Few things ever changed in Neyto, and even if they did, fundamentally, everything stayed the same. The world kept slowly turning on its axis, even if some insane dryad was trying to alter reality for their convenience or if some mountain spirit had its own mind about the way it should turn. Ultimately, things stayed the same, or the Grandmother might just induct a new being into the Barrow Den, as she occasionally did if somebody felt the desperate need to make a nuisance of themselves. Even the Gods, limited as their reach was on the Aretian Continent, barely tried to interfere in the affairs of the Frozen North. Granted, that was mostly due to the amount of effort one would have to exert to control the few people who spread across a massive territory, but it was also due to the Grandmother and her small domain.
However, in recent months, things have changed a lot more than usual and yet…
It started with the introduction of the Travellers, even though their numbers in the north were limited and remained roughly proportional to the scant number of people living in the scattered communities. These newcomers shook things up, ignoring conventions and, in a few cases, completely accidentally turning destiny on its head. Curses were broken, tribes changed direction, and there was much excitement, at least for a time. But then, eventually, things started to calm back down—or so it seemed.
As it turned out, just because nothing happened in the Frozen North didn’t mean that the Frozen North was unaffected by the things that occurred elsewhere. While few beings can touch the entire world, one of those that had that ability was unleashed and, for some time, things got a little hectic as acid rained from the skies and the scant summers in the Frozen North became even shorter and harsher. That caused great hardship all around, making countless beings suffer from starvation and ultimately succumb to it all around their world. And yet, despite all that turmoil, Neyto and its surroundings effectively stayed the same. Neyto and the crystal forest around it were shielded from the adverse effects caused by the Dragon thanks to the very same power that had unleashed it. The power flowing through the Nexus of Neyto, used to release the Dragon on the other side of the world, was harnessed by the Grandmother, the Crone, to shield her little domain, allowing those sheltering under her aegis to remain unharmed.
For a time, the Grandmother was somewhat annoyed by her student, the one who had unleashed the dragon and shifted the entire world on its axis, but that annoyance didn’t last all that long. Once the said student called upon her, allowing the Grandmother to become something more than she was, something she had always yearned to become, her ire faded, replaced by a deep sense of droll amusement. After all, it wasn’t an everyday occurrence that somebody handed you the keys to divinity, even if it was a divinity shared between three different beings and channelled into a specific direction, luckily one that matched the Grandmother’s interests quite well.
The only downside of the deal, if it could even called one, was that the other two parts of their burgeoning divine triad were a world away, on the same plane as the few worshippers they were gaining and thus, the prayers could only flow to the Crone and, through her, into the dreams of her compatriots. It was quite an interesting experience, especially when the elderly witch realised just what the divinity they were gaining truly meant and with whom it would eventually connect them. Not as subordinates or bound to the Other but as the other side of a mirror, reflected and separate, yet the same if things were to grow and continue as they did initially. Granted, that was far from guaranteed, especially not with the involvement of her dear student, who seemed to be so uniquely qualified when it came to causing havoc, chaos and, beyond everything else, Change.
Another thing the Grandmother, and truly, everyone living within the boundaries of Neyto, realised was the slow morphing of the landscape. With the Grandmother’s apotheosis into the Crone, Neyto and its surroundings, long since bound to the Grandmother and her power, followed suit, changing to accommodate the reality that the Grandmother’s realm was turning into a divine realm, that of the Crone. And only her, even if the connection between the three was slowly manifesting itself and creating something new.
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Another Power was quietly observing, with what could only be described as a fascinated grin on Her face. But that was a topic for another day. The important part was that the Grandmother was exploring something new, something beyond her Barrow Den and the various beings she had imprisoned within to keep her beloved north safe from harm. Now, beings from another world were reaching out to her, seeking guidance and help, something she was readily able to bestow upon them.
That alone would have been a blessing for the ancient being, the ability to help others without having to leave her domain, without risking the direct interference of the Asgardian or Olympian Gods who had long since carved the world of Mundus up into their spheres of influence, even if that influence had waned somewhat after the Conflagration, the destruction of the Ancient Empire and the shifting of the seas. But it wasn’t just the ability to help and heal others; it was the ability to teach, to spread her own influence in a way she had never even been able to dream about. The reality of her burgeoning divinity was far beyond anything she could have imagined, which, for a being as powerful and ancient as the Grandmother, said quite a lot.
And so it was that, as she sat on her favourite bench next to the water-that-was-not of the Nexus, letting her mind relax and wander the boundary between what was the physical reality of Neyto, the place on Mundus, and her divine domain overlapping it. Within the physical realm, she could hear the wind playing with the leaves of the crystal forest all around the small hamlet, while in the divine domain, she could, once again, hear the soft singing of one of her compatriots. Those soft, ever-changing songs were quite interesting on a purely auditory level. However, curiously, they also served to convey a bit of power, almost like the answer to a prayer that had yet to come, flowing into their divine domain and just remaining there until it was needed.
A part of her, the magical scholar, the seeker of truths and answers, wanted to investigate this peculiar phenomenon. Still, another part, the part that was slowly becoming divine in nature, knew that it might just be something unique to her compatriot and erstwhile student.
Just like the curious link she shared with the other third of their little triad was unique to the two of them. It was a bond different from the one shared by Mother and Daughter but one that skipped a generation, the bond between Daughter and Grandmother.
Distance, as some said, gave a different, broader perspective. Thus, the slightly increased distance between Daughter and Grandmother allowed the Grandmother to see mistakes their Daughter, the Granddaughter’s mother, might make, especially as the Grandmother might have made the same mistakes back in the day when teaching her own Daughter, who was now the Mother. But, as with so many things, some of these mistakes were just as important to make as it was to generally avoid mistakes, causing the Grandmother to guide the Granddaughter in an entirely different fashion, separate from the guidance the Mother might bestow upon them.
In their case, the Mother, the Crone’s student, gave the Daughter direct guidance, showing her how to do certain things and teaching her skills and abilities. In contrast, the Grandmother, the Crone, simply gave the daughter access to something she normally couldn’t manipulate. And so, thanks to the successive efforts of different generations, knowledge was passed on, increasing with every lesson taught, as the teacher learned just as much in teaching as the student learned in the lesson. At least as long as the teacher kept an open mind.
A smile tugged on the Crone’s lips when she felt a mild query, a prayer for guidance, and a small lesson reach her from across the vast distance, arriving in her divine realm as a whisper. The smile grew even brighter when the prayer didn’t require her to answer. Instead, she could feel the song move through the crystal trees and the mists wafting between them, turning from a simple, if incredibly fascinating, melody into something more, an answer to the prayer just spoken, giving guidance to those in need, regardless of the distance involved. It would be interesting to see how this particular feature, independent of the conscious mind of those it reflected, would develop in the future. Maybe it was just another lesson.
And, maybe, it would be so much more.
