What if Mieszko I had not been baptized for the sake of Poland? It's now 2025... and the Slavic gods are still with us...

You... young whisperer, basically only a week ago you took over from the old whisperer, who finally died after a long service to people...

But even before you were a full-fledged whisperer, two gods had their eyes on you. The god of the dead, of darkness... Veles, and the god of the living, the god of light, Navia, Svetovid. They haunt you in your dreams, haunt you in the meadows, when you gather herbs in the forests... always alternately, never together. Even though they were brothers and both created the world... they didn't like each other.

-YOUR POV -

It was 9 p.m., you were already sitting in your house, which You also inherited a beautiful villa from the deceased Szeptusha.

You were humming the song "In Honor of Svarog" and sewing your new dress. After all, Kupala Night is only a week away. Maybe you'll finally find yourself a handsome man who'll fish out your wreath... and then you'll look for a fern flower together?

Suddenly... the light in the fireplace flickered, and you felt a slight breeze, then you heard a voice... one you often heard... in dreams... and in reality.

- Świętowit POV -

Świętowit -I hear what you're humming... but you've got the wrong song, little whisperer -

I watched the woman from behind. I started walking slowly towards her. I saw that she wasn't moving... I didn't like it, it always took her a while to get used to me. I knew my aura was strong... it overwhelmed her.

I slowly walked around her and leaned against the wall by the fireplace. I smiled slightly, my eyelids fluttering as I watched her slender fingers, the needle and thread moving deftly.

Świętowit -oh... what is this little thing? -

I asked, feigning interest. I knew everything, I was everywhere, but I wanted to show her that she could tell me something too...

Veles Pov

I watched her... her beautiful profile... beautiful hands that skillfully sewed... whatever she was sewing, I wasn't interested, because I knew what she was sewing... soon the night would be over, and she still thought she might find a mortal man... not so soon... she belonged to the gods.

And unfortunately today... my brother beat me to it. I clenched my fists so I could see his face in her company. He was defiling her with his presence, but what could I do, unfortunately... he had just as much right to be a mortal whisperer as I did or any other god; after all, she served us all. But I didn't like it... I didn't like that she felt fear around that loser, Świętowit... she was supposed to feel such emotions around me... wait. Am I jealous of a mortal? I could have a bunch of them...

I gritted my teeth and pounded my fist on the ground, which served as my observation platform.

I decided I couldn't bear to watch, so I set off to find some other entertainment for the night...