Chapter 38: Gathering Storm and Soothing Breeze

Athea asked Chalissa and Meyra, why they had not prevented Jenaya’s and Roban’s tryst. The answer was predictable; they had not prevented it, because they had passed out. Athea also cornered Roban before breakfast and reminded him that he had agreed to stay away from Jenaya. His answer was predictable as well. Roban had not been seeking her out. Jenaya had approached him when he was most vulnerable - with two passed out playmates and still horny. Athea had to grudgingly admit that this time Roban had been blameless. It did not matter anyway; she had taken care of it already.

The atmosphere at the breakfast table was lively and carefree, even if maybe a bit contrived. Athea casually asked Roban if Menja’s birthday present had been the reason for his secret visits of the smithy. Roban just as casually confirmed her assumption; of course it was his only reason for the visits. He hid the lie behind a smile, and she smiled in return hiding her suspicion.

Jenaya entered the kitchen as happy and carefree as everyone around. She made a short stop at Roban’s side.

“Good morning, Daddy,” she said and kissed his cheek before she took a seat at the table.

Suddenly it was eerily silent in the room. Roban looked at Athea and saw she was smiling at him even brighter now. Everyone else avoided his gaze. The silence ended when the little girl on his lap started giggling.

“You think that’s funny?” He asked Menja.

Struggling she tried turning in his lap to look at him. “Yep, Jenaya sounds just like me. We’re both your daughters and Ghania is too, and now we all sound the same. That’s funny.” Menja confirmed grinning.

“Should I also tuck her in like you before she falls asleep at night?” Roban asked less amused.

“You should, Menja is never bothered by bad dreams when you tuck her in,” another little girl answered.

“But Jenaya is much older; she doesn’t need her daddy anymore to tuck her in!” Athea hastened to interject, vehemently. “You promised, Roban!” She reminded him again.

He nodded, and they all turned their attention back on their meals and a new round of carefree banter.

Later they all went together to the market place, like a big happy family, and enjoyed the manifold amusements of the festivities. Of course Roban had to show Athea the smithy, but her scrutiny could not expose anything hidden. So they ate, drank, laughed and continued their charade.

Back at home, Kassja was lying on Athea’s bed and watched her pacing the room.

“He knows it!” Athea cursed. “Someone has blabbed, but it wasn’t Menja.”

“I think he knows that we’re hiding something, but he doesn’t know what we are hiding,” Kassja voiced her opinion.

“That’s a given. I told him to stay away from Jenaya, but didn’t give him a reason for it.” Athea replied.

“He didn’t ask for one?” Kassja sounded surprised.

“You need to better get to know Roban. There were three possible reasons for him to not ask. He knew I wouldn’t tell him or I’d lie about; he knew the reason already; or, as in most cases, he didn’t care!” Athea answered a bit outraged.

“I remember Zeroth was a lot like that too. That attitude probably comes along with the knowledge you can smash anything to smithereens you’re not happy about,” Ayphera proposed with a snigger.

“Yeah, I know, and it isn’t what has me worried the most. I can feel it, he’s hiding something too!” Athea said, her outrage growing.

“The big bad meanie!” Kassja commented.

“Now you’re laughing, but you won’t be laughing anymore when we’ll face the outcome of one of Roban’s secret plans,” Athea warned.

“You mean like the preview of the end of the world? Yes, that wasn’t very funny,” Kassja agreed.

“It’s best we change our approach of the problem. We stop trying to distract Roban, and instead we distract Jenaya and keep her away from him. That should be much easier and less stressful for my helpers,” Athea surmised.

“Sounds reasonable to me. I’ll go and spread the new orders.” Kassja announced.

Athea still worried. She hoped for something to happen that would distract them all.

The next two days went fairly well for everyone. The continuing celebrations in Notabir offered a happy means of escape when the tension level in the house became too aggravating. Although everyone was aware of the strain in Athea’s and Roban’s relationship, everyone also pretended it did not exist, Athea and Roban most of all. They even spent the nights together again, working off the tension they had built up during the day. Of course they had help, since many others felt tense too at night. Only Menja seemed immune to any tension not caused by her own excitement. Since she was always excited, she had no spare time to bother about other people’s tension.

It was the last day of the celebration week, when Athea’s hoped for distraction finally arrived. At breakfast Denyssa reported that this morning a messenger from the town guards had come to tell, that a group of priests and priestesses of the banished gods had arrived at the town, and they requested an audience with Athea.

“Don’t raise your expectations too high, I remember, I know them better than you. They might be here to surrender, but they probably think you should thank them for it,” Kassja warned looking at the people sitting around the table.

“I think family should reconcile, not surrender to each other,” Ynerca opined.

“Your family did not banish you from home, or sent assassins to kill you,” Iane countered.

“I thought about a solution that will nicely balance surrender and reconciliation,” Athea stated, her expression balancing between the smile on her face and the coldness in her eyes.

That ended the discussion.

Aside from stages and booths a large podium had been built on Notabir’s market place. It had been built for the very wealthy, to enable watching from a habitual aloof position the entertainment acts needing more space than the stages provided; usually exhibition bouts, tourneys, or shows with animals. Today the imperial family was seated on the podium. They, and thousands of spectators, were awaiting the Gods of Atyseos to come and bow before them.

They came, and the lively and excited crowd grew silent. The procession arriving at the market place was awe-inspiring. The vessels were humans, but they exuded the aura of the gods inside of them. Gods and Goddesses, eternal beings of paramount power and greatness, had descended from Heaven and were walking among them - them, unworthy mere mortals. The godly procession came to a halt ten yards before the podium. They did not bow and a goddess stepped to the fore.

She wore a rather simple, pliantly soft, white robe and was not very tall, but her beauty was beyond measure. Long tresses of strawberry blond hair cascaded down the front of one shoulder, and over a salient luscious breast. Her smile was like the sunrise and her almond-shaped, light-green eyes, was a new shade of a heaven she created.

“I am Ipochone, the Goddess of Love, the mother of Caltessa and Velantie, Domination and Submission, your allies, and may I presume, your lovers too. My siblings chose me to act as their speaker. We are here to surrender to you; Ghania, Eyna, Zeroth, the Trinity of Destiny.” She said, went to her knees and bowed, until her brow touched the ground.

Ipochone remained in that position, and one by one, her siblings followed her example. The Gods of Atyseos knelt and bowed their heads in the dirt of Notabir’s marketplace.

Kassja looked to her side at Athea and smiled. She received a short nod in response and rose from her chair.

Kassja stepped off the podium. “I can’t see your mate, Injontas. Neither do I see Khor, Maldurin or Balkhor. I didn’t expect them, and would feel most surprised if my mother, Feya, and her mate Cointas had come, but I wonder where Nyome is.” She pondered wandering amongst the kneeling gods. “Ohh, how impolite of me! You may rise of course.” Kassja said when no one reacted.

When the gods had risen, Ipochone smiled at Kassja. “As an older you have to be indulgent with the youth. I and my siblings, we failed terribly in that regard. Those you mentioned most of all. They will not surrender, but Feya asked me to tell you that she’s offering peace. Nyome is another story. She was the first who quit fighting her children. She’s here, and she was already forced to submit to her new granddaughter. That’s also why Menja isn’t sitting with you looking down on us, but I’m sure they’ll join us shortly. Then maybe Athea will have to give her seat in Roban’s lap to Menja. As I said, we have to be indulgent with our youth.”

“Let’s better not judge who needs to be more indulgent, you or we, your children,” Athea replied. Languorously sinking deeper into Roban’s lap, she continued. “I’ve thought about our situation. Our main problem seems to be the distance that has built between us. We have so very few things in common here on Calmyra. That has to change. We welcome you back in our midst. I want you all to repossess your temples,” Athea said smiling, and the Gods and Goddesses returned her smile. “Since Ghania’s former temple is also vacated, and it never really was hers anyway, it will be dedicated to a new divinity. Its symbol is a golden sun, the circle broken by a burning triangle. The temple will be dedicated to Destiny. The newly appointed and most devoted Denyssa, High Priestess of Destiny, will personally oversee all business regarding this new uniting religion.”

A loud female sounding squeak interrupted Athea’s speech, but only temporarily.

“There are two new fundamental religious dogmas. From this day on, every priestess apprentice will have a close examination at a temple of Destiny, before she can be ordained to a priestess. Every high priestess will take part in an annual ritual, to remain in good standing with Destiny,” Athea solemnly intoned.

Every god and goddess standing on the marketplace stared at Athea, speechless. One of the goddesses noisily cleared her throat regaining her equilibrium.

“You do remember we have male priests too, don’t you?” Ebora looked a bit strained when she asked her question. It was inscrutable if repressed anger caused her strained expression, or if she was trying to suppress laughter.

“Of course, and I thought about it. I hope I can convince my dear friend Ayphera to take on the young priests’ education, in the name of Destiny,” Athea answered.

Another woman coughed in need to clear her throat, but Ayphera’s gleefully sparkling eyes reflected anything but anger.

“What about a goddess who wants to participate in a ritual to earn Destiny’s favor?” Ipochone asked a sultry smile on her face.

“MOTHER!” Iane and Ayphera screamed in a melodious duet.

“Don’t you ‘Mother’ me! What has become of you - Humans? I am the Goddess of Love, man’s shallow morals have no hold over me.” Ipochone furiously blasted her daughters.

Properly chastised, Iane and Ayphera lowered their gazes to the ground and quieted. Now the gods were staring at Ipochone and her daughters. Suddenly Ebora burst out laughing, and soon every one of her siblings joined her.

“Well, we just witnessed a first tentative step to reconciliation between a mother and her daughters,” Athea grinning remarked when the laughter slowly died down. “I hope in time we all can become a family again. Finally, to answer Ipochone’s question, let’s say I can feel at least one part of the trinity is very much in favor of your request,” Athea finished wiggling in Roban’s lap.

“Thank you for your kind consideration,” Ipochone replied winking at Roban. “There is one more thing. I promised Feya I would deliver a gift from her to you, Athea.” She showed Athea the flask with its shiny multicolored content. “That’s Feya’s gift for you, drink it, and Chaos will retrieve her lost memories.”

When Ipochone had finished her sentence, she let a moment pass, and then threw the flask in a high arc towards Athea. While the flask flew high through the air, Athea -utterly surprised- glanced for a second at Ipochone and saw her gaze met by a gentle smile. Athea jumped off Roban’s lap reaching out to catch the flask, but in the last moment she pulled back her hand, and the flask shattered on the ground, close to her feet.

Silence

More Silence

Breaking the silence, Ipochone clapped her hand twice, in a gesture to wipe them clean. “Well, that’s done. Let’s dissolve this meeting on that happy note and join the festivities!” She merrily suggested.

The assembled gods followed her suggestion, while Athea silently stared down at the ground, watching the glass shards and the wet stain by her feet.

Why did you destroy my memories? Athea heard the question, and felt Chaos’ fury rising, threatening to make her head explode.

“I’m a fourteen year old girl, and we’ve been together for a few months now, right?”

No answer, only fury.

“A thousand years of memories; memories of past lives; memories of your brother dying time and time again; memories of your helplessness preventing it; and memories of your life as a goddess on Atyseos. How much weight will these memories have, compared to the few months’ time us, you and me, made and shared new memories?

No answer, but the fury faltered.

“That wasn’t a gift, it was a poison given to you to split us apart.”

FINE! You are right, Feya the bitch tried to poison us. But now I’ll have to continue listening helplessly to Kassja’s recollections of my past, and that’s no walk in the park either!

Chaos grumbled and Athea laughed.

A sudden stillness around her caught Athea’s attention and her awareness returned to the outer world. She immediately recognized the reason for the sudden stillness. Menja, a happy smile on her face and holding hands with a very tall, dark skinned young woman, skipped across the market in their direction. With her long, sinewy legs the woman had no problem matching Menja’s pace. Her long black hair was braided into a multitude of thin and tightly interwoven strands. The silver bands woven into the braids let her hair shine as much as her dark eyes. Her armor was a deep red brasserie made of boiled leather, fitting her so tightly, Athea supposed she had worn it during a bath and let it dry still wearing it. Her bare belly was definably muscled, and she wore linen bands wrapped around her hips as an alarmingly short skirt.