Family was if anything, a difficult thing for Ozzet. He had a mother in the most unreal traditional sense, and yet he hadn't been one to visit or make it to family dinners; if they even had that sort of thing. He was the Rosenite the others really didn't know about, course' it's not something that's come up in conversation too often either. When Oz had first crossed realms he was excited. A new place to terrorize, a new land to find punchlines for and actually punch in the most physical sense as he was known for doing. The problem was however; his magic didn't make the cross with him, and that was a little over eighty years ago. Time was a funny thing, and it decided on a whimsy to simply backhand him. Just deserts? Some might think that, yet it was one of those things Ozzet didn't find the least bit amusing, much like losing his magic. 

In the olden land, he was a force of nature. A fluid sort of madness that didn't take no nonsense from anyone except himself. Memories of his past climbed through his mind as he crossed the field, clutching his scabbard and sword in his left hand, fingers strumming along the side as he glanced up the hill towards the marble archway. He had to admit, the thing he missed the most was being able to go anywhere at any time; sometimes two places at once for whatever it was worth. His mother, and his family crossed his mind while he paced up the hill. He had barely seen her before she became a goddess, and sure as hell didn't visit her after the ascension. Why? Well, it's not easy being a bastard, takes a lot of time to prefect. Coming to a stop he glanced to the red roses around the arch, and blinked. Only raising a brow to the change he had missed; the roses were now black. "Oh, yeah this bodes well.." He mumbled to himself, eyes narrowed in minor annoyance as he pressed forward through the archway and began his descent home. 

Though the old land and it's magic had broken his mind, without that absolute power to corrupt him, he actually had to play by the laws of the land. Past the phase of painting his face like a jester because he could and killing people for sheer enjoyment; he had grown up in a matter of speaking, and without the auspice of his craft his body had begun to actually grow into it's self. Things had changed, a lot. Eighty damned years will do that to a person. The main thing going through his mind was Why the hell did it take the others so long to show up, those spacial rifts were everywhere. Did they not get the message? Did they just sit there for eighty or so years without getting curious? And why am I being swarmed by fireflies, piss off! He grumbled, echoing his frustration as he glanced around. If anything, the theatrics were something him and his mother shared at one point. Was all this really necessary? Pressing on he didn't even glance back when he heard the voice of a child behind him, a girl maybe? "Daddy!" Ozzet kept walking. "No, fuckle off, kiddo." Though he wasn't any sort of wizard anymore; he knew an illusion when he saw one and that little bastard was a pretty good one. "B-but." the voice said, and Oz just shook his head. "Swear to hell, kid. I will stick you in a crate and ship you to Tarishitar, where you'll make shoes for the rest of your sad, little life." After that, there was only silence. "That's what I thought." And with those words, the prodigal son was on his way home.   

Something was coming.

Something new but yet old.

Like a book that was new to her but had been read a thousand times before.

Brown eyes glittered up towards the sky as visions entered her head of what was to come. The visions were always so vague. Her mother told her this was her gift but it was also a curse if she did not watch out. Not all things she would see were to be her friends. With a flower crown upon her head she began to walk the opposite direction of the steps towards the temple. She walked through the salt flats and imagined herself walking on the skies above.

She danced and she twirled but then she stopped once more. It smelled good. It smelled nostalgic. Her bare feet splashed through the water as she chased an invisible quest. Climbing through the crystal she made it to the archway and breathed heavily before crossing over. Looking out into the pitch blackness and then towards the statue of her mother she ran.

She heard someone talking and she could see them down the stairs. The nostalgic feeling got closer and felt deeper in her heart. She finally stopped on a step just ahead of him. Her brown eyes to his. “What is a fuckle? Is it like f*ck because Momma says that a lot when she gets mad and she says I shouldn't say it.” Every time he would walk she would walk backwards as she had done many times before.

“You smell like an old book but you also smell like Momma.” The red curls on her head bounced up and down as she continued walking with him. “Are you here to see Mama? For a wish or a girlfriend? Or maybe cause you smell like Mama you want her instead? Lots of men come to claim Mama as their treasure.” She liked to talk but she stopped and focused on him. “Mama talked about you a little bit. She asked me if you were coming soon. She's been waiting a long time.” 

Children, why? 

He came to a slow as the wee one bounced her way towards him; this one wasn't an illusion but the more she babbled on and on he couldn't help but to think back on that crate and the wonderful life of shoe making the child could have. Slowly he answered her questions, sometimes quite a few words behind her's. "Fuckle is nothing like Fuck, in fact, you should say that word all the time; both of em' actually." Ozzet, world class role model right there. "No, you smell like an old book. Git' outta here, yer botherin' me." He sighed, closing his eyes and trying to hold as much patience as he possibly could, though at the same time he found himself thinking back on old habits. What would the old Ozzet do? Certainly not argue with a child, yet the thoughts were short lived as the onslaught of questions continued like a bell that wouldn't stop ringing. 

Sucking in a breath through his nose he reached up with his free hand, scratching at his horns as he walked in pace with the wee one. "Yes." Was all he said in response to him seeing his mother. "Yes, again, wish you far away. No, to the girlfriend unless you mean Slevet from the tavern in south Nisshoki. That was just a thing between consenting adults, a fun thing." He raised a brow as the child rambled on about him wanting Angela for himself "Ew, no.." Was all he could say to that effect. The pair walked on and on, and the child never stopped for even a moment. "Do they now?" He said, focusing on the stairs ahead. "Got a list of names?" He asked in a more threatening tone than before. Yet the last question, it lingered with him. Coming to a stop he tilted his head down finally meeting the childs gaze. "She was waiting because I was here, not there. I want to know why they're just now coming over here." 

Ozzet leaned down to her level, setting his scabbard next to him. "Now, let's play a game; it's called twenty words." He reached up, placing a hand on the top of her head. "You have twenty more words to speak, after that, I roll you down these stairs alllllll- the way to the bottom, okay?" He smiled as plainly as he could before tapping her forehead. "Boop." Picking his his scabbard he slid around the child and continued on about his way up those forsaken stairs. 

They're just annoying, and they don't even know it. 

Those brown eyes looked mischievously up at him as if she knew he was lying to her. Walking with him she kept his pace and found it to be a fun little game they could have. He sounded annoyed but it was all the better reason she was with him. She had sensed his coming way before he had. “Old books smell good though.” She said as if it was meant as a compliment.


There was that look again from her as he talked about Slevet from south Nisshoki. “You mean sex. You should say sex unless it was not sex. I hear my sisters talking about it all the time. Well not the same ones all the time but I have lots of sisters. Mama says there's over twenty of us and I think that's a big number. Mama says that's the average number of fingers and toes people have! Unless you are bad and lose a hand or maybe your legs.” She jumped up the stairs now.


She gave him a smile. “Mama says dead men don't need names and that she is not a conquest they can conquer.” Finally their eyes met and she gave him a smile. “Here is not there. There is not here. But what was there is now here. Timedeath and the void. She'll have answers for you.” She gave him a cute smile. “I heard her say that before to someone who asked a similar question. I was peeking in through the throne room doors and I overheard her.”



She gave him a smile when he got on her level. “Roll me down. Push me down. I'll just come right back up and ask you more questions!” She followed him after that. Finally they got to the archway and she looked up at him. “Mama is waiting for you at the very end. This is the first trial of many. You did it. You passed the first one.” She ran through the gate and disappeared into the crystal caverns.