''Are you hurt?'' she asks with genuine concern in her voice. Blue light washes over the side of her pale purple face leaving the rest in shadows.

''You know this thing can't kill me, what were you thinking.'' With considerable effort, I keep my voice even.

''Forgive me, Maker.'' She is always formal. I would prefer my creations to call me by name but that doesn't sound respectful enough to their minds.

Kali looks to the side and I think I saw something on her face in the dull crystal light. Her worry for me is completely irrational, she knows full well this beast has no chance of seriously hurting me whereas she is another matter.

We are in a cave made of sludge. The pale blue light of her crystal is easily swallowed by darkness making this place seem an endless void. Her pure white hair which usually shines like silk now has a red tint that seems black in the dim light.

''Can you cut through?'' I ask.

''I tried but it keeps reforming.''

Suddenly we are thrown to the side as the entire chamber of guts rolls to one side.

''It is dead,'' I say while covered in whatever this vile matter is.

''My kindred never fail.''

''Don't be modest, that neck wound you gave it made it bleed out, we should have simply moved away and waited for the thing to die.''

Within a short span of time, its blood turns to glass and its interior solidifies. She cuts and punches through the now glass-like substance all the while insisting that she should do this tedious work. Shards of glass are randomly flying in all directions from her terror of punches and slashes. Were she born male in some now long-gone human empire I have no doubt she would reach the pinnacle, becoming emperor on the merit of her wits alone. This is why her irrational behavior in following me inside the beast's mouth baffles the mind.

Humans always had a weakness for strength. Worshiping long-dead conquerors—butchers of their own kind—and easily led astray. Their end is well deserved.

Kali's efforts finally bore fruit and light is pouring in through a small hole, fracturing and spilling all around us. Soon we are out in the beautifully fresh air and I grab her hand raising it towards the sky. Many of my creations, her kindred, are around us with sentient ones capable of speech screaming her name, while the rest roar and screech with approval.

I turn to her, placing my hand on her shoulder. ''Well done.'' She can barely hear me from the cacophony. Smile dances across my face. Kali seems imperceptibly uncomfortable. Her eyes—a vigorously purple expanse of all shades with a black zenith and no whites—seem troubled. My sentient creations can sometimes be a mystery even to me.

There will be time to mourn the fallen, time to collect the crystal dust, but at this moment I want everyone's spirits raised. Five Cities are safe.

                                                                                                ***