Hades ceased the intensive rubbing of his own face and raised his indigo, gnarled hands, curling his fingers.
Aquati, Verda and Ascencis's strikes, the instruments of their squabbling, were frozen in place. Verda's vines became petrified, intertwined, colourless slate, indicative of death. Aquati's turbulent vortex of water stilled and dissipated into an achromatic pool. Ascencis's lightning was depressed into a curiously sluggish sphere of ozone-emanating electricity, before attenuating into diminutive sparks.
"You are simpletons, each one of you." Murmured Hades. "Harmonyd's absence has reduced you to moronic feuding forces. Sea, sky and earth cannot make a crippling conflict out of another. The balance itself depends on it." He sighed, his utter annoyance prevalent in this expulsion. "And in your feuds, Lydia, Hertzin and Parabolus have snuck out on us."
Ascencis frowned, and glanced behind him. His lieutenants were absent. A maelstrom of lightning and vapour converged over his head as his ire creased his face. He glared suspiciously at Aposys, who had been silent this entire time. The young deity shrugged, grinning impishly.
Aquati regarded her fingers with perplexity, as though there were something curious about the keratin in her nails.
Verda's eyes glazed over, but for bantam specks of effulgence. Then they reverted to their normal state. "Artios has departed from her designated realm. I must have a word with her."
As Verda vanished, an elegant, well pruned chrysanthemum sprouted in her place.
Hades raised an impressed eyebrow. "She can do that?"
"Yep," responded Aquati almost incoherently, engrossed in her own fingers.
