Skivrend's Whim

And so Mixaq knocked upon the great door to the dark palace. There was no answer. She and Foolnool waited a long time and she knocked again and still there was no answer. Mixaq was disheartened by this. Would she not reach salvation? Would her mother leave her to the cold, destined to be left to her fate without even a word of her plan spoken?

She turned and glumly kicked the void sands.

“Perhaps she is busy?” Suggested Foolnool. His metallic fingers tapped against the hull of his mechanised lower half.

“No...she sees us...knows we are here. This is a test of our resolve.”

Far beyond the dark purple and black walls of the dark gate the palace sprawled out. Far beyond shone a light from the tallest tower of the complex, and within it was the solaris of Skivrend’s waiting room. It was her study, and within it baubles and energies hummed with her dark power. And at the moment she looked down to the two beings at her gates, she frowned, sipping from a chilled glass and observing their movements.

“So, my daughter returns. And has brought with her someone from beyond my knowledge or understanding.”

She contemplated their presence, letting them squirm in uncertainty.

“Oh she, my daughter, has too much light for my liking. Too much presence. Where she reminds me of the great light one, the light and bane of me, my antithesis and thee who hast wounded me. It is by her hand and the light that reminds me of him by which I lament her creation. And yet she returns to me after I have banished her and sent her away in such vitriol not to return lest she find great ends for me to spread the darkness of my work across the shining jewels of all the stars. My void energy to cover all the world and reduce it all to the calm, the peace, the nothing-sleep to which all must return, and finally kill he who hast wounded me with his rage and light and strength. Who would she have found to muster herself? Who would she have found to steel her resolve? In whom does she see the fruition of my great design, my plan to blanket all creation in silence?”

She tapped the chilled glass of void smoke in her hands.

“Whatever, I’ll let her in.”

With a wave of her hand she made a rising motion and turned with a flourish to the stairs and began her descent to her throne room.

At said gates, Mixaq had grown disheartened.

“Perhaps she will not let me in after all. I had hoped she would have heard me.”

“Don’t feel so down on yourself.” remarked Foolnool. “The universe is full of space and resources. I crafted this, my metallic body from what I could find, perhaps you too may find what you desire.”

“What I desire, Foolnool, is my mother’s embrace. A thing that cannot be found elsewhere.”

Foolnool contemplated the dour goddess.

“Perhaps then what is needed, is for your you to find your own path.”

Mixaq was about to respond when the gates to the dark palace lurched open. The interior of the great hall was revealed, lit by lanterns along the ceiling of astral energies that drifted under the ceiling and along the walls. What was not covered in mist were festooned in ribbons of purple and dark black rugs of opulence.

And Mixaq was heartened. Foolnool’s words left her mind and she turned to enter.

Foolnool followed, though now that the thought had been planted, he considered for the first time that there may be trickery afoot. And yet he could not be sure how or what he should be looking for. The trick was not clear and the true demeanor of Skivrend was not yet known. For that matter, neither was Mixaq’s true intention in bringing him to this place. All of this known to him, he proceeded to follow into the hall.

The sounds were all muted as though the shroud of void covered the air itself. Mixaq’s footsteps were silence and Foolnool’s legs tapped lightly across the hard shimmering polished floor. They proceeded within where the hall only grew in size. They came to an archway where a throne was installed above the rest of the room under the high arched ceiling. Fountains of purple fire shimmered to either side of the great chair of honor. Skivrend lounged upon the throne with her glass. And when Mixaq noticed her she fell to her hands and knees.

“Mother!” She cried. “I have returned.”

“That much is clear!” Said Skivrend. Her voice echoed through all the void room.

She stood followed by a shimmer of dark mist and cast down the glass from her hand. Yet as it hit the floor it did not shatter, but silently evaporated into nothingness.

“Tell me. Why you have brought this THING to me?”

She pointed a crooked finger at Foolnool.

“Do not dismiss him, mother!” Mixaq cried, rising to her knees. “For I have brought this mechanic as the tool of your own ascent!”

So it is said.

By Jason Pratley

Jason Pratley joined the team sometime in 2013 when he created the concepts for the gods of ODR. He has since become the Writing Director and de facto loremaster for DDG. Check out some other stories and content at and