"So, how does it feel watching your sacred temple—or whatever fancy word you people use for it—literally catch fire from the inside out?"
Jeanne walked up to the young handmaid and patted her softly on the shoulder, a look of genuine curiosity on her face.
Kjera paused, visibly taken aback for a second. Watching the exchange, the Doctor immediately recognized the handmaid's true identity. Still, a curious thought flickered in her mind...
For an ancient deity to voluntarily play the role of a personal maid—is there some profound divine motive behind it, or is it just her weird personal hobby?
If it was purely a personal quirk, then Kjeragandr was certainly the most approachable deity on Terra. Serving as someone's maid was about as down-to-earth as a divine being could possibly get.
"I don't feel much of anything, honestly," Kjera replied smoothly with a light shrug. "Whether those children pray at the temple or not doesn't change my presence. The only regret I have is watching those ancient structures burn to ashes just so I wouldn't blow my cover. It felt like a terrible waste."
Having known beforehand that the fire at the Vine-Bear Court was bound to happen, Kjera found the incident completely understandable and saw no reason to hold a grudge over lost timber.
"Your heart really is remarkably forgiving," the Doctor noted as she ambled over, greeting the legendary goddess with her usual casual charm. "Though I have to ask... is this body actually your true form? Or is it just a vessel, an avatar of sorts? What state do you actually exist in within this country?"
After scrutinizing Kjera with a somewhat impolite level of focus, the Doctor's insatiable scientific curiosity flamed up once more. She was utterly fascinated by the mechanics of Kjeragandr's existence.
"This isn't the best place to discuss such matters," Kjera said, taking a step back before gesturing toward the door behind her. "If you're really that curious, why don't we step inside for a chat?"
The chamber was a temporary resting lounge set aside for Saintess Enya. Since the Saintess was currently busy tending to the passionate believers outside, Kjera invited the two travelers inside.
Inside, several yellowed, ancient texts lay scattered across a wooden table. Scorched edges were visible along their leather spines, clear evidence that someone had hastily rescued them from the flames at the first sign of fire.
"You weren't at Enya's side when the blaze started because you were busy salvaging these?" Jeanne asked, picking up one of the ancient volumes as realization dawned on her.
"Yes," Kjera nodded softly. "These scriptures contain the true, unvarnished history of Kjerag. A devout believer once told me that history is the most precious thing a people can possess. Once lost, it can never be truly recovered."
Her words laid bare just how desperately Enciodes had acted. In his rush to force change, the patriarch of the Silverash Clan had been prepared to torch Kjerag's recorded history without a second thought, leaving no time to preserve these priceless relics.
"Or perhaps he harbored a deep, internal rejection of that very history," the Doctor mused softly after a moment of quiet reflection. "To his mind, it might be those very centuries of tradition that kept Kjerag frozen in time."
A radical visionary, driven to even greater extremes after being shaken by the Grand Council of Nations in Laterano—Enciodes was teetering right on the razor's edge of becoming a ruthless, unyielding revolutionary.
"He is a man of vast ambition," Kjera offered gently, defending the man who had ordered her sacred sanctuary burned. "He was simply rattled by something recent. The Enciodes I knew before would never have acted this recklessly."
In the eyes of an ancient deity, Enciodes was perhaps nothing more than a willful, troubled child throwing a grand tantrum.
"If he knew Kjeragandr was describing him like a misbehaving kid, he'd be mortified beyond words," the Doctor chuckled under her breath, imagining the sheer irony of the situation.
"Temples, shrines, cathedrals... those grand structures mean very little to me," Kjera continued, looking out the small glass window. "When my very first believer knelt down to pray to me, we were standing in an empty, desolate wasteland."
She truly didn't care about marble altars or grand halls. If anything, she preferred living among the people in the valley town, where she could watch over her 'children' up close. To her, every single soul in this mountainous realm was a child she cared for.
"That's surprisingly humble," the Doctor remarked, tilting her head. "I always assumed god-like entities were the type to destroy the world over the slightest offense. What Enciodes did borders on complete sacrilege—he should be struck down by a divine curse!"
"Why do I feel like you're dropping subtle hints about someone else?" Jeanne chimed in quickly, taking a hasty step away from the Doctor. "Watch your tongue, or cosmic retribution might hit you next!"
Jeanne couldn't help but suspect the Doctor was secretly poking fun at the Lord above, whose ancient wrath had indeed brought down judgments in ages past. If a random divine lightning bolt decided to strike the sharp-tongued strategist right now, Jeanne wanted to be nowhere near the blast zone.
BOOM—
A low, distant rumble of thunder rolled across the distant peaks outside.
Jeanne froze. No way...
"Aaaah! No!" The Doctor shrieked dramatically, lunging forward to wrap her arms tight around Jeanne without the slightest care for decorum or Kjerag's presence. "If divine wrath descends, I'm clinging to you for dear life! You're my only shield!"
If her big mouth had genuinely invoked heavenly judgment, the only person present who could shield her from divine wrath—aside from Kjeragandr, whose powers were a mystery—was the Laterano Saintess herself.
"Get off me!" Jeanne snapped, swatting at the clinging hooded figure. "The divine will doesn't waste time smiting someone over a joke! Do you really think the heavens are as petty and narrow-minded as you?"
"I am NOT narrow-minded!" the Doctor yelled back defensively.
Sitting nearby, Kjera blinked her wide, expressive eyes, watching the two bicker back and forth. Weren't we just talking about my existence? How did the conversation derail so completely in two seconds?
The isolated mountain goddess felt her divine mind struggling to keep up with the bizarre, lightning-fast thought process of the two travelers before her. Mortals really were fascinating creatures.
"Ahem! Alright, alright, let's get back on track," the Doctor gasped, breaking away from Jeanne after realizing she was losing the argument. She turned back to face Kjera with a serious expression. "Lady Kjeragandr, is this human-like body truly your own? I mean, is your true form naturally shaped like a human female?"
"Just call me Kjera," the goddess reminded her gently. "Please avoid using my true name out in public."
If the Doctor went around shouting 'Kjeragandr' in the middle of town, it would either end with her getting mobbed by outraged believers or dragging a mountain of unnecessary trouble right to Kjera's doorstep.
"As for my body, your guess is correct," Kjera explained, standing up so the Doctor could examine her form closely. "This isn't my true physical state. You can consider this human body a localized manifestation—an avatar I forged using my power."
"So you can actually forge a functioning human body out of pure power?" The Doctor leaned in, her eyes shining with scientific fascination. "Even if it isn't entirely beyond imagination, seeing it in person is mind-blowing."
It was her very first time interacting with an active, localized deity up close, and her intellectual curiosity was burning red-hot.
"Tell me..." Kjera asked hesitantly, her voice dropping as she looked between the Doctor and Jeanne. "In the vast nations out beyond these mountains... are there others like me?"
It was a quiet, heavy question that had weighed on her heart for centuries. Was she a solitary, freak anomaly on this vast land, or were there kindred spirits walking the distant corners of Terra?
"Though I haven't met them personally," the Doctor answered thoughtfully, "beings referred to as deities or divine entities are far from unheard of across Terra. In the northern lands of Sami, for instance, many such entities exist, and the native tribes there have lived alongside them for generations."
The Doctor intentionally avoided bringing up the Great Yan. The relationship between Yan's imperial court and its ancient deities was notoriously tense and bloody—hardly an inspiring topic for a peaceful discussion.
"Is that so...? That's wonderful to hear..." A quiet, genuine warmth blossomed in Kjera's chest. Knowing she wasn't a lone anomaly on a cold world—that others of her kind existed out there—brought her a strange, profound sense of comfort.
"I wouldn't celebrate just yet," the Doctor added with a blunt, well-meaning dash of cold water. "Having others of your kind usually means having potential enemies."
Entities of divine caliber rarely possessed a cozy concept of 'kinship.' Terra's history was littered with bloody domain wars; even in Sami, peaceful coexistence had only been achieved after centuries of territorial clashes and the threat of the Demons.
"I understand," Kjera murmured softly, a gentle smile touching her lips. "I was just a little moved to hear I have peers out there. It's an emotion I can barely put into words, so I doubt you could fully understand..."
"I'm out there breaking a sweat running errands, and here you are taking a break behind my back!" Enya's sharp, playful voice suddenly cut in from the doorway, followed by a gasp of shock. "Wait... what happened?! Why do you look like you're about to burst into tears?!"