by Eric Vall
“Indeed, Dark One,” the goddess said softly. “It is called Soul Transferal, and once a human soul is transferred to another body, it no longer remembers its past life. He never leaves me, though I don’t think he understands why. He doesn’t remember me, but he still stays here and haunts me.”
The Tichádáma knelt by the water’s edge and dipped her hand into the water. As we watched, the massive shark launched itself halfway out of the water, and the goddess’s gray eyes watched it with sorrow. The shark’s mouth opened and closed as it exposed its massive teeth threateningly. She lay a single hand on its nose, and for a second, the great water creature went silent and stayed frozen as if it remembered the touch of her hand. The sage-green eyes swiveled in their sockets mindlessly, and the goddess removed her hand as the shark sunk back down into the water and hovered there. She turned back to me, her beautiful face hard and solemn as she stepped forward.
“I have only one request of you before you take me,” the Tichádáma murmured, and I bowed my head to her.
“What is it?” I inquired softly as she eyed the God Slayer with eyes filled with acceptance that the great polearm would take her last breath.
“Akuno, the descendant of Yoi,” she began. “Kill him and bring back his left hand. On his index finger, he wears a ring which bears my sigil. Return it to me, and I will allow you to take my life and my powers. I don’t want them anymore, they’ve done nothing but harm the people I love and care for so much.” Tears spilled down her cheeks, and as I used the puppet master’s power and read her mind, I could tell what she said was true. The weight of her power and the burden of what her people were doing was too much for this goddess to bear.
“Sever the line of death and destruction that started with Akuno’s ancestor and allow me to rest finally,” the goddess finished in a firm voice.
There was a moment of silence as the Tichádáma looked at me solemnly. I could tell from the glossiness of her eyes this was something she had wished for for thousands of years as she watched her people sacrifice each other and the creatures she cared for so much in her name. There was a moment of recognition for me, and I remembered her face from long ago, though she probably didn’t recognize me. Before the goddess was cast out of the god’s realm, she sat alongside my parents on the High Council. I was only a child then, and she most likely didn’t recognize my face, but I knew her.
I could understand her pain, she had been cast out by the very people who had done the same to me. Like Haruhi said, the Tichádáma was a goddess who befitted a true god’s death. She didn’t deserve the pains that had been thrust upon her nor did she ask for them. She was unlike the other gods we encountered. Instead of pleading for her life or forcing us to play some deadly game, she instead begged for her death and the release of her people from the tyrannical clutches of Akuno and his cursed lineage.
“The sigil ring, what is its significance?” I asked in a low voice as I took one step closer to the ageless being I barely knew from long ago.
“It was a gift to Yoi,” the great goddess stated in a powerful voice as she rose to her full height, and I could imagine her in the heavens. “I bestowed it to him when I put him in place as the lord of the city. It has been in his family since and now has been passed down to Akuno. The line of terror stops with him. My name has been the Tichádáma since I landed here after my fall from grace, my name means Silent Lady, but I will be silent no more.”
What Haruhi and the people of Kanashimi believed was true, the Tichádáma was a benevolent goddess who cared very deeply for the island and protected it the best she could. It was now my turn to take care of her and her wishes.
“And you will give up your powers willingly to me after I do this for you?” I inquired softly, and the goddess bowed her head to me.
“I would give them to you now, but they are an incentive if you do this one thing for me,” she told me as she brought her head back up and looked directly into my eyes.
“We will do as you ask,” I said to her kindly, and she pressed her delicate porcelain hands together and bowed to me respectfully. “We will bring back the hand and the sigil ring with it if it means you will submit yourself to me.”
“I already promised that I would.” The Dáma smiled down at us from her towering height. Her long black hair flowed around her shoulders, and her hardened gray eyes softened as she looked at us each in time. They stopped on Morrigan for a time, and the goddess’s smooth face went reflective and thoughtful. Her steel colored eyes wavered for a moment as she thought, and then they cleared as she turned to me softly.
“Go now, come back with the hand in your possession,” she pleaded, and without a word, I nodded and led my minions out of the dungeon.
Chapter Eighteen
When we surfaced out of the cave mouth, the cold night air was hot and humid compared to the frigid temperatures deep inside the Dáma’s prison. A deep chuckle bubbled up my throat as Rana stripped out of her coat and used one paw to fan herself.
The city far below our feet was dark and silent, only a few of the red lanterns still burned bright against the lurking night. This was a city that was about to receive two blows in one night, the death of the lord who watched over them and the end of the goddess who protected them. Annalise was the first to pull away from our group and head down the mountain.
“Annalise,” I called. “Wait for the others, we need to come up with a plan.”
“I want to kill this bastard as quickly as possible, Master. Don’t you see what he’s doing to her?” Then the High Queen rested her chocolate brown eyes on mine, and I could see the worry in them as she admitted what else was weighing heavily on her mind. “I would like … to get this done as soon as possible, we have pressing matters to attend to in Tintagal.”
“The Tichádáma deserves our attention,” Morrigan said in a bored tone, and despite the tension in the air, my wife ignored the comment.
“Annalise, I understand that, but we mustn’t rush things or run in unprepared,” I pressed, a reminder of the lessons she had learned from me in the past. “I’ve seen this man in action, and you’ve witnessed it too, he’s surprisingly wily and quick on his feet. We don’t want him slipping between our fingers right when we think we have him.”
“Yeah!” Rana said as she slammed her curled fist into her palm excitedly. “We have to come up with a plan!”
“Oh, I have an idea!” Carmedy cried as she came forward and bustled with the bundles at her waist. “I’ve been playing around with some new types of potions, and I’d really like to try one out!”
“I still think it would be best if we did this fast and easy,” the swordswoman mumbled under her breath.
“I personally think we should make a sneak attack, catch him with his pants down!” the fox-woman cackled.
“Did you actually see him? I’d rather not see him with his pants down … ” The feline’s nose wrinkled in response as she glanced at her sister warily.
“Do the people on Canarta really not use expressions?” the redhead said as she reached out and ruffled the petite cat’s black hair. “It’s just a figure of speech, you don’t have to take everything literally, pussycat.”
“We don’t use these ‘sayings’ that you’re always going on about! We say what we mean and mean what we say!” Carmedy nodded to herself.
“I think the best course of action is to meld the two plans together,” the High Elf stated plainly in her usual cold tone, and I turned to her and waited for her to continue speaking. “I think we should act swiftly but do it with stealth and silence.”
“I agree with you, Morrigan, I think that is the best plan,” I said with a smile. “Now, Carmedy, tell us about this new potion of yours.” I leaned down towards the shorter woman, and her wide emerald eyes sparkled in the darkness as she told us about her newest concoction.
The city of Kanashimi was quiet and sleeping as we crept closer to Akuno’s mansion. After the cult-like ecstasy of the Wailing, not even a lone
drunk prowled the streets. The lights within the mansion were dim as Fea and Macha took to the air soundlessly. Morrigan’s eyes went wholly black, and the dark mage marking across her pale forehead glowed red. The elf listened to the soft speaking of her familiars, and soon the two ravens returned, and the only sound was the soft flutter of wings as they landed back down on her shoulders. We looked at her and waited for her to speak.
“The library on the second floor of the west wing, that’s where we’ll find Akuno, but he is not alone,” she informed us in her cold tone as she stroked Fea and Macha’s beaks, and her eyes moved over the outside of the building.
“Could you see who the other person is?” I asked as I moved my eyes over the unguarded front door and the single lamp that hung from a chain above it.
“No, they were cloaked in black, but I could sense the magical power coming from them. We must be on high alert the entire time we’re inside,” the white-haired elf told us, and we nodded in agreement.
“Us four will go inside while Carmedy remains outside. Were Fea and Macha able to open the window enough?” I inquired.
Morrigan nodded once to tell me they had. “They were able to without being detected by either of the men,” she murmured as she stroked their black wings affectionately.
“Good. Carmedy, go put yourself in place outside the window on the west wing,” I instructed. “Take Macha with you, and Morrigan will tell you when to throw the potion in.”
The alchemist nodded then scurried over the fence with feline agility. Her black ears twitched in the air as she listened to far off noises, decided they were nowhere near us, and headed off. I watched her back disappear into the darkness as Macha bobbed on her small shoulder, and I only sensed a few stray heartbeats around us. From the slow, calm thumping, I could tell they were either from people sleeping nearby or the two people inside the mansion unaware they were about to be under attack.
My remaining three minions and I stepped towards the wrought iron gate, and with a flick of my wrist, it creaked open by using an ounce of my power. This would be easy for me, and I couldn’t wait to tear Akuno limb from limb. We quickly climbed the stairs to the massive oak front door, and with a sly smile on her lips, Morrigan raised her eyes to the lamp above our heads. The candle burning inside the metal and glass flickered once, then went out with a puff of gray smoke.
I placed my gloved hand over the handle of the door then stopped myself with a sly smile.
“Rana, why don’t you open the door for us?” I uttered as I gestured towards the door handle, and the fox wriggled forward excitedly, bent down beside me, and pulled from her pocket a roll of leather I had never seen before. She unfurled it, and I could faintly hear the soft click of metal tools brushing against each other. Rana pulled out a long tool with a bent tip and another that was completely straight.
She slid the straight tool in, then jimmied the curved one in after. There was a series of soft clicking noises that were barely audible to my other two minions and myself, but the fox kept her black-tipped ear pressed against the door. Her bright blue eyes were sharp as she listened to each distinctive click while she moved the curved tool around and pressed each locking mechanism.
“Hold these in place, please,” Rana instructed me and I did, not allowing my muscles to move even an inch in case the two tools slipped and wrecked the work she had done already. The red-haired woman pulled a third tool out, this one with a much longer curve than the first, and pushed it in between the other two. Her paw fiddled with it for a moment, her tongue planted firmly between her teeth as she concentrated, and then there was a loud click as the door’s lock turned. Rana breathed a sigh of relief and quickly packed away the tools. Then I swung the door open to reveal the insides of Akuno’s home.
The interior of Akuno’s home was splendid and decorated lavishly with imported furniture. I almost scoffed to myself as we passed a large full body oil painting of the lord. The artist had added a few inches to his squat stature and made his beady brown eyes less weasel-like. It was a boastful caricature of the man we met, and I examined it more closely as my women spread about the room and took in more of the expensive items inside.
The painting depicted Akuno as he leaned against a small column. In his left hand he held a beautiful black cane, the metal head shaped into the face of a beautiful woman, a homage to the goddess they praised so eagerly. On his left index finger rested the ring the Tichádáma mentioned. Her swirling sigil was pressed deep into the silver metal, and hues of emerald green around the sigil complimented the piece of jewelry perfectly. It was an exquisite ring and suited to someone worthier of it than Akuno. Past that portrait, various other paintings and tapestries hung along the walls, and all of them depicted Akuno. I assumed he was married from only one of the paintings but had seen no woman at the festival or at the ritual.
The woman seated below him in the painting was sickly, and the honey blonde hair cut short to her shoulders lacked the shine or luster of a healthy person. Her face was thin and her cheeks shallow, her cheekbones pointed out from underneath the skin at odd angles, and the way she gazed outward at the painter made it seem as if she really wasn’t there. Her deep blue eyes that matched the color of the Riese were dull and far away. Something didn’t seem right with the woman.
“It’s a postmortem painting,” Annalise whispered over my shoulder as she looked over the painting and the details of the seated woman. “It’s usually to keep the memory of the dead alive, but I’m unsure why he is in the painting, too.”
My wife reached out one slim finger and swiped away the dirt on the nameplate of the painting’s wooden frame. The plate embellished in gold and red details read ‘Akuno and Tōtsū Kuso.’
“Poor woman,” Rana breathed as she examined Akuno’s wife’s face for a second them moved on. “She had to be married to that terrible man.”
“Maybe they were in love?” the swordswoman murmured back as quietly as she could as she watched the fox-woman move on to another painting.
“To this guy?” the redhead asked with a scrunched-up face as she pointed to another extravagant picture that made Akuno more handsome than he really was. “I doubt it. There’s only one painting that includes her in this whole room, and it’s the one after her death. It’s all him.”
“I am tired of looking upon such a revolting creature’s face, let us move on to what we are here for,” Morrigan said coldly as she turned from the room and pointed towards the grand, sweeping staircase that led to the second floor where Akuno and his cloaked visitor waited.
“You’re just impatient to kill the Dáma,” Rana joked back in a hushed voice, and the High Elf glanced over her shoulder and nodded once as she stepped up onto the first step.
“I don’t think she’s as bad as you think, Morrigan,” the swordswoman murmured as she followed after the pale woman.
“A person who instructs others to kill by their command is still a killer in the end,” the white-haired woman muttered back over her shoulder, and I knew this was my moment to step in. I reached out and gently touched Morrigan’s pale, mage-marked hand, and she paused for a moment to look me in the eye.
“You are entitled to your own opinion, my love, but when that opinion is erroneous and condemns others of wrongs they have not committed, then I must intervene,” I told my elven lover in a firm voice, and she pressed her lips into a hard line. “I know it for myself to be true the Dáma has done nothing but help and lead her people. Your hatred of her is unfounded, and you should direct it where it truly belongs, at Akuno and his predecessors. They are the ones who took her word and convoluted it for their own devices. The goddess has wanted nothing but good things for the island, and she has given it to them no matter what they have done because she loves them, not because she is pleased with what they are doing.”
“Spare the rod, spoil the child,” Morrigan said to me as she stared up into my eyes.
I shook my head to show my displeasure. “I can understand your anger, I too f
elt the same way when we witnessed the Wailing, but I soon found out I was wrong about her. As Haruhi said, and the people Kanashimi believe, the Tichádáma is one of the last few goddesses befitting her title. She may have had her missteps while guiding her people, but that is not something we can fault her for when she tried to fix things by sending Klaus to the leader she trusted and put in place over her city. Kanashimi was not misguided by her hand, but by the people she put in place to watch over it in her stead.”
“Morrigan,” my wife interjected in an understanding voice as she placed a hand on my shoulder and stepped up closer to us on the stairs. “Didn’t you see how upset she was at the death of the animals? It broke her heart just as it did yours. She said so herself, the souls of animals are pure, and she keeps them with her to protect them. If anything, she’s more upset than you. We’ve all heard the tale of how when she was born all the aquatic animals sprang to life in the oceans and waterways. Don’t you think it hurts her? She gave life to them, they are her children, and the people who she loves so much sacrifice them to her like its nothing.”
“She offered up her life to me so easily, you were there, you saw it,” I stated as I held on tightly to the elf’s hand, and it trembled in my grasp. “Do you think someone who enjoys the killing of innocent creatures and humans would do such a thing? She is not a murderer, she loves this land and its people despite the horrible things they do. I showed you the protective sigils on the trees on our way here. Would a god who didn’t care for its land do such a thing? No. The Tichádáma wants Kanashimi to live on and survive without her.”
“It’s not fair,” Rana said from the bottom of the stairs as she leveled her blue eyes up at us. Morrigan turned her head to look down at her sister as the fox-woman continued. “You’re casting judgment on her just as people have done to me. You’re making assumptions that have been proven to be untrue, Morrigan. The real person you should be lashing out at is the man upstairs. His family and his lineage are the ones who took the word of the Tichádáma and made it wrong and twisted.”
