“I’ve got to admit, I did not see that one coming,” I couldn’t help but mutter, even as I tried to make sense of the information presented to me by the System. Just to confirm it wasn’t some sort of glitch within it, I repeated the Inspection of the different idols, the additional information I gained only increasing my confusion.

There was a total of three idols focused on me as a person, with a further five depicting me as part of a triad composed of Luna, the Grandmother and myself. Those triads weren’t the weird part, I could recognise their link to Lady Hecate without too much of a problem. Just another case of the lazy Lady borrowing my face for her own reasons, or to make a point. Or maybe even just to make a joke, I had no idea what might motivate a divine being like her. Regardless, it was fairly immaterial to me, even if it was a little strange to see myself depicted as part of a deity I knew I wasn’t. I could imagine that this sensation was similar to seeing another person using a mask modelled after your face, though not trying to impersonate you. Or possibly what it felt like meeting a twin you didn’t know you had. Whatever the comparison used, it was a weird sensation.

But then there were the idols not linked to Lady Hecate. Two of them were similar enough to those linked to Lady Hecate to be part of the same set; they were all made from the same, crystalline material, maybe a slightly cloudy variant of Hard Ice, and they both emanated the same aura. The aura of the Mother, quite similar to that of Lady Hecate’s second aspect, to the point that most people would likely be unable to tell the difference, simply because the divine aspects of the beings depicted were so similar.

But then there was the last one, amusingly, the first I had Inspected, a decision I had likely made because it was different from the others in appearance and the sensation it spread. The differences between this one and the others were both obvious and subtle. The obvious difference was that the last statue had a pair of wings growing from her back, while standing on a coiled base that seemed to fade into the idol’s legs, though the design obscured the details quite cleverly.

Otherwise, the features of the idols looked physically identical; they were all made in my image, but the individual statues presented a different image. Those of the Mother all had a neutral or encouraging expression, as if a teacher or mother were trying to motivate their students or children to study. The last one was not so much; the expression on her face told anyone looking at it that she didn’t care whether the observer perished or not - it was one of utter indifference.

And even if these expressions were the only difference, a simple Inspect told anyone who wanted to know that the five triad statues were Idols of the Three Faces of Magic, while the individual statues of the Mother were just that: Idols of the Mother, nothing more to be said about them. On the other hand, that last, or first, idol was, according to my Inspect, and Idol of the Pale Lady, a moniker I had been given quite a while back, making me wonder just where this one had crept out of.

The differences and similarities began at the most obvious level: the material from which these idols were created. The singular, outlying statue of the Pale Lady was crafted from a cloudy, almost bone-white Ice, with the faintest hint of blue shimmering out of its depths, giving it a pale appearance that closely matched my natural colouration. In contrast, the statues of the Mother were all made from the same fairly clear crystal, though they were cold to the touch, too.

Within the triad, the Mother’s idols formed an interesting bridge between the wooden, almost living, appearance of the Maiden’s idols and the completely crystalline appearance of the Crone’s idols, which looked eerily similar to the crystalline trees of Neyto in appearance. Just looking at these idols was fascinating; numerous hidden messages and lessons were apparent with a quick glance, making me want to devote a bit of extra time to studying them. This effect might have been intended, as pushing people to indulge their curiosity was very much on-brand for Lady Hecate and me, though I couldn’t be confident just yet.

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Given its unique status, I focused my senses on the idol depicting the Pale Lady, trying to make sense of it. There were the obvious parts, it being carved in my image being the most prominent of them all, but others were a lot less conspicuous. The idol’s aura, for example, was fascinating in its own right. So similar in physical sensation to that of the Mother’s statue, but when examined with a closer eye, they were quite different from one another. Both were physically cold, easily sending shivers down the spines of anyone harbouring hostility towards them and causing gooseflesh to rise on those who came too close. But where the Mother’s cold was one of Winter mixed with the Darkness of the Night, the Pale Lady emanated the chill of the grave and the darkness of the void. Similar, yes, especially for those who were uninitiated in arcane and mystical matters, but fundamentally different to anyone who studied those things.

Fundamentally different, and yet, sides of the same coin at the same time. The cold of winter was, fundamentally, a cyclical concept. Winter always had to give way to spring, even the seemingly eternal Fimbulwinter would eventually come to an end, though the world would look quite different afterwards compared to a normal winter.

But the chill of the grave was different. The grave was the end; there were no second chances, no respawn, nothing along those lines, at least not within the natural order. That fundamental truth was why my desire to resurrect Sigmir was so challenging to fulfil.

Similarly, the darkness of the night would always be broken by the dawn. It was simply part of the fundamental concept that it wouldn’t last forever, that it couldn't last forever. It might last longer during certain nights, like the Longest Night we had celebrated near the turning of the year, but it would always end.

However, the Darkness of the Void was different. It wasn’t a darkness caused by the absence of light but one caused by the absence of matter. The void wasn’t dark because there was no light; it was dark because there was nothing there to illuminate. On a larger scale, the void was dark because light could never escape; it would always be trapped within. No matter how much light was sent into the void, it changed nothing; the void simply swallowed it up and spat it back out.

“So, what’s going on here?” Catherine finally interrupted my musing, breaking yet another tangent my mind had been running down.

“Something interesting,” Luna replied to her, getting a glare for her trouble. “You see, you didn’t just receive Idols of currently active deities. While Mother and I are linked to Lady Hecate, who, for some reason, chose to use our likeness as her own in this world, it is not the only divine being we are linked to,” she paused for a moment, “Or is that will be linked to, it is hard to tell in cases like this.” She ended her explanation, such as it was, with a shrug, making it obvious that this was a case of accepting a reality even if it wasn’t easily comprehended.

“And what does that mean for us?” another ot those present asked.

“That you can pray to any of these idols as you wish and as it suits you. If you seek magical guidance and arcane advice, Lady Hecate, embodied by the Three Faces of Magic, would be the one to seek out. However, I should warn you that the Lady doesn’t suffer fools,” Luna paused, glancing at me for a moment.

“If you seek motherly advice, maybe healing for your wounds or an embrace in the darkness of night to make the nightmares go away? Well, the Mother is the one you wish for.” I felt myself blush at the description, briefly wondering just how I deserved it but, the moment I did, numerous memories of doing just that for Luna flashed through my mind, forcing me to accept it, at least to a point.

“Lastly, if you need assistance and care little for the price you will have to pay?” Luna let her words hang ominously in the air, “The Pale Lady can be cruel, or she can be kind, her temperament can be mercurial and, like the Lady Hecate, she doesn’t suffer fools,” another pause and I could almost see the sweat bead on a few people’s forehead.

“But if she decides to aid you, her assistance might be the most valuable of them all.”