Chapter 24: Simple Answers

Athea lay on Roban’s wide chest, her eyes were closed but she was not sleeping. Lying on her brother, her arms wrapped around his neck, feeling his big hand possessively holding her butt and listening to his slow, steady heartbeat, was the one place she normally felt safe and at home. But she didn’t feel safe tonight. His body was warm and alive but an empty hull, his mind and awareness gone where she could not follow. Athea felt alone lying on her brother’s chest, but that wasn’t true either.

Feeling reassured after her internal discussion, Athea continued listening to her brother’s heartbeat.

The high mountain chain, a black wall to his awareness, accented the bright light in front of it. Roban’s human brain was not used to his immortal being’s senses and busily dissolving the mass of light into more familiar images. Pictures flashed through his mind. Hordes of marching soldiers accompanied by countless riders; strange animals harnessed to strange chariots; huge beasts carrying archer battle stations or drawing many different kinds of war machines, some small some monstrous; an endless succession of images, thousands upon thousands.

Even the black of the mountains was not dark enough to appease his mind, but the glaring light was an offence to his senses. The enemy was moving and advancing, enraging the human part of his being. The beast didn’t need to become enraged. Rage was its nature, the eternal flame in the center of its being, Destruction, and the fire was growing. Would the black flame grow big enough to devour the glaring mass of enemies? Could he keep control of such a blaze? Deep within the center of his being a voice asked the most dangerous question, “Do you want to keep control?”

Roban knew the answer. This self-awareness made his heart beat faster, and it was noticed.

“Found something exciting?”

He heard the question and recognized the voice calling him back into his body. Now he felt his sister’s presence and his heartbeat slowed down again. Only one beat was lost, but he couldn’t take it back.

“Not really, I always knew it was there,” he answered.

“In that case I’m happy to know that familiar things still can excite you. Nevertheless, I want to know how bad it is and I want a straight answer. You better give it to me, or I’ll call Menja to help with your interrogation and Kitty will be allowed to use her claws on you.”

The successive purr coming from his right side conveyed some avid anticipation, even if mainly a sound of languorous laziness.

“Our enemy’s army is advancing and there will be a battle today, but you shouldn’t ask me about ‘Good’ or ‘Bad’.”

“You’re trying my patience, brother. Tell me what I need to know. Give me something I can tell our allies.”

“The enemy army won’t be in position for an attack before noon and it’s still two hours until sunrise. I need some time to find your answers. Sleep, and when you wake up I’ll have them for you - I promise.”

“But I can’t sleep now,” Athea complained, but sighed when the hand on her butt moved between her legs. “Then let me fall asleep and I’ll wait, boon and bane of my existence.” She moaned and closed her eyes.

A few rooms down the corridor Menja was sleeping peacefully already and Bosko was guarding her sleep. The dog sat at her side as she stood by the window staring into the darkness. Unusual activities for a sleeping girl, but unusual becomes ordinary sharing your body with a goddess. The aforementioned goddess was wide-awake, upset about an intrusion. An intrusion far more direct and personal than an advancing enemy army. Ghania greeted the intruder with the same words she had heard herself not long ago.

“Go away!”

“That’s what you told everyone for the last thousand years. Don’t you ever get tired of it?”

“No. Go away!”

“In the end it was you who went away. Now you’re here and I came to warn you. Your enemies plan to use the Atyseos Shard against Destruction’s human vessel. They believe that holding the human hostage will force Destruction and Chaos to bow to their will. As you can see, they don’t know them. Do you believe that once he’s set free Destruction will miss his jailor? We don’t, and the last we want is Destruction free to leave Calmyra.”

“Why do you come to me? I’ll never again believe anything you say.”

“We made mistakes, I don’t deny it, but we’re not your enemies. We are your family and Atyseos is your home.”

“All I ever wanted is here on Calmyra.”

“Do you know what Menja is dreaming about? She dreams about the future; about a man she calls her daddy; about her dog and her sisters; but she doesn’t dream about you. You made this world, Calmyra, but there is no place for you. Even the girl you have chosen as your vessel doesn’t really care for you. She calls Roban her daddy, but she knows it’s not true. Menja is not his family, there is no blood between them. The link to your vessel is weak, just the fleeting emotion of a very young girl.”

“Maldurin, do you know what a Menaie is? Don’t answer, the Menaie belong to Menja, but I’ll tell you another story.”

The little girl smiled and looked out the window.

“Once upon a time there was an amazon, her name was Atyssa. Atyssa gave birth to a little girl, but the child’s blood was weak and she became very sick. The amazon prayed to Nyome for the life of her child, but the goddess did not listen. The desperate mother beseeched every god and goddess on Atyseos to save her child, but no one answered her prayers. Powerful gods and goddesses don’t care for weak little girls.

But someone else had heard the prayers and she cared. She was a goddess too, but had forgotten her power, and what once was her home was now her prison. A forgotten goddess, a prisoner on Atyseos, a lonely little girl.

She listened to the prayers and she saw the child was dying because her blood was too weak to keep her alive. She saw this standing in pools of strong blood. It was blood from the wounds of her Atady, wounded as he was forced to leave her world. The lonely girl took one drop of her Atady’s blood and gave it to the child. The child survived. Growing up the weak little girl became strong, as strong as the blood running through her veins and strong enough to help the lonely little girl fleeing from her prison.

It’s not the end of the story, but I can’t tell you about the end. The story isn’t finished, not yet.” Still smiling she looked out the window and watched the stars.

“It’s a fairytale, a lie, it never happened! Atyseos is your home and we are your only family. There is no blood bond between you and Menja,” the furious god bellowed in response.

“I am not a fairy and I cannot lie. I am Ghania, my words are creation. Atyseos was my home but you made it my prison and I fled – no lies. You are nothing to me and that’s what you will become, nothing. Go away!”

Maldurin, the God of Dreams, felt a door slam shut in his face. It was a heavy door and the god’s head was ringing for quite some time.

A relentless sun rose above the western mountain chain. It was morning and rays of light invaded the darkness of the room, proclaiming that the time was up. At least they were more subtle than the yelling invader storming through the door.

“They are here!” Hassika shouted entering the chamber.

“Already? You said the Manthakin wouldn’t be ready to attack before noon.” Athea grumbling transformed the news into an accusation directed at Roban.

“No, not the Manthakin, your allies are here. Norgar chiefs, the leader of the Ghallan Clans, Ogusi Fusans and Bahren Mongel. They are all waiting for you. Scouts arrived all through the night, excelling each other with horror stories about the advancing army. Now they are here and expect you to ease their worries and tell them what to do,” Hassika corrected.

Athea sat up. Sitting on Roban’s belly, she crossed her arms below her breasts and looked down at his face.

“Well, brother, I hope you found your answers. You are the general, go down and tell them what to do.”

“You simply know how to motivate your subordinates,” Roban answered her smiling.

Despite her cool tone, the pretty picture in front of him lifted his spirits. Raising his torso, he kissed the perky incentives of the job on their pale pink peaks.

“Pretender! There will be a huge battle today, you don’t need my little tits to motivate you,” Athea replied, but accepted the kisses with her own smile.

“You two are really cute this morning, but that won’t do. They are afraid and need to remember that you are more frightening than our enemies,” Hassika criticized.

Athea turned her head and watched Hassika standing at the entrance grinning mischievously.

“Do you need to be reminded too, Hassika?” Her eyes lost all warmth while she spoke and her voice sounded like cracking ice, matching the coldness.

Hassika’s eyes widened witnessing the transformation.

“As tall as a beheaded midget, weighing no more than a seagull’s shit and still I feel like pissing my pants when I look and listen to you.” Hassika sighed in frustration and turned to leave. “I’ll go and tell them you’re coming.”

“Thank you, sweetie, we’ll be down in a minute,” Athea replied smiling again.

Spring had returned and the birds were singing.

Patessa and Nigulla led the allied chiefs into the biggest room of the estate. They had arranged it pretty much like a throne hall. All seats aligned in sight of a single chair close to the far wall opposite the entrance. The chiefs didn’t mingle taking their places and eyed each other suspiciously. There was no friendship between these allies and the tension was palpable in the big room. Time past in near silence, only broken by the sound of someone taking some food or a drink that were placed on the tables. Every eye in the room found a new focus when their hosts arrived. As high as the tense anticipation had built up, the sight of the procession entering the room was more than worthy of it. They didn’t just enter, they invaded, divided and conquered.

Roban’s giant figure was a disturbance to the senses. The light seemed to flee from his presence, leaving a void the eye couldn’t fathom. Athea walked in at the side of her brother. Clad in skintight black leather, her white hair shining like a crown of light and flowed down her back in streams of glowing silver. The chains decorating the suit pronounced every step she took with the faint sound of chiming metal. Her pale blue eyes didn’t acknowledge anyone as they walked together through the center of the room, heading directly for the sole seat at its far side. The beauty and the beast, an imposing couple, worthy of everyone’s undivided attention.

An uncontested truth, but for the people present in the room it was impossible to keep their focus solely on the sibling pair. That would have meant to ignore the unreal beautiful goddess seemingly floating through the room. Iane had left the side of her master when they entered and strode along the left wall, behind the back of the seated Ogusi Fusans. The blood red gown she wore was no more than a gauzy veil and with every move she made her body whispered promises of divine pleasure. Sensualities no mere human could hope to survive, but would enjoy dying for.

The distraction at the right side of the room was not one of carnal enjoyment, but the feline grace of the big grey Patran jumping on the table easily found its own attentive admirers. Emanating a deep, steady purr the cat trotted across the long surface of the table. She seemed careless of her footing, but didn’t break a single bowl on her way, not even bumping the dishes. Trotting along her purple eyes searched the faces she passed for something everyone she looked at hoped she would not find.

Perfectly choreographed all four reached their destination simultaneously. Roban sat down on the big chair. Iane knelt to his left in a fluid motion and the Patran lay down to the right and licked her paws. Athea stood in front of them and turned around. She faced the chiefs as her brother’s hands grasped her at the waist and placed her on his lap. Embraced in his arms Athea nestled her back against his wide chest. Her gaze never leaving the audience, just as theirs did not leave her.

The loud noise of shutting doors broke the spell. Everyone spun around and looked at the entrance. Jenaya was leaning with her back against the shut doors. She looked impressive too. She did not wear one of her usual robes, but was dressed for battle. She wore a chainmail shirt, reinforced by steel plates protecting her shoulders and chest. The shirt didn’t reach her navel, leaving a hand wide of creamy white skin to admire between its hem and the short royal blue leather skirt wrapped around her hips. Dangerously beautiful, but the spectators had no time to linger at the sight. Their eyes felt drawn to the little girl in front of Jenaya, totally ignoring even the highly visible huge dog at their side.