Lord of Change – Part 7

Ouran gazed at the sand beneath his feet, feeling the grains between his toes. He had assumed the form of a young human for this outing, with dark black hair and deeply tanned skin. He knew that if he looked in the water he would see a black mask around his eyes – it was the only thing he couldn’t change anymore, which he supposed was okay. He liked the mask. Simple, but striking.

Besides, he’d learned since then what he’d gotten in exchange: Not only were his transformations more stable, simpler to pull off and less tiring, but all of reality was his to shift and change.

“So what happens now?”

He looked down and to his left to see Sihlk, in the form of a wolf with hooves for some reason, trotting alongside him with light purple fur. Her ears flopped around a bit while she stared up at him, awaiting an answer from the newborn god.

Ouran shrugged. “I really don’t know.” He admitted. “I mean, I guess I’m supposed to… go out and use this power, right?”

She cocked an eyebrow, making it glow luminescent for dramatic effect. “Shouldn’t you do what you wanna?”

“Yes, Sihlk, that’s the problem. It’s not like I want to sit around and do nothing, but I honestly have no idea what to do. I’m free of my past, but I have no idea what to do for the future.” They turned and moved off of the beach, further inland towards the forest

“Make Althra a grave?”

“I hated her.”

“With her name changed to ‘Moron McWitchenstein?”

“Too much work for too crude a joke.”

She shifted into a horse. “Declare war on Creator-Father-Mother?”


“I dunno. Seems like fun.”


“For you, I mean. I’d still be on its side.”

“Gee Sihlk, suggesting I go get myself killed for fun and adding you’ll be trying to kill me too. You’re a great friend.”

Sihlk shrugged. “Turn into a school?”

“I’ve lived maybe a year, I shouldn’t be teaching anyone.”

“I meant the building.”

“I don’t wanna sit down in one place for a year with a bunch of bratty messy children inside me.”

“Well, we could go look after the human tribe we left behind? With Althra gone, they might be willing to worship you.

“Ehhhh… Even if I liked the idea of worship, I’d be kind of a bad leader.”

“True.” Sihlk admitted, raising a hand to her chin as she stood up onto two legs. “How about we just go someplace?”

Ouran sighed and looked down. “Go where? I know nothing of the world…” He cocked an eyebrow. “And for whatever reason you won’t tell me?”

“What fun would that be?” Sihlk frowned, sprouting a tentacle to rub at her chin. “Ya know, I’ve heard that in the north, when a person has lost their whole past and has no future worth mentioning, they go out onto what’s called Bjor’Pered…” She bounced, suddenly grinning broadly. “Yeah!!! ‘Wander like our goal’! We’ll go a-wanderin’, righting wrongs and telling stories of what we see! We’ll have our ups and downs, and get to be utter hams with cheesy lines like ‘At the end of the day, we’ve all seen the sun set’! It’ll be great!”


“If you have to ask ‘why’ you’ve missed the point already.” Sihlk grinned.

“I mean, why are you coming with me?”

Sihlk blinked. “Cuz you’re my friend.”

“So you’ll go off on a journey of who-knows-how-long… because I’m your friend?”

“Of course not. That’s why I’m going with you.” She stuck out her tongue.

Ouran blinked twice, then smirked. “You’re strange.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

Ouran’s smirk turned into a warm smile. “No.”

And so Sihlk, the first Bard, and Ouran, the Lord of Change, began their journeys… Their adventures were many and their exploits legendary. From the calming of the Revenant Storm to dethroning of the Witch-Queen, these two friends would conquer problems mundane and fantastic across the world… but such are tales for another day.

For now, such is the origin of the Wandering God and Sihlk the Bard. 

It may even be true.

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