Chapter 15

Anseyla awoke and immediately noticed it was too early for her to be awake. Not only that, but the bed linen was scratchy and the mattress was lumpy. Opening her eyes, she belatedly realized there was something else wrong, too. She was alone in bed. Her beloved snuggle bunny huddled to a corner of the small chamber with a bedsheet around her shoulders and a forlorn expression on her face.

“What’s wrong, Sybil,” Anseyla asked. “Is it because of what I told you about the council meeting? Maybe they will change their mind, or at least some of them will help us. Maybe we don’t even need them. Who knows how many magic tricks our new boss has up his sleeve?”

“No,” Sybelien sighed. “It’s not about that. I knew they wouldn’t do anything to help us. They’ll wait to see which side will win and then join the victor.”

“Well, if it’s not that, what is it? You look like a lost lamb, all sad and lonely.”

Sybelien watched Anseyla’s face then turned her gaze away from her and looked straight ahead at nothing. “I woke up and had to pee and ... I ... I noticed I was bleeding,” she said and blushed.

“What?” Anseyla screeched and hastily asked, “Were you hurt yesterday?” But then she noticed her friends crimson face. “Oh - Ohhh! You mean you are bleeding ... I understand,” she tapered off, but suddenly a grin split her face. “Well, baby, there comes a time in every young girl’s life when she becomes a woman...”

“Shut up!” Sybelien interrupted. “That’s not funny!”

“Come on, it is a little bit funny,” Anseyla said and giggled. “You look just like Eva when she discovered she had grown tits.”

“No, you don’t understand what it means to me,” Sybelien sobbed. “I should have died with my mother and sisters but I survived. I could never have children and was the last; one day my family would have died with me, as I should have died with them. But now my body is changing and maybe I could be a mother...”

“Your family? I’m your family!” Anseyla roared. “You were a baby when the Yorak killed your mother and sisters; you can’t remember any of them. I, Jorsha, my mom, Eva, we are your family!”

“You think I can’t remember my mother and sisters?” Sybelien asked. She had stopped crying and her voice was still low but steady now. “I wish it would be true. You’re right, I was only three months of age when it happened but ever since I can remember, I dream of the night the Yorak came. I dream of my mother and sisters. I see them getting raped and murdered. I see myself sleeping in my crib and I know the face of the man who struck his ax in mine. In some dreams, my mother and sisters are talking to me. My oldest sister, Valerien, she told me she wasn’t murdered that night. She escaped the Yorak and fled Katerra. She rode to the Capassian Mountains, the home of the Faceless God, to offer her life to him and beg for revenge. Valerien died before she even reached the foot of the Capassians. She died in a dark forest, all alone, torn by wolves, and believing her whole life had been wasted - but maybe it wasn’t. Did you ever hear the prophecy of the Nameless Son of the Faceless God?”

Anseyla had listened, wide-eyed and transfixed, but Sybelien’s last question jolted her out of her torpor and she shook her head to answer her friend.

“I believe Jabbit is the prophesied Son,” Sybelien continued, undeterred by Anseyla’s lack of knowledge. “And he came to Katerra to fulfill my sister’s dying wish. It’s my wish too; I want revenge on the murderers of MY FAMILY!”

Anseyla was disturbed. She couldn’t remember a single time Sybelien ever had shouted back at her when they argued. She presumed the onset of Sybelien’s monthlies caused this new behavior – monthlies which were yet another thing Sybelien had never had before.

Rhaseris was roused out of sleep by the sound of her opening prison door. An elder woman entered her tiny cell. She wore a simple, white frock, her grayed hair was bound in a tight knot and a benevolent smile graced her otherwise unremarkable face.

“A gods’ given good morning to you, my child,” the old woman’s smile transferred into words.

“How nice,” Rhaseris replied a bit grouchy. “And if my prison had a window I could enjoy it, too.”

The woman laughed in response. “I imagine this cell must feel very uncomfortable for a royal princess such as you,” she jovially commented. “But you can get used to it, trust me on that. I spent many a day here myself in search of wisdom and understanding ... and almost as many as a punishment when I angered my betters.”

“And why are you here today,” Rhaseris asked.

“The Untar of my Order instructed my matron and she instructed me to find out what happened to you on your travel to Katerra,” the gray-haired woman answered. “My matron believes I’m good at talking to young women because she still thinks of me as a flighty brat myself, regardless of how old I have become.”

“Yes, you are good at it,” Rhaseris replied, smiling. “You’re so open and honest; I’ll be open and honest with you, too. I got abducted by mercenaries who scared me witless - but not witless enough I failed to recognize my rescuer was with them as well. And he did rescue me; not only from my abductors and the man who paid them but with his help I also escaped the future my father and your betters had chosen for me - a future I never wanted. Now I’m a priestess like you - but unlike you, I don’t only believe my god cares and protects me. I know he does.”

The older woman nodded, slowly and thoughtfully. “I can only imagine what horrors you had to witness when you were abducted,” she sympathized, sat down on the bunk next to Rhaseris and took her hand in hers. “But sometimes what seems to be an escape from misery is in truth a path leading to an even deeper abyss of pain and sorrow. I gather from what you just told me and the things my matron had said before, your rescuer was a young man. Why do you believe he is a god and what did he want from you as the price for your rescue? Child, I have to tell you, the men walking among us on this world are no gods.”

“Good of you to mention it; I was curious about it, too,” Rhaseris eagerly replied. “Since gods don’t walk among us mortals but I was supposed to gift my virginity to the Alorian gods, I wondered who intended to take it. Do you know? Some decrepit, fat priest maybe? I remember my tutors taught me there is a ceremony to ordain a priestess and some sleazy old priests would be involved,” Rhaseris pondered. “Although, I have to admit they didn’t actually say sleazy old priests; those are my words and were my thoughts the first time I heard of the ceremony.”

“That’s no way to talk about the Alorian priesthood!” The old woman chided. “The ceremony to ordain a priestess at which we gift our virginity to the Alorian gods is a symbolic act of devotion and not the repugnant heretic ritual you make it sound to be.”

“That’s what I thought,” Rhaseris nodded. “The gift of my virginity would be a mere symbol for the Alorian gods but in reality, I would be fucked by some nasty geezer. You Alorian priestesses certainly don’t have as much fun losing your virginity as I had - symbolically or otherwise. My god is a beautiful young man and I’m so very thankful he didn’t send a fat old sack to fuck me but did it himself.”

The Alorian priestess rose from the bunk and walked in silence until she reached the cell door. “I’ve heard all I needed to hear from you, Princess Rhaseris. I’ll report to my matron and will suggest you be allowed to sojourn in this chamber. You obviously need an extended period of time in solitude and silence to reconsider the path you have chosen,” she judged with stringent poise before she left with a curt “I’ll pray for you.”

When the door closed behind the old priestess, Rhaseris smiled and nodded.

“Yeah, I didn’t like her either,” she agreed with the rag doll in her hands.

Luwani var Dosha walked into her daughter’s cabin on the Storm’s Bride, intending to rouse her. Instead, she found Anjatta already awake, dressed and ready for the day. Her face folding into a frown, she noticed that her daughter was even smiling at her.

“I don’t dare to hope your smile means you’ve changed your opinion concerning the decisions I made to protect our family and homeland?” She asked.

“I’m smiling because I had a very good night’s rest,” Anjatta answered. “Usually my dreams at night are blurry and obscure, disconnected and impossible to understand; but tonight I slept like a newborn, without any troubling dreams. Even my past dreams and visions are clearing and you can’t imagine what a relief it means to me. I think my new necklace helps to lift the shrouds off my sight - finally,” she said and displayed her new, delicate silver necklace with a pearl-white seashell set as its prominent pendant.

“Well, that’s nice my dear,” Luwani coolly commented. “But hide it beneath your clothes; a silver chain with a clamshell is no appropriate jewelry for a royal princess. At least you won’t wear it on the coming occasions where I’ll introduce you to your eligible prospective spouses.”

“What a fitting day this is for you to think about the future of your daughter!” Anjatta laughed out. “Do you know what today is, mother?”

Luwani’s features further darkened as she shook her head.

“Today is the twentieth anniversary of the day I was fathered; it’s your happy conception day,” Anjatta announced. “It was the day after the Yorak raided Katerra and you had your private little victory celebration.”

“Nonsense!” Her mother cried out. “Your father was with the Ibanee fleet in Aloria at the time. Your birth was a bit premature, which is the only reason for all these vicious rumors! You were an early child, that’s all!”

“My birth date was actually a few days later than the usual ten moon cycles,” Anjatta corrected. “Did you know you weren’t the only woman who conceived a child that night? The oldest of Callandrea’s daughters, Valerien, also conceived a child the night following the Yorak invasion. She was raped, just like all of her family, but she was the only one of them to get pregnant. Not too surprising I guess; three of her four sisters were too young to conceive and Callandrea, her mother, had given birth to Sybelien only a few months earlier.”