[ATTENTION!

THIS IS A SECTION OF THE PROLOGUE. EVENTS THAT OCCUR IN THIS CHAPTER GIVE CONTEXT TO SOME FUTURE EVENTS IN THE STORY, BUT IT IS NOT IMPORTANT TO START READING WITH THIS CHAPTER. ALL THE EVENTS THAT UNFOLD IN THIS CHAPTER ARE LEGENDS IN THE MAIN STORY.]

El shook his head vigorously. "I could never do that. Nammu, she's still the woman who raised me. She's still my mother, regardless of blood. I'll see her in your absence. Just hurry back. I don't know how you managed to hold everything together for so long, and I doubt I'll be capable enough to fill your shoes. I don't even know how to face the council at this point. Should I seek vengeance? Why does everyone keep so many damn secrets?"

Ea chuckled, a mixture of amusement and pain evident on his face. "There are as many secrets in the hearts of men as there are in the dao, Brother. You'll come to accept this truth quite quickly as you rule. My best advice is to do exactly as I have: follow your heart, damn the consequences. Let the council berate you, let the people curse you, but trust your instincts when making decisions. You have a good heart. As long as it's not tainted, it will never lead you astray."

El nodded glumly and settled onto the banyan tree's roots, brooding over all he'd just learned. Ao Jun turned to Ea, his expression fraught with confusion. "Who should I seek vengeance from then? Who's to blame for all of this? Your father has passed on, and now you're telling me the council isn't guilty of bringing down this hell upon us. Who am I to vent this anger on, Ea'ge?"

"I don't recall ever urging you to seek vengeance, Jun'er." Ea smiled warmly at the naive confusion on the young dragon's face. "Some matters demand retribution, while others call for acceptance. I hoped you would see this as one that warrants acceptance. Every situation presents an opportunity for growth. I trust you'll handle matters more adeptly than your predecessors after all of this, and that is a worthy lesson to learn. It's important to understand the value of life, regardless of whose life it is."

Ea paused, turning an accusatory gaze upward to the world high above the dark cloud layer hanging ominously in the sky. "Father's descent here can be likened to a natural disaster. It was unforeseeable and unavoidable, yet more lives could have been saved if more had acted. However, if you remain unreconciled by this, then direct your resentment toward me. The flood didn't commence until Father drew his final breath. It was I who slew him; thus, I am the cause of this devastation. If you ever feel the need for retribution, you may seek it from me."

"I... I understand. I think I understand." Ao Jun stammered, his head hung low, and he lost himself in contemplation.

"Now, onto the matter of your little trip through the Nether, darling," Ninmah said, her tone carrying a dangerous edge.

Ea's shoulders sagged visibly with fatigue, a testament to the weight of this whole ordeal. He settled onto the banyan tree's roots beside Ninmah and the baby, his voice carrying a tone of unwavering determination.

"Rest assured, I will return. However, I cannot determine the exact amount of time required to gather enough strength to seal away all of this ichor. It could be as short as a few years or as long as a millenia, but the ichor must be sealed. You, more than anyone, understand the dire threat posed by El and my father's remnant. Leaving it unsealed gives it a chance to reform into a shade or phantasm, and none of us want to face an undead primordial. That could be even more dangerous than a live one. Allowing it to remain on Gaea for too long could render the earthly realms uninhabitable. Father's blood is unfathomably toxic; it even affects me, despite half of it coursing through my own veins. Thus, I must transport the ichor through the Nether to the void prison, Kur—a place where there's nothing for the ichor to taint. I believe you are intimately familiar with the void prison. Your family has safeguarded its entrance for generations, after all."

Ninmah nodded slowly, her gaze piercing. "Indeed, I'm quite familiar with Kur, which is also why I know your journey cannot possibly be as simple as you say. The Nether is not a place where life should exist, and not even we empyreans can be assured of safety in the void prison. So, tell me, how can you be so confident in returning? Do you have any intentions of actually coming back to m…" she caught herself, "to us? If you cannot provide a satisfying answer, I promise I will obstruct you. Others may fear you, but I do not. I refuse to stand idly by as you throw your life away, leaving me to care for all of our children as well as your precious mortals as if I were some ill-fated warrior's widow. Your life belongs to me. You belong to me. I never would have consented to this absurd plan had I known this was the outcome you envisioned. You are not permitted to die. Do you understand me? If you do, I'll drag your ass back from the Nether and kill you myself!" Her icy words were laced with such obvious concern that Ea almost chuckled at the frosty expression his wife was making.

Ea's spirits lifted; she still loved him. However, that only made the next lies harder to say convincingly, even if they contained a smidgen of truth. "After vanquishing my father, I gained insights that have unveiled the entrance to the next stage of power. I may be edging closer to a half-step primordial than a mere empyrean now. If you don't believe me, you can verify my words with El and Jun'er; they've experienced the powers firsthand."

Ninmah regarded him with a mix of skepticism and apprehension, yet a flicker of hope danced in her eyes. "If what you say is true, then perhaps there is a chance for your safe return," she murmured, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

El, still staring broodingly at the flowing ichor, said with quiet sincerity, "I can assure you that what my brother has said is true, Mountain Queen; his new powers transcend the laws of Gaea's six realms; I've never experienced anything quite like them before."

Ninmah glanced over at the brooding figure with a tinge of pity. She sympathized with the man's good intentions, but his interjection implied she had an evident lack of trust in her husband, a thought that she found quite upsetting. Despite her understanding, she felt compelled to gently rebuke him. "I didn't ask for your opinion, little El. This is a conversation between my husband and me. Please refrain from interrupting again," she said gently, her tone soft but firm.

If El's spirits were any lower, they would have sunk into the sea of ichor beneath him. He reached for his wine flagon, intending to pour himself another cup in silence.

"Oh, and one more thing, lest I forget," Ninmah continued with a tone as sweet as syrup, reminiscent of a patient teacher correcting the mistake of a naive little child: "A sage has no right to determine if a power transcends the laws of this plane. You've yet to even glimpse the horizons of the laws. You're not a qualified judge."

The flagon that had been directed towards the cup bypassed it and went straight to El's lips. Jun'er offered him an empathetic nod of approval, understanding the pain he felt from that level of condescension rather intimately, while Ea cast his brother a look full of apology.