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“Mr. Fool! Mr. Fool! Are you an elf?” Amon asked excitedly, a cheeky smile plastered across his little face.
Adam looked up at the quiet god, eyes also wide with curiosity as he awaited the god’s answer.
Zhou Mingrui sighed, ‘He’ knew this question was coming the moment the two rascals had mentioned learning about their overpowered father’s past conquests.
The god mulled over ‘His’ possible answers.
One - ‘He’ was an elf, but not related to the elves from the past epochs. Two - ‘He’ simply possessed some elf blood, leading to ‘His’ apparent elven features but lack of the distinctive pointed ears. Three - the truth, being that ‘He’ had existed prior to the current documented history, when ‘His’ features were common to a certain area of the world that had changed. Meaning that ‘He’ was neither an elf, nor descended from elves, but a mysterious third entity.
The fourth answer, being none at all, would simply not be accepted. The twin angels, notably Amon, would pester ‘Him’ to no end, after learning that the god with the mysterious aura was actually a big softy at heart.
The second answer was the easiest to explain and was accepted by most of the angels in the current era. This was the answer that Grisha had prepared for ‘His’ council of angels upon their wary questioning of their Lord’s newest friend.
However, the two small angels before Zhou Mingrui were notably persistent, and simply lacked the intrinsic fear of deities that accompanied the rest of their father’s court.
“Curiosity killed the cat,” thought the Fool to ‘Himself’ despairingly before shaking ‘His’ head, “but satisfaction brought it back.”
The god had always wrestled with the second half of the saying. Was having the answer to everything really worth the pain that accompanied the knowledge?
Zhou Mingrui wondered how much ‘His’ fellow earthling had told ‘His’ sons about the past. Knowing this would make the following conversation much easier.
‘He’ knew telling the little angels the truth wouldn’t harm ‘Him’ or ‘His’ fellow earthlings in any capacity, as two of them already surpassed the status of a True Deity, while the third was a True Deity in ‘Her’ own right. It was simply … complicated, the explanation dredging up past hurts and feelings.
‘He’ looked down at two sets of expectant eyes, eyes full of childish curiosity, for once without a hint of mischief (on the part of Amon).
“I’m not an elf,” came the simple answer, leaving it up to the children to decide whether to push forward with their questions.
Of course Amon, who knew absolutely no tact, barreled forward with his questions, failing to notice the slight melancholy that had blanked the god sitting before them.
Adam, the ever vigilant Spectator, had noticed the god’s subtle change in mood, but seeing how ‘He’ had still chosen to answer, albeit briefly, let his brother’s curiosity continue driving forward the conversation. He too had wanted to ask about Mr. Fool’s clear elven features, but silently elected to have his brother ask in his stead.
As Amon questioned the ever-patient Fool, the god’s history was revealed piece by piece. The two little angels slowly came to the realization that the gentle deity before them was a truly ancient being, one that rivalled their Father in age.
Amon didn’t really understand how something could exist before the time he knew now, but as he considered the possibility, he decided that it made much more sense than Mr. Fool being related to the hot-blooded elves his Father had told him about.
Adam simply accepted Mr. Fool’s answers. He had noticed early on clear similarities between his Father and Mr. Fool. The first time he had encountered the Fool outside the boundary of Sefirah Castle, he had felt at ease, almost as if he was simply in the presence of his Father. These similarities made more sense if the two had come from a different time, even though the two shared no similar physical characteristics.
Zhou Mingrui pulled different props from the Historical Void to further sate the children’s curiosity.
Most notably, and the one that brought the most mixed feelings to the god, was a picture of ‘Him’ and ‘His’ parents in the before times.
It was a simple cheesy snapshot, taken at some tourist trap in another city. The trio had taken a day trip there when Zhou Mingrui finally had some much needed downtime from work. The three had been ushered into a room with a green screen backdrop and urged to stand in a box for their commemorative photo. At the end of the experience, they had been directed to the cashier and shown the photo - a silly one of the three plastered on a terribly edited backdrop of the landmark they had visited.
Zhou Mingrui hadn’t wanted to purchase the photo, as it was completely overpriced. ‘His’ mother had insisted, citing how trips together were few and far between since Mingrui had gotten ‘His’ new job. She mentioned how she and Mingrui’s father were getting older, so having a few more photos while they still had hair was important.
Zhou Mingrui simply chuckled at ‘His’ mother’s antics, stating that she was clearly as beautiful as the day ‘He’ was born, before purchasing the overpriced souvenir.
This had been the last photo taken of the three before Zhou Mingrui opened ‘His’ eyes, alone, in Sefirah Castle.
The two angels gazed upon the photo, eyes wide in wonder. Amon asked question after question over the minute details, intrigued by the landmark in the background, having never seen anything similar with his own two eyes.
Adam, noticing the god’s empty expression, simply pointed out the clear familial relationship the trio had, quietly stating, “Mr. Fool, you look like them.”
Zhou Mingrui smiled slightly, ‘He’ knew the little Angel of Imagination was trying to comfort ‘Him.’ ‘He’ had also felt the angel’s subtle attempt at using Placate on the god, and had elected to ignore what could probably be considered an act of blasphemy.
Amon, the ever chaotically curious creature quickly asked another question, “Mr. Fool looks like ‘His’ family, and Adam looks like Father. Why do I look different then?”
The angel had clearly noticed the physical differences between him and his almost-twin brother, one dark where the other was light.
“Why do I look like Mr. Fool?” a bomb was dropped.
Zhou Mingrui resisted the very strong urge to facepalm. This was the actual question ‘He’ was dreading, not the one about ‘His’ elven features or past. ‘He’ had also noticed early on the similarities between ‘His’ features and Amon’s and had raised the question to Grisha the last time they had met.
The beaming bastard had simply answered with, “Guess!” before making ‘His’ Divine Kingdom reject Zhou Mingrui’s presence, throwing ‘Him’ back out of the residence.
Zhou Mingrui could’ve very easily exploited a few loopholes to confront the idiot again, but had chosen the easier route.
‘He’ took a quick detour to find Amanises.
The goddess laughed at the clearly flustered god, and revealed that Grisha had had the bright idea to use the children to help ‘Him’ boost ‘His’ humanity. Since Amon was born with the Error Uniqueness, something that inherently belonged to the Lord of the Mysteries, ‘He’ had decided to model his appearance after the Fool’s who would someday inherit the title and Uniqueness.
As Zhou Mingrui angrily stormed off back to Sefirah Castle, most likely to curse and swear at the meddling bastard sun god in the comfort of ‘His’ own home, the goddess’ serene voice trailed after ‘Him.’
“Grisha thought that giving you a child, one that looked like your own flesh and blood, would keep you better tethered to this world,” ‘She’ added quietly.
The Fool was torn between thanking the two meddling gods or going back to Grisha’s residence to throttle ‘Him,’ to shake all ‘His’ ridiculous plans out onto the ground.
Zhou Mingrui hadn’t asked for a child, thank you very much!
Unbeknownst to the bemoaning Fool, ‘His’ heart had already accepted Amon as ‘His.’
The Fool looked away from the two angels, “Your father has a twisted sense of humour.”
Amon furrowed his brow, confused. What did his Father’s humour have to do with his appearance?
Adam, recognizing the conflicted feelings erupting within Mr. Fool’s mind quickly shushed his brother before he raised another potentially earth-shattering question.
Amon pouted, he really wanted to know! but listened, knowing that his brother wouldn’t stop his inquiries unless he had noticed something that the little Angel of Time hadn’t.
Zhou Mingrui, relieved that at least one of the little angels had some tact, quickly sent the children back to their father, one of them whining, while the other in quiet acceptance. The trio agreed to meet at the border of Sefirah Castle once more the following week.
The children were late.
Zhou Mingrui paced back and forth at the border of Sefirah Castle, disturbing the grey fog that lingered there. Occasionally the Hounds of Fulgrim materialized, to check to see if their favourite little angels had appeared to play with them once more before quickly leaving in disappointment.
Zhou Mingrui sighed. ‘He’ probably should’ve gone to Grisha’s residence to pick them up, even though ‘He’ knew ‘He’ would be very tempted to enter to give the god a piece of ‘His’ mind if ‘He’ had done so.
Those two angels were still physically children after all.
The Fool entered the Spirit World to ask some of ‘His’ subordinates about the whereabouts of the twin terrors. ‘He’ simply hoped they were not causing chaos on the level of city-wide destruction in the realm below, as then ‘He’ would definitely be forced to enter the Creator’s Divine Kingdom once more to play mind games with Grisha.
The answer came quickly, being the Dominator of the Spirit World really had its perks.
The kids really were in the realm below, in one of the developing cities. Though the spirit had not mentioned anything of note, other than their location.
With a sigh, Zhou Mingrui descended, for the first time in many years.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
A little girl jumped and spun around, her dirty dress swirling around her knees.
The little girl, no, Amon who had parasitized the little girl, grinned.
“Mr. Fool!” he exclaimed in delight, using the little girl’s high-pitched, squeaky voice.
The god, wearing the face of a common townsman, simply raised ‘His’ eyebrow.
Zhou Mingrui had found Amon, or at least Amon’s parasite within another person, in a dimly lit alleyway between two dilapidated buildings. The narrow path was full of trash with large rats scurrying about, clutching their rotting treasures between their yellow teeth.
This was the poorest district in the small city, rife with crime.
The god could not fathom why the little angel had chosen here of all places for his mischief.
“I wanted to learn more about families after your answers last week!” he said with a large innocent smile across the little girl’s grubby face.
The Fool furrowed ‘His’ brow in slight confusion, ‘He’ couldn’t seem to draw the connection between ‘His’ answers and the situation at hand. The little angel’s mind was very hard to follow, as it bounced from idea to idea, much like how conversations with regular young children were often nonsensical.
Seeing as the Spirit World creature hadn’t raised any concerns over the angel’s apparent quest for answers, the Fool had decided to leave him to it. ‘He’ still left a marionette behind to monitor the situation before disappearing to seek out the other wayward angel.
Zhou Mingrui quickly swapped places with the marionette who had been keeping watch over Amon.
The little girl, Amon’s host, sat huddled, back against a wall, wide-eyed across from a closed door. The side of her face had begun to swell, her knees scraped. The room was small, cramped, filled wall to wall with junk. A closet. Barely enough room to fit the little angel, let alone the god who had materialized. The Fool quickly turned illusory, lest ‘He’ send the objects crashing down on the little angel.
‘He’ quietly cursed Grisha for discouraging ‘His’ constant use of divination for ‘His’ every move. ‘He’ could’ve easily foreseen this scene earlier with its usage.
The closet’s door itself was less a door than just a simple scrap piece of wood covering the opening to the main room. From beyond the crude door, the god could hear a man's rough voice loudly berating a woman, interspersed with clear sounds of hands hitting flesh, punches, slaps. A feminine cry and a thud. Kicking. More yelling. Pained cries. Begging.
A quick burst of Blind Stupidity targeted at the room’s inhabitants brought the violence to a halt.
The god swiftly parsed through the thoughts racing across the little angel’s mind, who was still sitting there motionless.
A memory.
A few minutes prior.
“Mama, mama!” a childish voice squeaked, “Why don’t I look like papa?”
The couple froze. The girl - Amon, had asked a question they had all silently swore to never ask.
The man, the girl’s father, had always had his doubts over her lineage. She simply didn’t resemble him at all!
From her quick-tempered nature, to odd bursts of curious inquisition, to her physical appearance - bouncy curls instead of his stock straight hair, nothing of the girl was his.
In fact, she rather resembled the young man next door, with his dark messy hair and love of pursuing knowledge rather than a steady income!
The man felt his doubts and fury boil within him, the many years of holding them back finally reaching their limit at the girl’s innocent question.
The woman, who knew her husband’s doubts, who had explained countless times that the curls came from her mother’s side of the family, who had all tragically passed away before the couple had met, rose in front of her daughter.
The daughter’s fiery temper clearly came from the man who had also risen from his seat, as his face reddened in fury, fists balling at his sides.
With a rough shove, the mother was thrown to the ground away from her daughter.
A hard backhand, and the little girl was thrown to the side, cheek throbbing in pain.
The young angel inhabiting her body froze. He in all his mischievousness, had never faced such a scenario.
The mother, reacting quickly, pushed the shell-shocked girl into the hole the family used as a crude sort of storage, before firmly moving a rough plank to block the entrance.
Present
The god, grim understanding dawning upon ‘Him,’ considered ‘His’ next options.
The current era and its laws did allow ‘Him’ to directly intervene in human lives. However the end results would often be twisted as if the world itself protested at the meddling.
The god sighed, ‘His’ diminishing humanity had let ‘Him’ know that the current scenario was most likely to have happened regardless of the incitement by the curious little angel. It might not have resulted in such explosive and sudden violence, but the father’s doubts had clearly been festering for an extended period of time.
Humanity hadn’t changed much, even as the old world disappeared, being replaced by the current epochs.
Zhou Mingrui shook ‘His’ head in pity. ‘He’ didn’t want to let the full consequences of the angel’s actions play out in front of his eyes, regardless of the need for the angel to understand them. ‘He’ pitied the mother and the girl who had been unwillingly pulled into this play.
‘His’ mind made up, the god softly called the angel’s brother.
Adam, upon hearing his name, quickly materialized beside his huddled brother. He had simply been people watching in the bustling marketplace nearby. The townsfolk parting around his figure like water around a rock, never quite understanding why they stepped just so around an empty space.
He looked down at his frozen brother, before looking up at the incorporeal Mr. Fool.
“Distract the man in the other room, get him to leave,” instructed the Fool, before ‘He’ sternly added, “Do not enter the room, do not look behind the man.”
The little Angel of Imagination, with his heightened abilities of observation, quickly had an inkling of what had transpired. He knew Mr. Fool’s instructions were intended to shield him from what lay in the other room, even though the deity knew the little angel was already aware.
Adam nodded his head, acknowledging Mr. Fool’s words, before quickly disappearing.
A solid knock sounded from the room's front door.
A hushed voice, Adam’s, in the guise of an older man, crept into the still room as the angry father opened the door, making sure to crack it open with just a sliver.
A sense of urgency from Adam. Something about the building’s water supply.
The man, responsible for a litany of odd jobs around the decrepit building, found the message to be normal, not suspicious.
Reasonable.
The man left.
A few moments of silence.
The woman moved from her place on the ground. She gingerly slid the crude door away from the closet where her daughter sat crouched.
Her face was bruised, swollen. A smeared streak of blood on the side of her mouth. Her arm clutched her ribs tightly, small pants of pain emitting from her mouth.
But still she smiled gently at her frightened daughter. Her eyes filled with pain, but with unmistakable warmth.
She opened her arms, cradling the child to her bosom. Petting her hair soothingly.
The two stood slowly.
They left.
The shabby room, the silent witness to the violence, stood empty, awaiting the man’s eventual return.
Upon his return, he had no urge to pursue the duo.
A reasonable response, for he was tired.
The battered mother and daughter duo had reached the nearby church. Passersby merely glanced at their disheveled appearances before turning away quickly. Their appearance was something common in this district. They did not want to get involved.
The church’s staff, upon seeing the two, quickly rushed towards them. Soft blankets were thrown over the two, before they were gently ushered to a back room.
A doctor was called to check over the two. The mother’s ribs were bruised, not broken, the area already turning an angry purplish tone. They, and the other physical wounds would heal with time.
An older woman, her face warm and kind, entered the room after all the initial hustle bustle died down. She did not ask about what transpired. She asked what the two wanted to do next. Where they wanted to go.
The mother was still in a daze from the quick succession of events, she had used up all her energy to get her daughter away from that man. The daughter was still silent, wide eyes looking at everything, yet nothing.
The older woman gazed at the silent duo in pity, before decisively leading them to another room. The fireplace crackled merrily in the corner, driving away the chill. A soft bed lay in the corner, inviting in its plushness.
A few soft instructions - where to find the bathroom, where to find her if the two needed her for any reason, and reassurances that the two were safe and free to stay as long as they needed, and the gentle woman left the two in the room alone.
They stood there silently for who knows how long.
The daughter, who was still Amon, moved first.
He tugged the girl’s mother towards the bed, taking care to not aggravate her injuries.
The two settled in, sinking into the softest bed they had ever encountered.
Before long, the mother drifted off into a tentative fitful slumber. Exhausted but still pumped full of adrenaline that had yet to taper off.
Zhou Mingrui materialized beside the bed, the god had been following the duo closely, creating small miracles along the way to ease their journey.
‘He’ had already sent Adam back to Sefirah Castle to wait while ‘He’ dealt with the aftermath of Amon’s actions.
A quiet snap of ‘His’ fingers, and the pain from the mother and daughter’s injuries lessened, dulling to a slight throb. The god couldn’t completely erase the injuries, not without suspicion from the church falling upon the two, but ‘He’ could ease their pain and speed up recovery.
The god turned to the little girl, Amon, who had deliberately evened out his breath to lull the mother to sleep.
A Worm of Time left the little girl’s body, before Amon’s true form burst back into existence. His shoulders slumped dejectedly, his head hanging low, completely avoiding the god’s gaze.
The god sighed, before using one of Amanises’ charms to lull the little girl, free from parasitism, and the mother, into a deeper, more restful sleep.
‘His’ attempts at damage control now complete, ‘He’ placed a gentle hand on the little angel’s shoulder, which had stiffened at the contact, before pulling the two back into Sefirah Castle.
Above the grey fog, Sefirah Castle.
The Fool sat in ‘His’ throne, legs crossed, patiently waiting for the little Angel of Time to break the silence.
The little angel stood before ‘His’ throne, feet shuffling back and forth nervously. The small movements stirred up the pervasive grey fog, swirling around him.
Adam stood next to the Fool, a trickle of fear running down his spine. For once he was unsure of the god’s next move. The god had always been gentle towards the two, regardless of their lack of tact and curiosity, patiently answering any and all their questions in ‘His’ own way. ‘He’ had never exhibited behaviours that would cause Adam to be afraid.
But then again, Amon had never messed up this much.
Adam was aware of the god’s love for humanity, despite ‘His’ evident struggle with striking a balance between it and ‘His’ divinity.
The little Angel of Imagination knew that his Father and the Evernight Goddess, who often teased Mr. Fool, were secretly worried about ‘His’ humanity, worried that the Fool would tip too far towards one end of the spectrum, leading to ‘His’ loss of control.
Adam knew that Amon’s physical appearance was linked to the two meddling gods’ concerns.
He knew all of this, but still he feared for his brother.
The Fool was an unknown ancient identity. ‘His’ authorities stemmed straight from mystery. Regardless of ‘His’ gentle demeanour, ‘He’ was still one of the most powerful deities in existence.
Who knew what such a deity could do when angered.
A small sniffle snapped Adam back from his worried musings.
His brother’s narrow shoulders had begun to shake minutely, as he was attempting to muffle his sobs.
A sigh.
The weeping angel lifted his head to look at the otherwise silent deity. Tears pooled at his eyes before spilling down his cheeks. His tears gathered at his chin, before plopping down into the grey fog below him.
Another sigh, and the Fool uncrossed ‘His’ legs.
The angel tensed.
The Fool gestured towards the crying angel to approach ‘Him.’
Amon walked forward, hesitantly, fearfully.
When he was within reach, a small gasp broke free from his mouth as the Fool delicately lifted the small angel into ‘His’ lap.
A pause.
Warm arms tentatively embraced the teary angel, pushing him into ‘His’ chest. A gentle hand patted the angel’s dark locks, soothing him.
A more audible sob burst from the angel’s mouth as all the emotions he had been holding back spilled over - fear, shock, anxiety, pain, sorrow.
“Mr. F-Fool,” he cried, stuttering as the sobs wracked his little body, “I-I’m- I’m sorry!!!”
Zhou Mingrui hushed the distraught angel as ‘He’ continued to comfort him. ‘He’ knew ‘He’ shouldn’t be so tenderhearted towards the mischievous angel this time, but couldn’t stop ‘Himself’ when confronted with such a pitiful sight.
‘He’ felt ‘His’ cloak turn damp from where the angel had buried his face after his admission of guilt, and resolved to broach the topic when the angel had calmed down.
The god could sense that the angel truly held remorse over what had transpired, not a lick of deceit evident on his tear streaked face.
Before long, the sobs and hiccups died down. The angel had fallen asleep against the Fool’s chest, exhausted.
As Zhou Mingrui shifted the child to rest more comfortably against ‘Him,’ a question sounded from beside the throne.
Adam, who had been observing the whole scenario play out, secretly relieved that he didn’t need to doubt the god’s benevolence, asked, “Mr. Fool, is it bad to be curious?”
The Fool paused ‘His’ soothing strokes down Amon’s back. ‘He’ turned ‘His’ head slightly to make eye contact with the other angel’s innocent eyes.
“Curiosity is an inherently human trait,” ‘He’ began. “But you must exercise restraint.”
‘He’ glanced down at the slumbering angel.
“Some questions aren’t worth asking or worth knowing the answer to.”
Adam tilted his head in consideration. “Then how do we know when to stop?”
Zhou Mingrui mulled over his question. ‘He’ couldn’t answer with “human instinct” seeing as the angel was a full Mythical Creature regardless of his Spectator abilities that gave him more humanity than his brother.
“You have to consider harm. Will asking that question bring you, or other people harm? Will knowing the answer do the same?”
“Why are you asking the question? Is it to simply sate your own curiosity?” ‘He’ continued.
Zhou Mingrui turned back to the angel who hung onto ‘His’ every word, considering them.
“For you, and your Spectator abilities, you are privy to more knowledge and inner thoughts than your brother and I. We only have access to surface level musings,” ‘He’ said in reference to ‘His’ and Amon’s abilities to steal thoughts.
“This means that someday you will dig too far, willingly or unwillingly, and learn something about someone you do not want to know,” ‘He’ explained.
“Your other abilities can balance out this knowledge,” the god added, “but your psyche will remember. And you can still encounter unknown corruption.”
“It’s not black and white. Curiosity has its time and place.”
Adam nodded slowly, ruminating over Mr. Fool’s explanation. He committed every word to his memory, vowing to share it with his ever inquisitive brother.
“Thank you for your guidance Mr. Fool.”
Zhou Mingrui smiled gently at the angel.
‘He’ stood up, cradling the still sleeping Angel of Time against ‘His’ chest securely, before offering ‘His’ free hand to the other angel.
The god entered the Creator’s Divine Kingdom, uncaring of the panic ‘He’ had thrown Grisha’s residence into, angels diving out of ‘His’ way, doors slamming in a hurry.
‘He’ swiftly approached the brothers’ room, pushing open the grand door. ‘He laid the slumbering angel upon his bed, tenderly brushing away the angel’s hair that had fallen across his forehead before straightening up.
“I will keep an eye on Amon Mr. Fool,” Adam promised.
The Fool smiled, merely shook ‘His’ head at the little angel who had made the earnest promise. “That’s your father’s job, not yours.”
With that, ‘He’ bid a soft farewell to the two brothers and quickly materialized in front of the Creator in ‘His’ meeting room.
The entire hall froze. The angels who had run from the Fool had gathered here, urgently notifying their Lord about ‘His’ unannounced presence in the residence.
The Creator smiled, ‘He’ had already known that ‘His’ friend would be visiting and had simply elected to not warn ‘His’ council.
Grisha had already been aware of the events involving ‘His’ wayward brat the moment the mother and daughter duo had stepped foot in the church. After all, the church was one dedicated to ‘Him.’ How could the omnipotent and omniscient Sun God not be aware of an angel, ‘His’ son no less, and another god stepping foot into ‘His’ territory.
A silent dismissal, and the angels left in a flurry of chaos and panic. They were simply glad to be exempted from witnessing whatever tense conversation the terrifying Fool would be having with their Lord.
On that day, the little angels learned about curiosity.
On the same day, the Creator discovered how creative the Fool could get when ‘He’ was truly furious.