by Rosie Scott
All of the men who had served us earlier filed into the room again, beginning to clean up after us.
“Who made all that food?” Nyx asked, bluntly. I could tell the wine had made her more boisterous.
“We did, Miss,” the closest man replied, bowing slightly toward her. “Was it to your—”
“It was fucking delicious,” my friend replied, before a pleasured sigh.
The man looked shocked at her response, but he bowed again anyway. “Thank you, Miss.”
One of the workers walked over to me, bowing down beside my ear. “Your mother will see you now, Miss Sera,” he said.
My heart picked up its pace. “My friends are coming with me,” I informed him, remembering the exchange earlier at the gate.
“Yes, she allows this.” Allows. His word usage was interesting.
The five of us stood up, and we began to follow the man back through the doorway we'd entered earlier, and back up the steps. When we reached the floor even with the outside, he continued to lead us upward, past more floors, until finally, he stopped. Before us, at the top of the stairs, was a thick wooden door. White with gold trim, like everything else.
I glanced around the wall of the stairwell, finding even more steps. “There are many floors here,” I commented, as if to get my mind off of meeting my mother for the first time.
“Yes,” the man replied, before knocking on the door twice. Footsteps padded toward us from the other side. “Floors continue to the top of the mountain. Whispermere has fifty in all. Fifteen above the bridge, thirty-five below.”
“...wow.” That new information made me realize that everything outdoors was not the actual village of Whispermere, but just a ridiculously large patio.
I heard the sound of a lock sliding out of place, and I focused on the door, my heart raging in my ears. The door opened before us, and a young woman, her skin gold like the rest of them, answered the door. She nodded toward me.
“Come,” she said, simply. The man who had led us here had already disappeared down the steps from where we'd come. I hadn't seen him leave.
I followed the woman through the door. This was a large room, with higher ceilings than the other floors, and a carpet made of deep red that stretched through to the other side across from the door. Unlike the other floors, this floor had no hallways, no extra rooms. The floor was the room.
My eyes caught on what appeared to be a throne, sitting all of the way against the other wall. Upon it was a woman. My heart started beating even harder, feeling as if it was tripping over itself.
The walk toward her was impossibly slow. The closer we got, the more I saw of her, the more I realized this could not possibly be my mother.
She was dressed in an immaculate golden gown, the V-neck of it barely containing her large breasts, which were clearly a source of pride for her as she puffed her chest outward like the only rooster of a coop. The fabric was cut diagonally across her legs, showing more of her right leg than her left, which she had crossed. A golden band with a rainbow of gemstones across the front covered a strip of her hair, which was as black as the night, like Cerin's; her eyes were impossibly gold, unlike anyone else I'd ever seen—save for myself. Her skin was the same almond cream as my own, but was free from imperfection, unlike mine, which was dotted with freckles across my forearms. Her toenails were painted gold, and showed themselves from beneath the golden strap of a pair of heels that defied the laws of physics with their height.
The woman and I had our similarities, but she was so far removed from how I viewed myself that I refused to believe she was my mother. I knew for a fact, however, that this woman had to be the ruler of Whispermere. She was sitting on a throne, after all, and she was the only one whose skin was not painted. But she could not be my mother. After all, she appeared to only be in her early thirties.
Our guide left us just a few meters from the woman in the throne. If I were to prove to this woman that I came from royalty, the time was now.
“I am Kai Sera,” I greeted her, my voice clear and confident. “I am looking for my mother.”
The woman smiled, her eyes moving from me to each of my companions, before coming back to me. The smile was not one of happiness, but amusement. “And you have found her.”
There was an ache in my gut. “Have I?”
“Why yes,” the woman replied, before chuckling. The gold-painted fingernails of her right hand drummed along the arm rest of her throne. “My dear.”
I was overwhelmed with questions and confusion, and what made it worse is that this woman seemed to delight in it. “You are too young to be my mother,” I protested, desperate for answers.
“Am I?” She laughed heartily, as if this was the most amusement she'd had in a long while.
“You are not elven,” I said, staring at her human ears.
“No, I am not. But you, daughter, are a half-breed.”
This information only served to further confuse me. I stood there for awhile, silent, my mind sorting through possibilities at impossible rates. The woman before me looked human. She had admitted she wasn't elven. She was too tall and thin to be dwarven. She was not some creature-esque race that I had only heard stories of.
“I will tell you my name, child, so that we may hurry this along,” she offered, uncrossing her legs, just to switch to her other hip and recross them. “I am Nanya.”
I heard Nyx gasp softly behind me. It made me realize just where I'd heard the name before.
“You are named after the goddess of lust,” I said, my words nothing but desperate rambles. “I do not understand—”
“Oh, dear child,” Nanya replied, rolling her eyes with impatience. “I did not expect you to be so daft.” She sighed, and sat up straighter, the eyes that perfectly matched mine looking over me. “Kai, you are a god.”
Fifteen
Nanya's words echoed in my mind, over and over. It felt like the room was spinning around me. I was getting all of the answers I ever sought, and I hated them more than I could have ever known.
My mother watched me process this information, but no one said a word. The only person in our group I knew to believe in the gods at all was Silas. Nyx had often jokingly thanked Nanya for happenings in her life, but I figured that it had been due to an association with her as an Alderi child, as her race worshiped the goddess.
I heard my friends awkwardly shift behind me, and knew the silence was becoming overbearing. None of them spoke out of respect for me. Nanya, however, was expecting an answer, and by the looks of it, was annoyed that I hadn't immediately celebrated.
I finally replied to her, and the word echoed loudly against the chamber's walls. “Bullshit.”
Nanya's perfectly groomed eyebrows rose. “Excuse me?”
“I do not believe in the gods,” I said, our golden eyes locked and growing in hostility.
She laughed heartily, though her eyes were wide with disbelief. “You do not? I am sitting here in front of you. Tell me, are you both dumb and blind?”
“You look as human as anyone else. If you are a god, what are your powers?” I prodded.
She looked offended. “I have no need to prove my powers to you.”
“Then I suppose I have no need to believe what you say. Perhaps you are not a god, but a scam artist.”
“You are testing my patience, child.” The last word was barely more than a hiss. “I can make any mortal fall in love with me, for so long as they are not romantically attached.”
I raised one eyebrow. “Can you?”
“Yes.” Nanya scanned her eyes over our group. “And I can sense that only one of you is untied from romance.”
One of us? I thought over our group, particularly of Theron and Nyx. Either Nanya was incorrect, or we had secrets amongst ourselves.
“I am unimpressed, Nanya,” I finally replied. “You have a power that benefits no one but you. My friend Silas, here, can speak to plant life. Does that make him a god? Theron can brew potions that can heal or poison t
he body. Does that make him a god? Nyx can see clearly in the dark. Does that make her a god? Cerin can raise the dead. Does that make him a god?”
Nanya's nostrils flared. “They are not gods, for I do not know them.”
“And you know all the gods?”
“Yes. They have existed for hundreds or even thousands of years. It is why we are prohibited from breeding. It is why you were taken to Sera.”
For once, my anger had subsided during our conversation, paving the way once more for curiosity and desperation. “Why do I exist?”
“Because I had sex with a man who was more powerful than I knew,” Nanya replied. “I did not think I could breed with mortals. He appeared mortal. Human, even.” The word human had been said with disgust. “I do not know what he was. All I knew was that I was pregnant, and that it wasn't supposed to happen. I have bedded thousands of men and have never been pregnant.”
“Perhaps he had golden eyes,” I said. “Perhaps he was one of your breed.”
“Breed? You would mock the gods?”
“I do not mock them,” I replied, evenly. “I simply call them for what I see them as. Just another race. There is nothing that makes you special from any other race.”
Nanya's jaw stiffened. “If you want any more answers from me, I suggest you respect my position.”
“I will respect it as I respect anyone else's,” I retorted.
My mother and I stared at each other for a long while, before she finally broke, looking away and laughing. “Perhaps I should be thankful you did not turn out to be weak and subservient,” she mused. “Your attitude is causing me to believe you have gotten more of my blood in you than it appears.”
I wasn't sure whether or not to take that as an insult. “Than it appears? Do I look more like my father?”
Her eyes fell upon me once more. “Very much so, yes. But I would not go so far as to call him your father.”
I frowned. “Why? That makes no sense.”
“He is a man, Kai,” she replied, glancing over my male friends in disgust. “He is not worthy of such a title.”
I tilted my head in confusion. “You have something against men,” I said, as a statement. Between her words here and how they were treated throughout Whispermere, it had dawned on me as an obvious fact.
“They are weak, filthy creatures,” she replied, as if I would agree. “I am, frankly, offended you would bring three to my court. They are the first men who have been in this room since it was built.”
“Why was it not women, then, who built this place?” I asked. “Why did you need men to build it for you?”
“Men built it for me because they are mentally weak,” Nanya retorted. “They will agree to anything if there is a chance for sex.”
“That is why they are in servitude to you here,” I replied, understanding. “You make them fall in love with you, so they stay and worship you for the slight chance of being in bed with a god.”
A smirk rose one side of her lips. “Perhaps you are not so daft.”
“I am not daft, no. I have seen this situation before. There have been whores for as long as there have been people. It is your sexism that gives me confusion. Are you so angry with men because you desire them and need them, and your ego won't allow you to place the blame on yourself? The feast you fed us was magnificent, mother. Surely, you would be able to find some sort of oblong vegetable that would satisfy your need.”
Nanya watched me, silent, her lips pursed. Her long fingernails still tapped patterns over her armrest. Finally, her golden eyes focused on those behind me.
“Leave us.”
“They come with me wherever I go,” I said, feeling as if I were on repeat.
“Then you will all leave,” Nanya replied.
“Very well.” I turned toward my friends. Everyone seemed a little flabbergasted at our situation, and I couldn't blame them. My mind was swirling with repeats of our conversation, feeling foggy with an influx of information.
“Kai.” It echoed off the chamber walls. I turned back toward my mother, who appeared angry, but conflicted. “We will never come to terms with one another. I see that, now. But there are things I need to tell you, and I do not trust your friends.”
I thought about this for a moment. The plea seemed genuine. “I will not be alone with you.”
Nanya nodded. “Fine. Bring one friend. Tomorrow morning, I will send someone for you. For tonight, I have had rooms prepared for you in the levels below. Talk to the servants if you need anything—food, hot baths, bedding—they all know why you are here and have been instructed to treat you as I.”
For a moment, I felt enough sympathy with my mother to almost like her. She had clearly gone out of her way to try to impress me on my visit. Maybe she'd had the same wishes for a relationship as I'd had. At this point, most of that had gone out the window. We were too different. She was not even a person I felt I could come to admire. I thought of all of the men forced into servitude here, all for the slight chance of being with someone they thought they loved. It made me sick. There were many men in my life I loved or at least cared deeply for and admired. Bjorn, Terran, Silas, Cerin, and now, Theron...even imagining them treated in such a way disgusted and angered me.
“Thank you,” I finally said to her, though my mind was elsewhere. I saw my mother nod, and then I turned away once more. I followed my friends back out of the long room, where we were greeted at the door by a male servant, who proceeded to lead us down some floors and to our rooms.
There were five rooms prepared for us, all blocks etched out of stone, and each with its own lockable door, which I was thankful for given I didn't fully trust this place. Nyx insisted I take the farthest room away from the stairway, so that if my mother or her servants tried anything, they would have to walk past all other rooms to get to me.
It was a relief to be able to drop the majority of my things down onto the ground and have somewhere to keep them. I pushed most of my things under the bed: loot, extra purses of gold looted from the wyvern's lair, and a knapsack full of personal belongings. The bathtub was large and inviting, but I skipped on that for now. I knew the others and I had plans to get together and talk on the open part of the mountain peak tonight, for we had a lot to talk about.
I did take advantage of the personal toilet in the room, noting how the hole for it looked like it drained to the next floor down. It was nice not to have to squat to go to the bathroom for once. When I was done, I took the water bucket nearby and poured the liquid around the edges of the bowl, doing my part to keep it clean.
Next, I stripped my armor off carefully, and laid it out to dry from my sweat on the floor. The servant who had led us here offered to do our laundry if we left it outside our doors tonight, which was a relief. My underclothes smelled of long days of travel, and I wasn't really willing to change into my clean pair until I'd had a bath.
Knock knock.
I glanced toward the door, before grabbing my cloak and pulling it over me in preparation for the cold of the outdoors if that was Nyx telling me to come out with them. Holding the two sides of the cloak together in front of my undershirt with one hand, I opened the door with the other.
Theron stood just outside, alone. He appeared a little embarrassed that he'd caught me without my armor. When camping, I usually waited to take it off until I was in my tent, so he'd never seen me like this.
“I apologize for disturbing you, Kai. I can come back.”
“Nonsense. I'm just relaxing.” I glanced to the side of him, where no one else stood. “Are we going outside?”
“Not yet,” he replied, glancing down the hall to his left, where the other rooms were. “I wondered if I could speak with you.”
That was odd. Theron had never requested this before. It made me wonder if something was wrong until I remembered hiring him back in Sera, and our deal for him to bring us here to Whispermere. My stomach started to ache. He was probably wanting the remainder of his pay, so he could be on his way.
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I nodded, and moved to the side of my doorway. “Come in.”
Theron chuckled low as he walked past me into my room. “You are...unconventional.”
I closed the door to give us some privacy, before turning to face him. “Should I apologize for that?”
“No, not at all.” He leaned his tall form back against the stone wall. The ranger was normally pretty quiet, and did not speak unless he felt he needed to. Still, he looked a little hesitant to speak now, despite having something on his mind.
“Are you leaving us?” I asked him, in case he wasn't looking forward to saying it.
Theron's eyes flicked up to mine. “While that is what I wanted to speak with you about, that was not the option I was considering. Your...” he trailed off, his right hand grazing along the handle of his right blade absentmindedly, “...offer from Sera...does it still stand?”
“Both of them do. If you were looking to leave us, I can pay you here. If you wanted to stay, you are more than welcome.” I watched him carefully, unsure which he wanted.
“You have not said anything about keeping me in your company, and you have hired Cerin on. I thought, perhaps, you had no need of me. Particularly after my failure with the wyvern.” He slowly met my gaze again, looking humbled.
“I have not said anything about keeping you because I felt no need to clarify it,” I replied. “I want you to stay, and the others feel likewise. If the hiring of Cerin makes you fear for your share of the gold, we can—”
“No, that did not cross my mind,” he admitted. “My back aches each day with what loot and gold I have made with you. More would be a burden, particularly with nowhere to spend it.”
“I am sure our travels will take us to merchants in the future,” I mused.
Theron took note of my wording. “If you would have me, I would like to stay with you for that.”
“Then there's no discussion, Theron. You will be there.”
The ranger smiled. “You treat your mercenaries as friends. One could get used to that.”
