Kali was created out of a giant purple crystal, extracted from a now long-forgotten behemoth. It is not something usually done. Most often such crystals are painstakingly cut, and multiple kindred are born at the same time.
Diligent as ever, Maker's scholars tended to write down the names, dates, and even Maker's own words soon upon creation of each new life through the Genesis process. She has read once how, around the time of her own birth(about a century ago), Maker almost lamented making Kali, saying, ''I took too much, I took too much.''
What he meant by those words he would not say, not to her, not to anyone.
Did he regret creating her? Did he not love her, the way he does all other crystalborn? Even when not roaming the Western Equiya—Theia knows where—Maker is here near her, but not really here. Often locked away deep inside his library, a world of paper and bound leather.
Behemoths came from the ocean(a world-sea of perpetual turmoil). Naturally, Kali created and implemented a forewarning system whereby almost the entire coast of Dontium was watched for the appearance of these gigantic beasts. She wanted the system to remain active always, but Maker, as ever, had to argue against her wishes. His reasoning was sound. Behemothic attacks happened roughly once every eight years, and there was no reason, therefore, to maintain it indefinitely. The strain on resources, he argued, would simply be too great. Of course, to the chagrin of many kindred close to Maker, she challenged him on the issue until he agreed for a third of the Western Equiya's coast to be constantly monitored at any time. If the sometimes-inconsistent eight-year pattern were to dramatically change, the army best be prepared.
After the skirmish in the Ardorium Arena, Kali feared Maker might find her actions discourteous—a trait Maker often found to be the most execrable one. But she noticed no change, Maker always was and continued to be kind to her.
She understood not why, but this lack of change made Kali angry.
Not much for carousals—mainly consisting of hugging, kissing, loud laughter, and dancing—Kali preferred to hone her ''path of the blade.'' This is how she called it(a descriptor she never uttered). Her own personal quest of achieving true perfection in the matter of bladesmanship.
She mastered the scythe utterly, decades ago, and other weapons are but her plaything now.
Despite this, Kali pondered that true perfection is unattainable; nevertheless, it was not about the ending but the journey itself, the passionate questing for that unobtainable.
Maker would sometimes disappear for weeks or even months, and it would befall on Kali, a great burden, to be his will; an imperatrix of Dontium. The supreme commander of all the legions and keeper of peace. Kali often disliked bureaucracy involving the running of the Five Cities and the myriad towns and small settlements, but it could not be helped. Maker did not ask, he expected her to perform her duty flawlessly.
Am I just a seneschal unto his eyes? Kali thought.
An avid reader of all works history, Kali sometimes wondered how humans so adequately managed the undertaking of running their kingdoms and empires. They seem to have been primitive and weak—millions of mouths always in need of food and water(a logistical nightmare, that must have been).
And yet, Maker admired them. Their achievements at least. Oh, he would never admit this, of course, but she knew Maker, she knew him better than most, even knew the name the humans have bestowed upon him. Despite the obliteration he did to humankind, he admired their civilizational achievements, passionately using those as a platform for the world-realm of kindred.
Quietly, Kali herself did her own research and learned that Scholar Magnus of Vantium the Seventh and Scholar Nikolaos of Vantium were some of the most knowledgeable experts when it came to humans, and more importantly they were known not to gossip. She indeed hoped this reconnoitering will go largely unremarked.
Scholar Nikolaos is acknowledged to be reclusive, living somewhere southward. Beyond the Xanadu mountain range.
This left her with Scholar Magnus. A preferable choice, perhaps.
Scholar Magnus is somewhat of an artificer, known for making custom-made tools and ingenious devices to measure time. Both for himself and other kindred.
Kali could have easily summoned the scholar to her imposing chateau, at any time of her choosing. However, this might not have produced the desired outcome. He might have felt intimidated, becoming less verbose. By coming to him, to his study, Kali did Kindred Magnus a great honor; and, one may feel more talkative if surrounded by a known setting.
''I understand I have the basic shape of a human female but there are some...major differences?'' Kali asks tentatively.
Sometimes, like now, her clear purple eyes had an intimidating edge to them.
Once, Kali overheard one of the kindred describe how the mere act of conversing with Kali made them feel small, as if regarded by the eyes of a bird of prey. She had the respect of all, veneration of most, admiration of some, but never love. Not truly. Not the way Maker had. He was beloved by all. Possessor of that quasi-filial love burning in the eyes of millions; beast and man-shaped, sentient and not.
Kali knew all this and tried to relax her sitting posture, and even smile a little.
''Yes, human females had protrusions at the end of their breasts, while yours have smooth skin. Even males of the species had these,'' Scholar Magnus says.
Bipedal crystalborn with large tails, and Scholar Magnus of Vantium certainly included himself in such a group, would with annoying regularity find themselves being bothered by little discomforts while sitting in a chair.
As he sits, his tail hangs down just below the backrest. It dangles behind the scholar. Often unnoticed and found within the numerous of Vantium Core's superb structures, there are many chairs whose backrests have a gap, an opening well-suited for tails of each and every variety.
Scholar Magnus is a green-scaled lizard-like creature. He has thick black tapering horns, a fat tail, four clever, slender fingers on each hand, and three fat feet fingers. All fingers end in little pointy black claws. His bottom teeth are sticking out the bottom sides of his lizard-like mouth.
''And among others,'' Scholar Magnus goes on, ''the major difference between us and humans is we of course lack the ability to have young. Since with us having smooth skin between our legs, we lack the necessary tools to make progeny.'' He notices Kali slightly narrowing her eyes and interprets it as displeasure. ''Obviously, not all is bleak. We show no signs of aging. For example, a human female having your age would look a gray and shriveled thing, like a prune if you will, while your face stays smoother than that aurichalcum armor,'' he says while pointing at her chest—the wraithskin leathery straps of her cuirass looking nearly new.
''We are,'' he continues, ''created by Maker himself and therefore far superior to what humans were. While you could easily reach four hundred years or more, the average human would consider itself fortunate to live roughly a quarter of that. Ha-Ha! I could imagine them giving many chests of hex just to live a mere decade or two longer.''
''Hex?'' Kali asks.
''Yes. It's what they called six-sided crystal chips used as money. The chips were about several times smaller than your palm—just red crystals cut into hexagonal shapes.''
''Money?'' Kali gently dances her graceful fingers across her neck, side to side. ''Ah yes, I've read of these things in the Palace. One group would give sheep, timber, or metals in exchange for more weapons from some other tribe or kingdom.'' Perhaps unaccustomed to using the words aloud, Kali pronounced ''money'' and ''kingdom'' with a slightly lower inflection that the scaly crystalborn found amusing but said nothing of it.
''That was bartering. The basic exchange in their early history. Very primitive, but not really money. Much later they standardized the medium of exchange into alamarium coins or whatever was considered precious for the age. Hex just became the last form money took before their extinction.''
This is good he likes to talk, it will make things easier, Kali thought.
''Tell me more of humans,'' Kali asserts.
''Like sheep, they had to sleep each night. Other than once or twice per forty days, we are free of such animalistic need. Maker himself is probably able to not sleep for years—were he to choose so. And humans also needed to consume solid substances and water, and many foul colorful liquids of squashed fruit, almost each day. How vile. Vile!"
This reminded Kali of the few times she watched Maker with fascination as he was ingesting some liquids. "I have seen Maker drink some red liquid. Wine, he called it."
This took the scholar aback. "Yes... Well, far be it from me to ponder on the nature of Maker's existence; however, Maker is a perfect being. He is beyond what any human was and even beyond what we are. He is able to experience life through his divine lens, seeing and feeling things beyond our comprehension."
''And humans had the ability to join the way animals do?'' Kali asks, returning to the topic of her desire.
Scholar Magnus becomes thoughtful for a moment. He scratches the top of his snout. ''In a way, yes. They were primitive, messy beings. Where we are smooth and strong like stone, humans had a procreation organ. Males had theirs on the outside, and females had theirs protected, on the inside.''
''Like two opposites? Blade and shield. Different, but with common purpose. Or is my reasoning wrong?''
''More like two pieces of a puzzle. They fit together, and eventually, seven months or so after the union, a small human version of the joined adults is produced.''
''General,'' Scholar Magnus proceeds anew, voice unsure, hesitant, ''may I ask a personal question?''
''Yes,'' Kali replies tersely.
''You've mentioned the Palace. It is said the Maker gave you an entire section of the library to use at your pleasure. Is this true?''
Kali was slightly mystified by the question. She saw nothing personal about it. ''It is. A too large of a space for my liking, but only a small segment of the overall library.''
''Ah. I see. I see.''
''Maker is different from us but similar?''
Her poised voice plucks the scholar away from his musing, snapping him back to attention. He hesitates a little but then relaxes. This is not something he would talk about. There are some subjects most kindred simply avoided giving voice to or that are not even considered. However, bearing in mind who he is speaking to, there was no reason to be coy. ''Yes, he is much like us but different. For centuries Maker has had the outward shape and appearance of a human male body at peak youth and physical prowess—a perfect, well-thewed form locked in the prime of life. Like you, Maker is seven feet tall, which is--- was, was the average for a human male. Human females in general tended to have around six and a half feet but this is not set in stone, and sources vary. He even has the lower protrusion of a human male.''
''Like those a sacrificial bull has?'' Kali asks. ''One useless and one used for yellow water to pass.'' Specially-chosen, and the result of centuries-worth of selective breeding, the bulls slaughtered in First Daughter's name are magnificent beasts. Each releasing a torrent of blood upon the kiss of the priest's blade.
''Yes. Although, the useless-looking protrusion is where the seed of the animal is stored.''
''What would be Maker's main distinctions from a human then?'' Kali probes.
Scholar Magnus taps the tip of his smallest claw against his biggest pointed tooth—jutting from his lower jaw, just below his left yellow eye. ''Of course, there are the notable differences in skin and hair color. Humans always came in just a few skin color variants, and none pale blue. Also, they all had a peculiar whiteness on their eyes, not unlike a scared horse might exhibit. Possibly the biggest difference would be that Maker is the most powerful Genesis wielder that ever existed. And of course, he is physically strong.'' He pauses briefly—again as if gripped by some minor discomfort. ''Stronger than even you.''
This made Kali remember how Maker, decades prior, held a behemoth's mouth open—seemingly without too much difficulty. She thought how foolish it was of her to follow him into the wretched beast's maw, how stupid. I would do it again, Kali thought.
Kali did not believe in half-measures. When she commits, she commits. ''So, in the end, Maker could, in theory, join with the body resembling that of a human female, as animals join.''
Silence grips Scholar Magnus of Vantium hard. He pauses, much longer this time and, after regarding her for a few moments more, says, ''Kindred Kali, where are you going with all this?''