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Cernunnos had given Grendel a lot to consider, and yet the God barely considered most of it. All he focused on was the possibility, the fact that his mistake could be undone, and that Ravnos hadn't actually been destroyed, but instead sent to a different plane of existence. A place that Grendel could, potentially, reach, and the sooner the better.

There was just one little snag. One tiny little essential thing that was keeping him from trying to reach that plane the moment he had left Cernunnos and gone back to his temple.

He just wasn't strong enough.

Yet.

There had been one last piece of advice from the Holykat Angelique, though it was something that Grendel had already considered himself. He needed to seek out his mother, Lilith. She had the knowledge he required. She had the knowledge Caine had once required. She was the only one who could help him now.

The only problem was, he hadn't actually heard from his mother since the day that they had destroyed her garden and Caine's temple in turn. She had gone off her way, he presumed on her own journey of self-reflection and growth, while he had continued on his own. A journey that helped to heal old psychological wounds, a journey that had found him happiness, and where he thought to find where he fits in the world.

But that journey had come to an abrupt, screeching, heart-wrenching halt. And now it seemed that he and Lilith's paths had become destined to meet up with each other once more.

He searched for her. He as a God and, well, her son had a pretty good sense of where to find her, at least. In fact, it wasn't as difficult as he had thought it might be. Maybe she somehow knew that someday he would seek her out.

It was in the Wastelands that he felt her presence, and he stood outside of a cave, peering within.

Mother... his voice echoed silently, calling to her.

He would wait to be invited inside.

It was an odd yet familiar feeling, to be standing on the precipice of something unknown yet nearly tangible if he only knew what he was looking for. That sense of being lost and alone, something he knew all too well over these past few years, began to gnaw at him. It was something he had thought to leave behind when his quest to defeat the Crusnik was completed, but instead, it had come back to overwhelm him, reminding him that this part of his journey was not yet complete.

He hated that feeling bitterly. He was tired of it and just wanted to be able to move past it so fervently. That ache in his chest that would not subside, that hollowness he could never seem to fill no matter how hard he had tried.

The cave called to him, but he would not enter, not until he knew she would accept him, and help him. After he called out to her, he waited, knowing that she would either answer or at the very least send him a sign.

The sign came in the form of clarity, a path revealed, and an ominous storm that had struck up from behind. He knew that her invitation had been accepted, but there was also an urgency to it like he needed to move now, and move quickly.

He entered the cave and followed that revealed path. Whatever might come, he hoped that he was ready for it.

There was difficulty in choosing what to leave behind. There would always be parts of himself that Grendel wasn't proud of, but he knew better than to believe that those parts somehow made him less. He welcomed the pain as a reminder to do and be better. What others might think of as a weakness he saw as a strength. However, he also knew that there were parts of himself that he had already lost, which had been pushed down, and nearly crushed by forces from his past. And so, he left behind his uncertainty and guilt.

Neither had ever served him well, and his confidence had suffered beneath both.

He moved along that path and felt the stirrings in the air. This place felt alive, and like it knew him. It drew him in, coaxing him to keep moving forward. The entrance to the inner sanctum was close, but while it beckoned it also seemed to repel. There was an overwhelming surge of energy, of something ancient and somehow terrifying but also familiar. It rolled over him and beat against him. It sang to him, intrusive, and pulled at something inside, to awaken that which had rested, dormant. Something that felt archaic and primal rose up within him, and rather than fight against it, he accepted it, but not to let it take control, not now, but to only let it guide him. His eyes had bled to darkness so black they were like empty voids. Shadows writhed at his feet. The air around him seemed to dim, like the light of the torches could not quite reach him, no matter how close he stood.

Inside of him was a strange feeling of deep nostalgia for things he did not know or even understand. It rolled through him, and again he felt a pull, though this one was internal, as though this thing inside of him was telling him where he needed to go. He continued through the second opening and to the ancient halls, and all the while he felt what he thought was control rapidly beginning to slip away.

The whispers called and he ignored them, too mistrusting of whispers now. Besides, he was much more concerned with this internal battle, with the images that flashed through his mind. Old memories of things that he did not recognize. Memories that weren't his own and yet felt entirely his. But it was too much, and they were coming too fast. Trying to push them away only seemed to intensify the visions. Blood, pain, and darkness. The sun setting over an ancient world as shadows like claws lengthened. His steps faltered and he shuddered. His own memories began to bleed through, of a lonely and guarded childhood, of deep bitterness, of hate and rebellion and all its consequence. Each one was torn away nearly as quickly as it had come, and he cried out in a mixture of pain and grief, and nearly fell to his knees. Each time those memories were wrenched away he felt a piece of himself go with it. He felt himself being stripped, down, down, down, until it felt like there was nothing left of him for it to take.

When the beast was nearly done, the memory of himself that he saw last, he barely even recognized. Who was this? It had been so long, but the figure that he saw looked and felt so carefree, and ready, so ready, to do what he had been born to do. And being a God, who would ever stop him? He would take what he wanted, be a better version of his father, and unite the clans. He would do whatever he needed to do, and all in the name of Caine.

Grendel grit his teeth at this memory, at a vision of himself so ignorant and unsuspecting of the future that lay ahead. He had been so naive, and oh so arrogant. And it had cost him. He'd lost so much of himself, after that...

A breeze hit him then, a gentle caress that seemed to lift him from where he had stooped down. It urged him to continue, and he straightened, slowly, oh so slowly, and followed that warm guide of swirling air, each step difficult at first, and then easier and easier still. The voices vanished, giving him respite, the primal being inside of him slunk away and hunkered down. Grendel himself felt...strange. There was no other word to describe this thing that he had never felt before. Tranquility? Calm? It was as near to either as he was sure he had ever felt.

A relieved smile adorned his lips, and his eyes closed for a brief period of time while he walked. This moment, surely, was a gift, however briefly it might last.

He came to a place in the path that seemed much too small for him, and though he could have just used his powers magic himself through, he felt like that wasn't the point. He pushed on, tentacles scraping painfully against the rock as he slid slowly through a narrow crevice, but as he pushed free through to the other side he took a pause, drinking in all with his still blackened gaze.

And what a sight it was to behold, simple and yet oh so intricate. His gaze swept over softly glowing candles and a wall filled with things both familiar and completely foreign. Here he found a momentary quiet to go with his peace.

Soon after, he found Her, though he did not recognize her at all. She stood just beyond a pedestal adorned with a bowl. This creature was no longer just his Mother, Lilith. She was now something so much more than just that.

The Dark Mother. The thought came unbidden, settling into his mind, becoming common knowledge just like any other his brain held. She was calling to him, silently, and he approached, trying to get a sense of this new version of her the same way that she was getting a sense of him, though her gaze seemed to delve far beneath what lay just upon the surface.

He found himself standing before her, soon enough. She had not yet spoken so he chose to break that silence himself. He had been the one to come to her, after all. He was the one in need. He was the one with a question to ask.

"Lilith. Mother, please. I need you to teach me, as you once taught Caine. I need to know the things that he knew. I can not fix what I have broken without your guidance." When he was finished, he nodded his head and bowed his shoulders, just enough for it to be considered more than just idle politeness.

He regarded her, at this moment, with deep and great respect. Much more than he had ever allowed his Father.

He wondered, briefly, what her response would be to his request. She was so different now, so unlike the Lilith he had known his entire existence. She was now some entity that he no longer recognized, and yet...this is what she had always been, just held back somehow, suppressed, and made to be something else, something that had fit what Caine had wanted. It was hard to wrap his head around, even now, standing there, watching her as she made her decision.

She smiled, and Grendel was flooded with relief. This was just one step, in what was sure to be many more to come. He watched as she performed her ritual, filling the bowl. He could smell it from where he stood, and it was somehow neither enticing nor repulsive. It was something familiar, and something necessary.

He felt that gentle stir of wind, and felt something new looming, a feeling like it would not just be the two of them here in this cave much longer, that there would be others.

She approached him, the bowl filled, and offered it out to him. He held out his hands to accept it, giving another bow of his head, this time in thanks.

He gazed into the bowl of liquid for a few long seconds. Another step along the journey. He raised it to his lips and drank it down, all of it, every last little drop.

Another step.

Pain and grief were old friends of Grendel's by now. As he drank deeply from that bowl, it seemed like all of his worst moments were put on display for him to watch, as though those memories didn't haunt him already every single day. The question, though, the one that asked him who he was, over and over again, as unrelenting as the visions, that was new. While every day it seemed like he faced a crises of identity, he had never really, not truly, faced it head on and figured out an answer.

Now it seemed he was not going to be given the choice.

He let the bowl slip from his hands as Lilith took it from him. He felt her lips against his forehead, and then she was gone, and he was alone. He so often needed to face things alone, why would this be any different?

A darkness pressed in around him, and he thought for a moment that it was going to stay, but then it suddenly receded again, only to reveal a doorway in front of him. He gave it a wary look, briefly wondering if it was meant for him or for something else, but that question was answered when a being of pure fire emerged from the other side, and Grendel had to shift his gaze, blinking back the burning pain from having taken in too much of it's brilliance at once. He shifted on his feet, as though he might take a step back and away from it, but finally held himself, and straightened.

He had left uncertainty behind, afterall.

A voice echoed in his head, addressing him first before asking him a question. Grendel set his jaw, only pausing briefly before plunging headfirst into his answer.

"I may be his son by blood, but Caine is no father of mine, and we are not the same." He began, his voice strong, confident. "I am no deciever or manipulator. I do not claim power that does not belong to me. I have only ever sought to one day be worthy of it." He paused then, allowing himself time to formulate an answer with calm rationale, and not let his temper, one thing he did seem to inherit from Caine, get the best of him.

"I do not claim the right to this knowledge. It is not mine for the taking. I do, however, wish to earn the right to it. I need it, if I am to fix what I have done."

So, the entity knew of which mistake he had spoken of, despite Grendel having kept the specifics to himself. He cast his eyes downward, unable to look directly at the burning light before him, and nodded his head, both in agreement and thanks, before the firey figure retreated beyond the door.

One more step. How many more to go?

Next came the sound of water, and a new entity passed through the door to hover before him. At least this one he seemed to be able to look at directly.

"I thought I did not have a soul?" He smiled a little, though not in a mocking way, "At least, that's what I have been told."

As for the thing about Caine, it didn't seem fair, how he was continuously being defined based on one parent who was hardly a parent at all.

"Because I refuse to be like Caine, and I never have been, much to his disappointment. If anger is the only thing I have inherited from him, I count myself lucky."

The entity must have known Caine scorned him, so these questions seemed pointless.

Grendel had to hold his tongue, inwardly wincing at the lashing of words, the cold bitterness, and the anger that he had clearly wrought from the entity before him. It appeared they were looking for more than just denial of any similarities or strong connection to Caine.

They were on the precipice of offering him a gift, one that was not given freely or easily. He had said he wanted to earn it, and so far he had done very little to prove himself.

He took his scolding just as he took the many he had had in his time. This wasn’t new for him. When the entity finished he thought that it might leave, but for some reason, it hesitated.

He was startled by the question, but answered it quickly, without hesitation. “Yes. Yes of course I would have. I have only ever wanted to protect the clans, and clanless alike, from our enemies, and often from each other. It is my duty, and they are my responsibility.”

The thought of losing an entire bloodline was what had spurned him into action to begin with, though there was no denying that Dracian was a big part of why he had come.

“I just want to fix this. All of it.”