“You ask a good question.” Nievtala said, her form shifting without moving like a physical body. Once she laid on the “ground”, she continued speaking. “I cannot give much in the way of specifics, given that I am prohibited from revealing as much. However, generally, I can confirm a fear and thought you have already had. In every era in which they have existed, Keel are seen, at best, as a menace and hostile nation. Frequently, we are considered monsters masquerading as people, and in the worst case, we are hunted just as the keelish have been in this era. Frankly, the countries of today are less hostile to you and your people than in any previous epoch.”


    “They hate us less than otherwise?” I asked, incredulity straining my question.


    “Oh, yes, little fang.” Nievtala laughed. “The Moonchildren allowed you to be designated as fahvalo instead of prey and the Sunkindred respected that. The denizens of Shandr didn’t pursue you, and the indlovu merely annoyed you with their antics. The Misti Hawar are sure to pursue your extinction, but that is no surprise. I have my suspicions regarding the Godless Hordes and the Union, but I can’t say anything as of yet, given your complete lack of experience with them. Regardless, your greatest dangers will not be nature itself, leviathans, or other primordial creatures. As always, a people’s greatest threat is another people.”


    Though I wanted to disagree with Nievtala’s declaration that those we’d encountered hadn''t been as hateful as they could have been, I couldn’t. If Bloodpriestess Ana hadn’t been intrigued with us and excited to enrage the pursuing High Speakers, she could have slaughtered us all. Everything else my goddess had explained was sure to be true as well.


    “And how can we overcome that hatred?”


    “I suppose that is a decision you must make yourself. There are, of course, various possibilities, but I would suggest any combination of one of two paths forward. That of conquest, or that of diplomacy. Interestingly enough, you and your adorable Sybil are well suited to those two paths.”


    “Considering your position, you’re more like a gossipy old lady from my previous life than I would have expected.” I answered, somehow accidentally focusing on something wholly unrelated to what I actually wanted to ask.


    “There is precious little to do in my day to day, and while I have an expanded consciousness and perception, I am much more limited than you might expect of a deity. Thus, much of what I can specifically glean from the world comes from my Chosen and Disciples. I watch your lives with nearly as much interest as you do, and you should know I will continue to do so.”


    I sighed, my possibly nonexistent tail flicking in faint irritation. “Very well. The two paths. Conquest would alleviate pressure on us by destroying our enemies, and diplomacy would facilitate our growth without endangering ourselves quite as much. Though, conquest seems to be an arm of diplomacy.”


    “That is not untrue, I suppose.”


    Most of my questions now answered, there was one that settled to the forefront of my mind. I hesitated to ask, though, and found myself allowing the silence to stretch out between us. After several minutes, Nievtala spoke, her tone gentle and infused with a certain weight of divinity.


    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    “I can read your mind.”


    “I am aware. And you should know that’s part of what I worry about.”


    Nievtala sat up, her face impassive and unreadable while her glimmering eyes searched my soul. “Ask, and I shall answer. If you do not, I will not. I am no mortal, eager to please your every whim and willing to indulge your every worry. If you are strong enough to ask, you’re capable of receiving an answer in return.”


    I steeled myself.


    “Why have you constantly tried to wash away my sense of self?”


    “You are soft.” She responded, her tone firm and disapproving. Though much weaker than when her words shook my body and shattered my mind, the weight of a goddess’s disapproval made my soul quake. “You still mourn the loss of a hatchling with little to no promise, and you carry a load on your heart for his death to a mere terrorbird when he was days old. That is foolishness. You care too deeply about the fates of every one of your followers, when you are their Alpha, and a scant few of them have the slightest possibility of truly supporting you on your path. You have the potential to be the greatest weapon this world has ever seen, and you squander it by blunting your edges and softening your blows.


    “I sought to take from you your squeamishness and reluctance to slaughter. If you were more selfish and focused, you could have completed at least one more round of extermination to gain additional stats, stats that would have carried into your evolution with greater impact.”


    “I don’t hesitate to slaughter, I merely allow for the swarm to gain more benefits as well alongside me!” I could feel my anger surging and burning away the cowardice her overwhelming emotions attempted to force upon me. “And though the System has laid out a path in your passage’s wake, I am permitted to make my own decisions.”


    “That is true.” Nievtala allowed. “However, you underestimate the importance of yourself. Even now, you continue to forget that you are the singular pillar on which your people’s existence is founded. If you die now, there would be no more Keel. There would be no prayer of your swarm’s survival. Your people worship you and are ready and willing to support you through everything, yet you instead fixate yourself on a continued sense of fairness.


    “Even so,” Nievtala spoke, cutting off my next argument, “there is some merit to your approach. Once your evolution is complete, there will be many more Keel present among your followers than would have been possible, were you to have pursued the egotistical paths I suggested. Your people’s development will be greater assisted by your use of [Evolutionary Exemplar] than I believe you could have offered as even an individual twice your strength and capability would have been able to, any time soon. I do not know for a surety that, in the long run, your approach or mine would be more impactful and beneficial. However, I am willing to allow you your foibles and experiments.”


    I quickly realized this was as near to an apology as I could expect to receive, and I bowed my head to the goddess.


    “Thank you for your patience with me. I recognize I’m not always the best follower.”


    “No, you are not.” Nievtala smirked. “However, I cannot call myself the most dedicated and consistent of goddesses either. After all, my people have never had an empire last longer than 127 years.”


    As she spoke, without my conscious decision or thought, I found my mind surrounded in an approximation of a warm, vibrating sand bath. Though I wasn’t present with my body, I could feel the tension of confronting the goddess slowly drain from me. Before I could get too comfortable, though, she asked a question that had me sputtering:


    “When do you think you’ll have some children?”