by Zoey Ellis
“What happened to your faction? Why were you without protection? I thought you said your faction was the most—”
A light knock fell on the door. “Not now!” Zendyor roared, jerking up from the bed.
Elora placed a hand on his chest, immediately seeking to calm him.
There was a pause at the door. “I have your omega’s belongings.”
Zendyor exhaled heavily. “I told them to bring your belongings in the night so they would be ready for you when you woke,” he muttered, but Elora could tell he was still annoyed at the interruption.
When he opened the door, two stewards brought in Elora’s belongings from her quarters. She didn’t have much, but they had brought all her items including the Dao table and the two chests.
“I wasn’t sure if you wanted the table or the bookshelf?” the steward asked her. It wasn’t a steward that Elora knew.
“No,” Zendyor said.
“I might want them,” Elora said, affronted.
“Anything you need, I will have it made for you,” Zendyor said. Dismissing the stewards. Elora bent to pick up a figurine that had fallen down from the Dao table. “I can’t believe you tried to say that the Goddesses were looking at me through these,” she said, smiling. “The amount of times I have played Dao and that never crossed my mind.”
Zendyor padded to her side and lifted one of the figurines. “It wasn’t a lie, that is what they say.”
“But is it true?” Elora said. “They’re your creators, don’t you know?”
“It wasn’t something that I ever cared to seek the truth about,” Zendyor said. “But yes, the idea is that they can see through the eyes of anything made in their image.”
Elora shook her head. “Then these are not something they can see through,” she said, shaking the figurine and putting it down the board. “They’re not made in their image.”
Zendyor chuckled, and then froze, shooting her strange look. “How do you know that?”
A cool breath of stillness gripped Elora. “What do you mean?”
Zendyor looked at the figurines. “How do you know these are not in the image of the Goddesses.”
Elora blinked, glancing again at the figurines. “Well, I don’t know that for sure….”
Zendyor was suddenly in front of her, towering over her, his expression alarmed and confused. “Why did you say that, Elora?”
Elora exhaled slowly. “I’ll tell you,” she said, gesturing to the bed and moving back toward it. Zendyor scooped her up and carried her the rest of the way. She held herself tense, unsure how he was going to react when she told him the rest of what she had to say.
“My faction truly was the best known to the North Cities,” she began. “The children in our faction could grow up without experiencing too much hunger or abuse or traumatizing situations. The adults of the faction shielded them from it, though not every adult was without their own issues. When it became clear that I was omega, like my mother, I was betrothed to a man within the faction, but one who was part of another family so that we could continue to grow the faction, as everyone else had done. I started learning how to raise the children and took on new responsibilities that mothers have to get used to when their children are born.” She shifted in his arms so that she was more comfortable. “When I reached the age of twenty-eight, I had yet to have my heat. And I couldn’t fulfill my duties until I had it. Marriage was obviously a luxury during the war, so my betrothed was simply the man who would impregnate me. There didn’t need to be love or affection—it was simply a task to be carried out. I was disappointed because my mama and papa truly loved each other, even though they were betrothed in the same way. I didn’t feel that kind of attraction toward the man I was betrothed to, but I hoped it would grow. Mama told me that in perilous times, having a trusted companion is more important and satisfying than attraction.” Elora closed her eyes, knowing that that was not true. Her attraction to Zendyor had dismissed her of that notion completely.
“Go on,” he said, agitation in his tone.
“The night before the official start of our relationship, when I was to take the heat inducer, I had a dream. And I suddenly found myself somewhere else.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was no longer in the North Cities, I was somewhere else, in a beautiful golden landscape that looked like it could have once been the North Cities, but definitely was not. A woman stood there, and she told me that it was time for me to make a decision. I didn’t know what she was talking about. I tried to walk away, but every time I turned around I was back where I started—with her in front of me among a golden landscape.”
A strange look appeared on Zendyor’s face.
“She told me her name and said she was one of the Seven Goddesses. And then the dream is hazy after that.” She took a breath. “But when I awoke, every single member of my faction was dead.”
Alarm streaked across Zendyor’s face. “How can that be? How did they die?”
“I don’t know,” Elora said. “I’ve never been able to figure out what happened to them. There were no wounds, no blood—it was as if their hearts just stopped beating.” At the memory of it, the mass of dead bodies she’d been trying so hard not to ever picture again, she broke into tears. “It was everyone. The children, the babies, my mama and papa, all of my aunties and uncles, everyone who made living in the war worth it.” She wiped the tears from her face. “I know it might seem silly, and I don’t wish to offend you, but I don’t believe it is a coincidence that they all died at the same time. I know it was only a dream, but only a Goddess could do something like that, and I don’t see why she did. We prayed to them every day, multiple times a day to keep us safe, to keep us from being hurt or separated. We prayed to them so that we didn’t starve, so that the children would grow up safe and well. And that is what she did. She took them from me and at the same time, made me vulnerable.” She swallowed, her voice lowering to a whisper. “You know the first story I told you about the little boy and girl? That was my mama and papa.” She forced her lips into a line to stop them trembling. “I can’t understand why a Goddess would do anything like this.”
Zendyor was silent. He turned away as he thought, exhaling a long breath. “What did she say to you?”
“I don’t know what happened in that dream,” Elora said. “I’ve tried, but….” She shrugged. “I don’t know if it’s because I don’t want to remember or if it’s because she did something. But I don’t know what happened.”
Zendyor was silent for a long time after that and Elora didn’t dare look at him. He had to be angry.
“Do you want to know?” he said, finally.
Elora blinked at him in disbelief. “Can you do something to find out?”
“Yes,” Zendyor said. “But it’s a very delicate process. Once it starts it cannot be stopped. And you will feel everything again.”
Elora sunk into thought. She’d been trying ever since that day to forget about what happened and drive it out of her mind, but if she could find out what was said, if anything, maybe it could explain why her family and friends had to die. And maybe she would no longer be so distrustful of the Goddesses.
Looking back at Zendyor, she asked, “Will you be able to see it too?”
He nodded.
That made her feel better. “All right.”
Zendyor held her close, and lifted his hand to hover over the side of her head.
“It might feel strange at first,” he said. “It may feel sharp, but it won’t hurt. Just try to relax.”
“What are you going to do?” she whispered.
“I’m going to cast an incantation that will help you remember.”
“An incantation to remember a dream?” she asked, somewhat skeptically. “I thought it was dangerous to access dreams using magic because they are so uncertain.”
“It is,” Zendyor said.
Elora lifted her head. “Then why are you doing it? Why are you risking it?”
“It may not be a dream, Elora,” he said. “Relax.”
Elora frowned and shook her head, the idea of that was so spectacular that for a while it could not register, but then he was chanting, fluently reciting complex words in the old language of his mother tongue.
Prickles scraped at her scalp, sparking from his hand, and she tensed at the feeling.
“Relax,” Zendyor said again, his voice smooth.
Elora took a deep breath and exhaled as a warm heat seeped into her head.
“Think back,” Zendyor said. “Try to remember the first thing that happened as soon as you saw her.”
Elora closed her eyes, thinking back to that moment, the golden city, the beautiful Goddess. A sharp pull at the back of her throat almost choked her, and when she opened her eyes, she was there.
It was beautiful; the city in the distance made a gorgeous skyline against a pinkish sky with white clouds. Plains of golden fields spread out around it; rich, healthy earth, golden and bountiful. Elora turned her head to see how far the landscape extended and found herself looking into the eyes of an extraordinarily stunning golden woman. She wore a long, flowing gown, accentuating a beautiful body, and golden braids fell to her waist. Her skin was golden, as was her jewelry and shoes. Even her eyes were a cool amber, and they looked over Elora carefully.
“Oh,” Elora said, startled. “I didn’t see you there. Where are we?”
“Greetings, Elora,” the woman said.
Elora stiffened. The woman’s voice was strange, almost as if it was coming from inside Elora. It had a slight echo to it as though it wasn’t real. Elora blinked and haziness flickered into the edges of her sight.
“Are you hearing me, Elora?”
Elora blinked back up at the woman. “Who are you?”
“My name is—” As she spoke her name a strange sound twisted through Elora’s mind. “I am one of the Goddesses you pray to every day.”
This couldn’t be real. Elora glanced around and then felt her own arms. She felt real, but everything else didn’t.
“Elora. I am sorry, but it is not possible for you to continue with your faction.”
“What do you mean?” Elora said, alarmed. “What have we done?”
“Nothing,” the woman said. “But you are not destined to stay with them. There are bigger things ahead for you, and you must accept your path.”
“What do you mean? I am to be bred tomorrow during my heat. There is nothing more important.”
“There is a much bigger responsibility on your shoulders, Elora,” the woman said. “And it is not that.”
Elora frowned at her. “What is it, then?”
“To answer that you must come with me.”
Elora frowned, offended by what the woman was saying. “I’m not leaving my faction. It is the safest place for me during the war.”
“No.”
“We are the strongest faction,” Elora argued, stubbornly. “If you were really a Goddess, you’d know that.”
The Goddess smiled, her beauty was almost painful. “There is much we cannot control about the lives of our creations,” she said, almost sadly. “You have free will to make the decisions and choices that you please. But sometimes we have to intervene to ensure an outcome. Your Mama and Papa are good people, but they can only do what they know. And even though they sense you are different, they would not ever imagine sending their child away, so intervene I must.”
Elora shook her, confused. “Send me where?”
“To take you to your rightful place.”
Elora exhaled in frustration. She had to be dreaming, and it was a maddening one. She looked around again, the startling gold almost blinding her. “Where are we?”
“We are in the Seven Kingdoms.”
“Where’s that?”
“A place I hope your children’s children will visit someday.”
“Why don’t you do anything about the war?” Elora snapped. “Why don’t you stop it and protect us.”
“We cannot control the will of our creations,” the Goddess repeated. “We never could. All we can do is guide and be the example.”
“What example are you being?” Elora almost shouted. “You disappeared.”
“Our legacy is the example,” she said. “How we are remembered is relevant. We would not do any good if we were present in your land right now. There are those who are willing to do harm in our name, whether we condone it or not. There are those willing to harm our creations, to tear down everything we have loved. We cannot be present in the face of that. It must be up to your kind to end the violence.”
“But it is our kind who is committing it. The king and queen control it, not us.”
“They are hurting. They will not listen to reason. They need time.”
At that, Elora was furious. “They need time to heal while they kill the rest of us?” she shouted. “Why do they get such preferential treatment?”
The Goddess gave her a look as if she should already know. “Because they have power. Power is the only thing that matters. You have made it so in the world you have created for yourselves. And that is what I offer you.”
“What do you mean?”
“You are far superior to anyone in your faction, Elora, and to most in the Twin Realms. I am giving you the chance to come into your power now, safely and without fear or harm.”
“To help my faction?”
“No.”
Elora shook her head. “I am not doing anything unless it is to support my faction,” she said firmly. “You may be willing to abandon us, but I have been raised to protect and care for my faction with all of my being.”
“You cannot refuse this,” the Goddess said, her voice dropping a tone.
“Why not? You allow everyone their free will except for me?”
The Goddess’s face shifted and transformed in order to adopt a different expression. “What I mean is, you cannot refuse this offer without the promise of pain and suffering. We would prefer not to have you endure that. The choice is yours.”
“What choice? You’re asking me to leave my faction to accept some power that won’t help them. Or I will suffer.”
“Yes. That’s still a choice, even if you don’t like the options.” The Goddess looked at her closely.
Elora exhaled, agitated. Why was she talking in riddles? She turned to look over the landscape.
“Your instincts will lead you to the right place, whether you accept my offer or not,” the Goddess said.
Elora closed her eyes and quietened her mind. “Why me?”
“I did not choose you, Elora. I am only assisting the one who did.”
Another riddle. Elora shook her head, unable to believe what a disappointment the Goddesses were.
And as the thought crossed her mind the Goddess’ expression darkened. “I am your divine mother,” she said sternly. “And whether you realize it or not, there are bigger things at stake than your faction. What is your decision?”
“Help us survive the war, and I will do whatever you wish, but I am not leaving them.”
The Goddess bowed her head gracefully. “As you wish. When you change your mind, just say my name to accept your power.”
“I won’t change my mind.”
“To avoid a repetition of what is about to happen, you must.” Her voice was almost sad.
With that she faded, and the golden landscape faded with her.
Elora fought to escape the dream.
She jerked and wriggled, dragging herself out of the golden haziness in her mind, and when she finally opened her eyes, she was already sobbing.
“She killed them,” she gasped. “She killed them because I wouldn’t leave them.”
The heartache, loss, and devastation that she had felt that day tunneled back into her, and with the memory of the Goddess, knowing it was because of her decision made it a thousand times worse.
Zendyor was silent as he held her, giving her all the comfort he possibly could, but even the comfort of hi
s scent and body wasn’t enough to erase the hopelessness and guilt that wracked her. She’d been the one to kill her own faction—she had made the choice that had forced her into the lairs of the dragorai. “Why did she do it?” she sobbed. “Why couldn’t she tell me what she was going to do?”
“The Goddesses are incapable of speaking plainly,” Zendyor said. “Their words take some deciphering. I’m sure even the answers you thought you understood meant something else.” He pulled her back, brushing away her tears with his thumb and tilting her head her eyes up to him. “She said she had to ensure an outcome. Do you know what powers she is referring to?”
“No, I have never had any kind of power. I don’t know what she’s talking about.”
“And if you say her name, you will gain the power.”
“I don’t want it!” Elora screamed suddenly, a fury gripping her so hard that her entire body trembled. “I don’t want what she wants to give me, whatever she killed my family to force upon me. I hate her. I hate them all.”
Zendyor pulled her back into him, holding her tight and pushing her head into his neck so she could feel secure and take comfort from his hold, his scent, and his body.
The bitterness of the truth of what truly happened to her faction soured her deeply. She’d never been so proud to be part of a community of kind-hearted people, a community made up of her own family, only to discover that she was responsible for killing them.
She sobbed until she could cry no longer, and then she lay numb in Zendyor’s arms, a new perspective appearing to her like a fog clearing on a desolate field.
The Goddess had threatened that if she did not come into her power then something like that would happen again. Did that mean she was going to kill the staff at Nyro’s lair? Or the staff here? Why would she do that? What did the Goddesses really want from her?
She nestled into Zendyor’s chest and sobbed, seeking his warmth to drown out the desolation she was drowning in. Hours later, she drifted to a troubled sleep.
9
Elora drifted in and out of sleep the next day. She kept saying she wasn’t hungry, but Zendyor forced her to eat, getting her meals delivered straight to his chambers.
