went wherever animals and plants went in abundance, and it was not here.

“This is what you get,” Ardex said, grumpy. “By allowing carnivores to do as they please.”

It had been long ago, dear reader, that they decided to stop working against meat-eaters. To allow animals complete freedom to live, but also to take what they needed. At first, things seemed fine. But ever since then, they’d been fighting to keep the balance anyway. It had taken them a while to find the mysterious Fleshfeasters because Ardex actively hid and removed them. Which made Feria wary …

“Out with it. Communicate. And please, be honest with us,” Feria said sternly. “You too, Ardex. You especially. Have any of you secretly seen or helped these Saltstone Smashers?”

Ardex grunted.

“Oh come on,” said Darus. “We know better now.”

“Do we?”

Feria tapped against the stones. Even in their broken form, they were too heavy to move. But out there, somewhere, a creature lumbered that easily ripped these apart. And it had already made several species go extinct.

“Too often it seems we know nothing,” said Feria in frustration.

“Well, say, we’re not that—wait, is this about the foxes?” asked Darus.

“No. Yes. A bit.” Feria studied the surroundings. “I discovered that Giant Foxes had evolved on their own in this area. Majestic creatures. Beautiful! But now I haven’t seen a single one in months. And most animals can only really survive at the place where they started.”

“We all have our favorite animals,” said Ardex. “I like tigers, who would have guessed? But we can’t let it cloud our judgment. Over and over, we interfere with nature … and we only make it worse. Some way, somehow, an animal will figure out how to defeat the Smashers. They have to. It’s their survival instinct.”

“And what if they don’t? Then all life dies. Then we die.” Feria gave Ardex a look of disgust. “Of course, the God of Death would not mind.”

Ardex breathed fire. “How dare you—”

Darus stepped between them. “Stop that. If we don’t act in unity ourselves, how can we expect our animals to do so?”

Darus had not forgotten his time as a statue. He’d touched the legendary Marker Stones for too long, which had sapped all his energy and disconnected him from Enyrgias: the magical creatures that make everything move. Or, rather, that show where energy is and what it’s doing at all times.

He’d spent years as a frozen god. As if made of stone, not able to move, or think, or feel, until his family finally found him and saved him. He would never forget how long it took them to do so. They were too busy enjoying the new powerhouse bacteria they made and having fun without him. They also missed their one chance to speak to Father again.

Despite Darus loving stone, being one himself was a fate worse than death, he’d often remark. You still lived, but were unable to change anything. Or did that mean he had actually died for a while?

Since then, he had taken fewer risks and barely left his family out of his sight.

Feria suddenly cried out and leapt from the stones. She dove into the frozen river. Her impact easily broke the thin layer of ice.

Her siblings followed her dark silhouette under water, until she resurfaced holding a ball of fur. A Giant Fox, who looked more like a dying shrimp.

Feria held him close. Her warmth transferred to him and seemed to charge him like a battery; like a Marker Stone. His incredibly long whiskers unfroze and his fur turned a richer shade of purple.

He opened his eyes. Curious, glistening, keen eyes. They studied Feria’s face until they recognized her, then the fox seemed satisfied.

Feria carried him back to the nearest throne, which was her own: The Tree of Life. She took the scruff of his neck between her teeth, and all that time he didn’t stir, not even a little, which made her worry about his chance of survival.

Once inside, he suddenly came to life. He climbed around her throne and studied every single part of it. The leaves, the wood grain, the small pockets of magic. The tree harbored thousands of species and gave them all safe homes, far above the ground and always surrounded by blossoming plants.

“Fascinating,” he mumbled. “Just fascinating.”

“Who are you?”

“I am Alix. You are Feria.”

“What happened to you? Your family?”

“Do you have any food?”

Feria glared at his behavior. Still she gathered a pile of large insects for him.

He gulped it down with one bite. “Perhaps you have, erm, much more food than that?”

She shook her head. “You don’t need it. You’d upset the balance.”

“Yes I do.”

“No you don’t. Act this offensively once more and I will throw you back into—”

He cried desperately. “I really need food!”

“That’s it—”

Alix’ body fell limp. He careened out of the tree at a dangerous height, making no attempt to save himself.

Darus sprung into action to prevent it. He prodded and nudged Alix, trying to prove this was an act—but it wasn’t.

Curious, Feria gathered much more food for him. She emptied her personal storage, which held ten times what a fox would need.

Only then Alix started talking.

He pointed at a Megarioth outside. These giant ground-dwelling sloths were everywhere now. Their bulbous arms held massive claws and their tail was so thick and heavy that they created new dirt trails wherever they went. You knew they were near when trees shook and dropped leaves like seasons were changing.

They had no enemies, not even amongst the tigers or lions.

“He’s in trouble,” Alix said. “I’ve studied the Smasher for a while now. Its patterns. Its movement. It’ll kill him before the sun has risen.”

Darus and Feria stared at the massive creature. They frowned, imagining how on earth it could be in danger.

Then the Megarioth cried out and stomped something below him.

Darus thought, just for the briefest moment, that he saw a flicker of light and a black silhouette dance back into the night.

The gods jumped from the Tree and chased it.