"For the different realms, I'll tell you a bit about two or three to get a general idea," Isylia said, her voice taking on a melodic, lecturing rhythm. She crossed her small arms, looking down at him from the dais with the air of a professor addressing a particularly slow student, her eyes almost glaring. "So, make do with that. Don't you dare ask for more."
Sol nodded with mock obedience. "I'm all ears, Oh Great Weaver."
Internally, he was grinning. It was already good enough that this arrogant, pint-sized goddess was willing to spill cosmic secrets. He didn't want to force her; if her pride flared up, she might just clamp her mouth shut. He needed to stroke her ego to get the manual for this universe.
She paced the obsidian floor, her small bare feet making no sound, yet her presence filled the room. "Adjacent to your Material Plane, there is the Spirit Realm."
