Chapter Text
To celebrate the birth of her daughter, the future Goddess of Wisdom and Dreams, Greater Lord Rukkhadevata held a gathering for all the gods and deities. There were not many gods within Sumeru, so the few of them gathered in the Sanctuary of Surasthana.
The sanctuary served as the Greater Lord’s palace, built within the Great Tree’s trunk, overlooking the City of Sumeru. The sanctuary was humble; it was not large, yet it was still grand. The walls seemed to cascade down to the opening, and the building seemed to glow. The leaves provided a canopy over the sanctuary. The inside appeared larger than the outside, and tonight it was bustling with the excitement of the gods. They mingled together, exchanging meaningless small talk all while gushing over Lesser Lord Kusanali.
One of the gods from the desert stood away from the others. He watched the others offering gifts to the Lesser Lord, his jackal headdress downcast. He watched Aaru Village’s guardian approach him, two champagne glasses in her hands. She, too, was from the desert, which provided the god with some feeling of comfort.
“Ready to join us?” she asked when she reached him. Her blue and golden eyes held no judgment against him.
“I’m not one for socializing,” he responded curtly.
She just smiled and handed him one of the glasses. “You could start with a simple ‘hello.’ Or the big topic of the night. Whichever one works for you.”
He remained quiet for a moment before muttering, “Hello, Candace.”
“Easy, right?” She chuckled. “We’ve got a conversation going. Now, do you have anything to offer the lords?”
“I’ve already offered my complete protection.”
“I see.” The god focused his eyes on the crowd behind Candace. Catching this, she said jokingly, “You had a conversation tonight. Good for you. Now I’ll leave you to stare at everyone.” She turned and flicked her hand as she walked away. When she was with the crowd again, he dumped the champagne in the trash.
Some time had passed and the god had opted to leave when a man with long ears walked in. Despite being considerably late, he didn’t appear as if he was in a hurry to arrive. He wore colorful attire, like he was donning every aspect of the forest. The Goddess of Flowers smiled wide and took him by his hands, leading him towards everyone else. They all focused on him, talking excitedly and shaking his hand. He wore a genuine smile and talked to each of them, but the god couldn’t hear what he said. He turned his attention to where Greater Lord Rukkhadevata stood, who smiled warmly at him. He broke away from the crowd and made his way towards her. Everyone went quiet and watched.
He bowed when he reached her, then turned to the cradle. Her daughter laid inside, staring up at him. He took one of the leaves that twisted around the cradle and placed it on his palm. The leaf glowed a faint green, and a symbol that looked close to a heart appeared in the center. He tucked the leaf into her hair and the glowing dissipated. The baby giggled.
“May you always find comfort in the leaves and safety in the branches.” His voice was soothing and confident as he continued. “The plants will speak with you and grant you company, as they do with me.”
The god watched as the Greater Lord took both of the man’s hands. Silently, the god slipped outside, ready to leave. He walked to the edge of the sanctuary and looked down over the quiet city. A few stragglers walked across the streets. The city seemed a lot better than what he had growing up in the desert, so the lights always marveled him. He stared out, lost in thought.
He was so deep in his memories that he hadn’t noticed the door behind him opening. He caught their footsteps and instinctively tensed up. Turning, he noticed the man with long ears walking down the slope towards him. The god stared at him until he reached his side.
“You’re leaving now, too?” the man asked, leaning against the rail.
“Didn’t you just arrive?” The god figured it was common courtesy to stay a while, but here this man was, leaving immediately.
“I can’t stand gatherings like this,” he admitted, one of his ears flicking. “A lot of gods are loud and boastful of their skills, when honestly sometimes they have no reason to be. It gets annoying and quite draining to be around.”
The man said it so openly and clear that the god was slightly surprised. Of course, he agreed, but he had never heard of anyone insulting the gods like that. He liked how this man openly said it and spoke his mind. It interested him.
“What was that you gave Lesser Lord Kusanali?”
“Something from the forest,” the man said. “If she ever escapes the city and comes into the forest, she won’t be alone.” He leaned down over the railing and twirled some leaves around his gloved fingers.
The god watched quietly. He couldn’t explain it, but he wanted to keep talking with this man. He was different from the gods inside the sanctuary that he distanced himself from. He had never entertained the idea of making a friend, but he found he wanted to know this man.
“I’ve never really been into the forest,” he said, just to have something to say.
The man next to him hummed. “I can tell by looking at you.” He looked up from the leaves and met his eyes, smiling slightly. “So, who are you?”
He was quiet for a moment before responding. “I’m from the desert,” he told him. “God of the Scales.” He said the last part more sternly and a bit quieter.
The man smirked. “I didn’t ask for your title. I meant your name. Who you actually are.”
The god slightly gaped. No one in a long while had cared to ask for his name or cared to know who he was. Everyone he had met with only seemed to pay attention to his status. Did this man truly care about his name and not his status?
The man raised an eyebrow in amusement and softly cleared his throat, reminding the god that he was taking a while to answer. He flushed a bit and cleared his own throat a lot louder. “Cyno. My name is Cyno.”
The man plucked a leaf from the branches below him. In his hands, green wisps surrounded the leaf, and it somehow bloomed into a blue lotus. The god marveled at the sight.
“For you, Cyno.” The man took one of his hands and gently placed the lotus in it. Cyno stared down at it. His expression was blank, but amazement sparkled in his eyes.
“I’ll be taking my leave now.” The man turned. Cyno snapped his head up from his hand and watched as he walked away, his bushy tail swishing slightly.
“Wait,” he called out. “You never told me your name.”
He stopped and turned his head over his shoulder. He raised his hand. “Guess,” he said, a smirk on his lips. Then, he walked away.
He did. Cyno guessed his whole journey back to the desert, making up names and deciding that none fit. He kept the lotus securely in his hand, absently fiddling with it as he eliminated name after name.
—
No one escaped from the God of the Scales. But, as he pursued a sinner through the forest, he silently cursed him.
Most sinners who attempted to run usually hid within the sand dunes or ruins. They never lasted long in their hiding spots, for the god knew the desert like the back of his hand. He’s never had any reason to enter the forest except for his rare trips into the city. He was extremely unknowledgeable of the forest, so he supposed this sinner was smart for attempting to lose him within the leaves. In the dark, too, which he cursed.
He gracelessly trekked through the bushes, nearly tripping more than once. He tried to listen out for movement, but he made too much noise himself. He clutched his polearm, ready to strike at a moment’s notice.
After some walking, he heard rustling that he didn’t make. He pinpointed the noise to a flower bush and slowly reached his hand out to grab some leaves. Quickly, he pushed them away and pointed his polearm out towards the noise. Instead of a human, he saw a few fairies gathered in the leaves. They looked up at him with intrigued faces.
“Stranger.”
“A stranger in the forest?”
“Suppose the Forest Watcher knows.”
“Or on his way.”
Their voices were like whispers in the wind that faded quickly. He looked between the fairies, not quite catching their words. “Sorry, don’t mind me.” He moved to walk away, but stopped at a second thought. “Wait, have you seen a human passing by?”
“Human!” one of the fairies exclaimed.
“You’d want to seek the Forest Watcher,” one said, more clearly. “He knows all.”
The god had never heard of the Forest Watcher, and he opted to just continue on his own. But, he figured if this Forest Watcher was real, then he’d need his help. He couldn’t continue through the forest on his own.
“Where can I find him?”
“He’s already found you,” one said.
“Yes! I hear him!” another confirmed.
Before the god could question them, they all flew away and disappeared into the forest. He sighed and moved to continue when a green arrow landed next to his foot. It dissipated on impact, leaving behind roots that coiled around his foot, holding him in place. He readied his polearm and whipped his head around, looking for the source of the arrow. A shadow moved in the corner of his eye. It leapt down from a tree overhead and landed a few yards ahead of him. The shadow was hooded, so with the darkness, the god couldn’t see their face. They held a bow in their left hand.
Before the god could speak, the hooded figure stopped, as if realizing something. Their voice was soothing and confident, with a hint of a smirk.
“I didn’t expect to run into you again here. Its been a while, Cyno.”
Cyno recognized his voice instantly. He relaxed his shoulders. “About a century, I’d say.”
The figure pulled his hood down and revealed green hair chopped to his neck and long ears. With a flick of his hand, the bow disappeared.
“It took you near a century to gather some wits and come into the forest,” he said jokingly. “I’d say you finally came to visit me, but I know why you’re really here.”
“You’ve seen a human scrambling around here?”
“More like heard him,” he corrected him. His ear twitched once. “Then I heard you tripping over branches and almost attacking fairies. I came over here first and realized it was you. It doesn’t take a genius to put two-and-two together; the God of the Scales is pursuing a sinner through the forest. About right?” He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, as if he already knew he was correct.
Cyno relaxed his hold on his weapon, but still kept it by his side. He made no move to try and free his foot from the roots. “The fairies told me to find someone called the Forest Watcher,” he started. “That’s you, isn’t it?”
The man smiled as an answer. “It would be best if you followed me. You have zero knowledge of the forest, and I would like to find this guy before his dumbass gets lost forever or hurts himself,” he said bluntly. “We have a common goal right now.”
Almost a hundred years had passed and Cyno still found himself intrigued by this man. The feeling of wanting to know him personally was still there, so if agreeing to work with him to catch the sinner would grant him more time with this man, then he was going to take it. He told himself that his experience with the forest would benefit him and that he’d be stupid to trek on alone, but he tried to suppress a smile as he spoke.
“Okay. You lead, then.”
The roots coiled around his foot freed him and he moved to follow the man. He stayed close, not wanting to become lost himself. The man’s words from way back came back to him as they walked. He thought of a name, then eliminated that one, too.
“I’m done guessing,” Cyno said, breaking the silence that fell between them.
The man knew what he was talking about. Without turning, he said, “Here’s a hint: eight letters. Starts with ‘T.’”
Cyno thought for a moment, then sighed. “I’ve gone through hundreds. I have no more ideas.”
The man laughed. “I would’ve thought you’d give up sooner. Props to you.”
He waited for him to give up his name. A beat of silence passed and he realized he wasn’t going to. Cyno softly cleared his throat. “So–”
“Wait,” he cut him off. His ear flicked and slightly turned to the left. His head swiveled to the left and he focused towards that direction. “Come on,” he said, already rushing off. He disappeared among the leaves.
Cyno scrambled to keep up. His foot caught on branches more than once, but he quickly regained his balance and kept up with the man. Abruptly, the man stopped and looked around. His eyes narrowed as he tried to listen out for a sound and pinpoint it. Cyno scanned the area. He took in greenery upon greenery, but he knew better than to assume they were alone. He adjusted his grip on his polearm.
Rustling behind them alerted them both. The sound of something light landing on the forest floor followed. The man’s eyebrows furrowed, then raised only for a split second as if in realization. He stalked off towards the source of the sound. Cyno followed behind.
They walked a few feet out before the man stopped. Cyno looked around for anything that could’ve caused the sound, expecting it to be the human. He spotted nothing and turned to look at the man. In one swift motion, the man swiveled on his heels, summoned his bow, aimed, and shot at something out of sight. Cyno had no time to react before he rushed off towards where they originally were. He tensed and clutched his polearm, then hurried after him.
They returned to where they were a moment ago. Pinned to a tree was the human, struggling to break away from the arrow that held him there. He brandished a pocket knife and tried to cut through the arrow, but it had molded itself with the tree bark. At their approach, he pointed his knife out with shaky hands.
“I won’t go back!” he shouted. “You dirty scum can’t get me!” He threw more insults intended for Cyno. The god narrowed his eyes at him and slammed the end of his weapon into the ground, small electric bolts being produced on impact. The human clamped his mouth shut.
The Forest Watcher knelt down and picked up a slingshot that the human must’ve dropped. He took a rock and pulled it back using the string. He let go, aiming towards where they heard a sound previously, and it shot out. It made the same sound they heard when it landed.
“That’s fun,” he said, clearly amused.
“I don’t know who the hell you are, but you should mind your own damn business, Ears. Get this arrow off me!” He looked directly at the Forest Watcher. His trembling voice gave away his tough act.
He stepped forward until his face was a mere foot away from the human. The human leaned back against the tree and held up his knife. He plucked his knife out of his hands.
“As soon as you stepped foot into the forest, I knew,” he said slowly, leaning forward and looking the human right in the eyes. His voice was low. “I know of everything that happens within the leaves. Nothing escapes my ears, and should I ask, the forest will tell me all that I need to know. You’ve come in disregard to the life of the forest, the prosperity of the species, and the peace of the land. Even if the God of the Scales was not pursuing you, I would have hunted you down and given you due punishment myself. The trees would block out your cries and had never given up wherever your body might’ve laid.”
The human’s eyes widened. The Forest Watcher placed a hand on his shoulder and patted it once. He straightened back up and smiled. “Good talk, glad we got to chat.” He turned to Cyno and said, “All yours,” then sauntered off, fiddling with the slingshot he still held.
Cyno himself gaped at what he said, but he quickly hid it under a face of stone. He placed a hand on the nape of the human’s neck, who flinched at the touch. He spat down at the god’s feet.
“Your soul shall be placed upon the scales.” Under his fingertips, electricity bolted through the sinner’s veins, and he passed out. His soul will be weighed at a later time, once they were in the desert. For now, his mind was preoccupied.
He joined the Forest Watcher, who was now carving something into the base of the slingshot with the knife. He looked up and smiled at him. “I bet you’re itching to get back to the desert.”
Cyno grunted. He stood stiff and awkwardly. He had a million things he wanted to say, but he settled on “Thank you.”
“It’s kind of my job, and you would’ve still been scrambling around without me,” he said, waving the thanks off. “That reminds me, I’m a bit upset with you, too.”
“Me?”
“You can’t come wandering into the forest, tracking someone down, with zero prior knowledge. The forest is an incredibly hostile place for those unprepared, and you’re no exception.”
“Sorry,” was all he said in response. His face was blank, but he meant it.
“I’m sure you’ll find a reason to come back. I have no doubt that you’ll become familiar with the environment one day.” The man placed the slingshot in Cyno’s hands. “That thing’s really fun. Maybe you’ll find it useful.”
He absently pulled at the string. “I’ll be back. To visit.”
The man smirked. “I know.” He faked a yawn and turned to walk off. “I’m exhausted. Goodnight, Cyno.”
“I still don’t know your name,” he called out.
The man only faked another yawn and said, “I’m beat.” He disappeared among the trees.
Cyno stood there, still pulling at the string. He stared out where the man disappeared. He sighed, flung the human over his shoulder, and started his trek back to the desert. Once he reached the sand, he ran his fingers over the base of the slingshot and felt carving in the wood. With a start, he remembered the man engraving something into it. He looked down at it and made out eight letters. A name. The letters spelt out Tighnari.
He repeated the name over and over to himself.