Excerpt: Title TBD

The burst of darkness disoriented him. Argyros was a bright place of shining silver and constant light that bounced off every surface to create a gray-white sky that never faded. But here, suddenly, was the nothingness that existed outside the sacred space.
He’d never been outside before.
The blue orb of the world floated below him. He was familiar with Durandios’ work, with the life on the planet, although he’d never before had any use for the animals that inhabited it. Well, he determined, he wouldn’t have use for them now either. They were the whole reason he was in trouble to begin with.
Just as he’d become accustomed to the chilling darkness, he felt the light and heat begin to increase rapidly. He gritted his teeth and prepared for what was sure to be a hard landing.

Long after the others had lost interest and turned away, gone back to their duties, Amaurodios still stood at the edge of Argyros.
“I don’t know what you’re hoping to see,” a voice behind him said.
Amaurodios didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was; he threw himself on his knees so quickly his forehead smacked hard against the slick silver ground. But because it was Argyros, there was no pain.
“Get up, Am,” said Durandios.
Am scrambled to his feet, flailing to keep his balance on the slippery foundation. It didn’t help that he seemed to be the one Ninata that lacked any kind of natural grace.
Keeping his head bowed so that the masses of his long, silver-white hair curtained his face, Amaurodios turned towards the Enduring. Durandios was the one colorful creature in all of Argyros, a flower in a crystal room. He wore a white cloak that was held on his left shoulder with a vivid red jewel, giving everything around him a rosy tint. He had skin the color of the human creatures he had given life to on the world below them, the world that Seladion now also occupied.
“Are you crying?” The question was not soft-spoken, but neither was it a rebuke. Perhaps surprise was the force behind the words.
Amaurodios looked up in confusion. “Crying?” he echoed.
But Durandios was nodding. “You are.” His expression was grim. “That kind of emotion cannot be tolerated in Argyros.”

Am still wasn’t entirely sure what Durandios meant, but he understood emotion. The Ninatat had access to a limited number of them. Love and joy were favorites, along with compassion and mercy. But Seladion had been cast out for harboring the kinds of feelings unsuitable in a Ninata. And now. . .
Another new emotion lit Amaurodios’ eyes. Fear. “Are you going to. . . ?”
Durandios shook his head. “No.” He sighed. “I wish you never had to know heartbreak, Am. Most of the others,” he gestured towards the center of Argyros, where the Ninatat spent their days praising Tithendion and Durandios and where a select few served special purposes, such as taking messages to the people of the world below, “will never know such a feeling. They will love forever without that love being taken from them. I wish it could be that way for you.”
Amaurodios knew that Durandios was incapable of lying. So he asked the question. “He can’t ever come back, can he?”
“He was tainted, Am. He was imperfect, flawed in some way.” Durandios’ green eyes darkened a shade, and he frowned. Such an unlovely sight on a god. The stone that clasped his cloak became the red-purple color of dark wine.
“Not was,” Amaurodios whispered. “You could fix him, couldn’t you?”
“You think I didn’t want to? Of course I did! I do! But that’s not for me to do. Tithendion made him; I only gave him breath.”
Amaurodios looked over his shoulder, out at the darkness beyond Argyros. A whole vast universe existed out there, none of it seemingly safe for orphaned Ninatat. “I want to go too.”
Without looking, Am sensed the complete stillness in the god that stood before him, a dangerous tension. There was a long exhalation of the precious breath Durandios provided to all living things.
“Amaurodios, look at me.”
Am slowly turned his head. Durandios could not kill him, it was not in his nature, but Amaurodios was frightened all the same.
Durandios placed his hands on Amaurodios’ shoulders and looked the Ninata in the eye.
“You haven’t thought this through,” the god said carefully.
“I want to be with Seladion. He needs me! He won’t know how to cope, being down there—”
Durandios chuckled. “Seladion has never needed anyone, and you know it. And how is it that you think you’ll be able to cope? No, Am, you’re much better off here. I promise you, the pain of his leaving won’t last forever.” He turned to go.
“I’m flawed too, aren’t I, now?” Amaurodios called as a parting shot.
Durandios whirled around as the Vital Spark began to darken to near black. “Amaurodios, do not test me.”
“But you said that this—this—whatever it is I’m feeling, it can’t be tolerated in Argyros.”
“You’ll get over it and everything will be fine,” Durandios replied tightly.
A couple of yards away, other Ninatat had begun to gather. It was no secret that Amaurodios was Durandios’ favorite, even if the god was not free to show such preference. The only being that seemed not to know this was Amaurodios.
“I don’t want to feel this way; I don’t like it,” Am said rather childishly.
“I know.” Durandios started towards the Ninata. “But it will pass.”
Amaurodios shook his head. “I don’t think it will.”
“It seems that way now, but—Am, what are you doing?”
The Ninata had turned back toward the wall of Argyros and was now exploring it with his long, thin hands, testing it for weakness. He pushed at it, willing it to break, but it was elastic, moving always to enclose him.
In three steps Durandios had reached him and pulled him back. “What are you doing?” he asked again, giving Am a shake. The watching Ninatat gasped softly; it sounded like a flock of pigeons cooing.
“Let me out!”
“No.”
As the hand on his shoulder tightened, Amaurodios slumped in defeat. “Please,” he said, “let me go.”
The grip on him relaxed, and suddenly all he knew was darkness.

Was his body human? He didn’t know, but surely he could no longer be Ninatana. When he opened his eyes, he found himself looking up into the dizzying heights of trees, their leaves a myriad of greens. The sky showing through the branches was vividly blue, not at all like the iridescence he was accustomed to, and the sunlight that streamed forth when one of the trees danced in the wind and unmasked it hurt his eyes.
Amaurodios sat up slowly, every body part aching and protesting as he did so. Had he hit that hard? No, but not being used to any kind of discomfort, the few bruises he did have were almost more than he was able to bear.
He discovered that Durandios had at least seen fit to clothe him; the robes were silky, not unlike Ninatat robes, but dark instead of silver, although trimmed in a silvery pale blue. He had sandals, too, and he twitched his toes thoughtfully, squinting when the next burst of sunlight spilled over him but glad for the warmth of it when a breeze pushed its way through the trees and found him.
Something brushed his arm, and he was startled by the thick darkness that suddenly obscured his view of anything on his left. Was he blind in one eye then? He reached over and grabbed the dark thing, yelping when he yanked his own hair.
Black hair? Amaurodios sniffed in distaste, thinking that perhaps Durandios had overstated the case against him. Then immediately felt guilty for thinking such a thing. Then again, what could Durandios do to him now? Durandios the Enduring: Master of the Argyrian Realms, Ruler of Steorra, Prince of the World, Beloved of Tithendion, Life Incarnate. What could he do to Am now? Oh, probably quite a lot.
With concentration and effort, Amaurodios was able to get his legs under him. He stood shakily and wobbled a bit, instinctively throwing his arms out to either side of him to maintain his balance. After some practice the arms came down and Am began to walk. He had no idea where he was or where he was going, but it seemed better to go than to stay.
As he walked, Am peered through the trees, hoping to spot Seladion. Of course, there was no reason why Durandios should have landed him so close to his goal; Durandios didn’t like Seladion, and now Amaurodios was relatively sure Durandios didn’t like him either. Then a sound caught his attention, a sound like many soft voices talking all at once. Am moved towards it and came upon a river.
The water cut through the forest like a swift, clean blade. Amaurodios approached it carefully, not wanting to frighten it away. “Hello,” he murmured. “I’m sorry, but can you speak one at a time? I can’t understand you.”
“Amaurodios. You always were a twit.”
Am spun around so quickly he nearly tipped over. “Seladion!”
As beautiful as ever, the ex-Ninata leaned against a tree, his arms folded over his chest. He looked almost the same as he had before his fall, with long silvery white hair and white robes too. But whereas Ninatat had silver eyes, Seladion’s were now a bright green.
“I wasn’t sure I’d be able to find you,” Amaurodios said. “If you could just keep it down,” he added to the water rushing behind him.
“You don’t know anything about this world, do you?” Seladion asked.
“Not really, but neither do you, so—”
“Oh, I know plenty. I’ve been watching it since the day Durandios gave me breath. No one else has been paying attention, but I have.
“That, by the way, is a river. It won’t answer you because it doesn’t talk.”
“But how do you know that?” Amaurodios asked helplessly. “You’ve never been outside Argyros before now.”
“There are ways of knowing things,” Seladion answered, “if you know where to look to find out. To be tossed out just for having some additional knowledge,” he added with a sniff. He took a couple steps forward and tilted his head thoughtfully. “And you? What did you do to earn a one-way trip to this ridiculous world?”
“Well, I—I don’t know. I asked for it, really, and Durandios said no and then he shoved me off.”
“Shoved you off?”
“Yes. Right off the edge of Argyros.”
“You’re saying you wanted to come here? And Durandios didn’t want you to. And then, without any warning whatsoever, he tossed you out?” When Am nodded, Seladion shook his head. “So fickle,” he murmured.
“I’m glad I found you anyway,” Amaurodios said, taking a couple of clumsy steps forward.
“I found you.”
“Yes, well, either way I wasn’t sure we’d be anywhere near one another.”
“It’s called physics,” Seladion told him. “I assume you fell from roughly the same spot they booted me from?”
“Yes, I was standing right there,” Amaurodios admitted.
“Then why wouldn’t you land in about the same place as I did?”
“. . . Oh.”
“You can’t attribute every good thing to being blessed by Durandios. And you can’t blame every bad thing on Telamenos. Or yourself.”
Amaurodios dropped his eyes to the deep pile of vividly green grass that surrounded him. Its soft, cool beauty was a good thing, and it was a creation of Durandios, but Am knew better than to mention it right then.
“Come on, then,” Seladion said, turning west into the sinking sun. In Am’s mind they were turning their backs on the darkness that was trying to swallow them.