Ambrosia

by Aaron Lee Yeager

  * * *

  Storgen was led past the fountained entry chamber of Ambera’s temple and into the ritual halls. The corridor started making his chest feel a little tight, but he was pleased to find when they opened the door to one of the antechambers that the fine marble ceilings were nice and tall, covered with grandiose and exaggerated engravings of the goddess.

  He had never been inside a worship room before, and it was as elegant and lavish as he’d imagined. Lush candles lined the walls, bathing the room in delicate, passionate light, filling the air with sweet strawberry and sandalwood. Circular satin beds with translucent silken canopies, cool pools of steaming warm water for ritualistic bathing and cleansing, and a truly impressive arrangement of exotic foods known to improve stamina.

  Everywhere there was the symbol of Ambera, embroidered into the pillows, woven into the bedsheets, embossed on the fixtures; even the candle flames flickered into the shape of her fox-shaped crest as they danced on their wicks. This is where her followers worshipped their goddess. At the far end stood a beautiful ring of alchemic gold, ready to draw in and concentrate the worship into pure tribute.

  It startled him when the doors closed behind him, and he realized he had been momentarily lost in the beauty of this place.

  “Well, well, well, you certainly clean up nice, don’t you?” came a sultry voice.

  Erolina stepped out from behind a silken canopy and lit the last of the candles, blowing out the match with her full and luscious lips. The chiton she wore clung to her tall, shapely body. Her silver hair was done up in magnificent waves, drawing attention to the delicious curve of the nape of her neck.

  “T-thank you,” he replied, his voice a little lost. “So do you.”

  She smiled knowingly and walked towards him, her movements impossibly graceful. He had always found her lovely, but here in this place, dressed as she was, she was truly, radiant.

  “Do you find me attractive?” she asked, looking at him with smoky red eyes.

  “Are you kidding? Of course I do.”

  “Mhm,” she hummed sensually, draping her hands around his shoulders. “I also find you very attractive. I have since the first time we met.”

  “Thank you.”

  She was so close to him now. Her presence was absolutely bewitching. She closed her eyes and leaned in closer, tilting her head just so to accept him, and then, with luscious anticipation, awaited his kiss.

  “So, um, you summoned me?”

  She cracked an eye open. “Yes.”

  “So, ah, what do you want?”

  She couldn’t help but snicker. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Well, they just brought me here, they didn’t say what for.”

  She tilted her head back. “I think it’s pretty obvious what we’re about to do.”

  “Well, yeah. You want me to sleep with you.”

  “There won’t be any sleeping involved, I promise you.”

  “But I thought you hated me.”

  She chuckled a little. “What does that have to do with it?”

  “At least a little, I would think.”

  “Don’t you know? Amazons can only bear female offspring, so when we are of age, we are sent out beyond our borders to find a worthy man and bear his child.”

  Storgen stepped back away. “So, it’s not me, then? You’d lie with just anybody?”

  She shook her head, her dazzling earrings sparkling in the candlelight. “If amazons bred with weak men, our daughters would be weak. We must mate with the strongest men we can find, so that our daughters will be strong. You are a man who, without any weapons or armor, defeated one of the greatest champions in Garralos.”

  She slinked down and sat on the edge of the bed, caressing her fingers across the fine material. “I will bring much honor to my tribe when I bear the child of such a man back with me.”

  “So, you’re just here to get my child?”

  “Well, I’m not keeping you around for your personality, that’s for sure.”

  “You’re kind of treating me like a piece of meat, here.”

  “Aww, I’ll make it better,” she purred, patting the bed and inviting him to join her. “I’ll take you out to dinner afterwards, maybe buy you something pretty.”

  “Yeah, because that doesn’t sound condescending.”

  She laid down and stretched, drawing attention to her flawless body. “I promise you, I will make it worth your while. In addition to absorbing energy, the women of my tribe can also change its form.”

  Her hands began to glow with a violet mist. “Haven’t you ever heard of the amazon’s touch?”

  “I think I saw a gentlemen’s club named that once.”

  “I can release pleasure directly into your nervous system, stimulate your body to levels of ecstasy beyond what one could normally experience by several orders of magnitude.”

  Storgen became lost in the light. It seemed to draw into his eyes. Just looking at it gave him goosebumps, his heart pounding in anticipation.

  “Well, thank you, I’m flattered…” he began.

  “Well, all right, then, take your clothes off.”

  “…but I’m afraid I am already spoken for.”

  She stared at him. “Wait, you’re actually serious?”

  “Aren’t I always?”

  She sat up. “You? The guy who works at the pita stand? YOU are turning down the amazon’s touch?”

  “So much for champion, eh? Now I’m just the pita guy again.”

  She stood up. “Where do you get the nerve?!”

  “Look, it’s nothing personal, it’s just that my heart belongs to another.”

  “Nothing personal? It’s an insult. How dare you turn me down? You haven’t even met this girl yet.”

  “Well, that’s true.”

  “So, it’s okay then.”

  “Well, no.”

  “Why the trell not?”

  “Think about it. How do you think she’ll feel when we meet if she finds out I’d slept with a bunch of women before I found her?”

  “She wouldn’t know.”

  “I would know.”

  Erolina covered her mouth. “Ero’s Throne, are…are you a virgin?”

  “Of course I am.”

  “Holy turd!”

  She fell back on the bed, laughing uncontrollably.

  “You find that funny, do you?”

  “Of course I do.” She laughed so hard her belly ached.

  He folded his arms. “I wouldn’t expect an amazon to understand.”

  “Oh please,” she snorted, propping herself up on one elbow. “Don’t pretend that humans are any different. You’re animals, just like the rest of us.”

  “Only if we act like animals.”

  “Monogamy is a joke. Humans are not naturally monogamous. When too many STD’s threatened your kind, you adopted the practice out of necessity to stop the diseases from wiping you out, but it’s not how you were designed to exist.”

  “I don’t believe that at all.”

  “Oh yeah, why?”

  “Because if that is how we were meant to be, living that way wouldn’t leave people hollow inside.”

  Her laugher stopped and she grew silent and serious.

  “You know I’m right,” he stressed.

  “Pffft, what do you know about it, virgin?”

  “I know enough not to sleep with someone who doesn’t respect me.”

  He turned around and started making for the door.

  “This is ridiculous!” she shouted after him. “You are attracted to me, I’m attracted to you. That’s all love is.”

  He opened the door and paused. “No, it’s more than that.”

  The door closed behind him, and she was left alone amid the candles and incense. She looked around in disbelief and lifted up her hands.

  “What the crap just happened?”

  Chapter Ten

  Krasi loves the drunkard and the boastful, the lazy and the spiteful. He is one of the only gods
with temples both in the glorious empire of Erotan, and the loathsome nation of Agadis, and his sanctuaries predate both by many centuries. Generally despised by other gods in the Pantheon, Krasi was the first to leave the heavens and live in the world below, though by some accounts he was banished for the trouble he caused. He was disgusted when the Fates first revealed their plans to create mankind, and objected more than any other god. He suspected the Fates of attempting to replace the gods with inferior mortal copies. His objections were ignored, and in his wrath he set about to destroy the designs of the Fates. Whereas humans were intelligent, he aimed to dull their wits to that of mere beasts; whereas humans possessed self-control, his design was to rob them of their mastery and enslave them to vice. When the first humans awoke, he presented himself to them as a being of light, offering them the wines and strong drinks he had created from the fruits of the world. But despite his efforts, the humans would not heed to him. And so, he began to kidnap them, whisking in at night and stealing away many of their numbers. He held them in his caves, poisoning their bodies until, mad and half-starved, he would release them back into their villages. Now hungered and craving his drink, he found humans willing students of his arts. He taught them how to make vineyards and distilleries, and thus the curse of alcohol was slowly spread until it touched every human in the world to this day.

  - Get to Know Your Pantheon: A Handy Guide to Avoiding Damnation. Published in Erotan 389 H.B. to present

  Agaprei stepped out of the champion’s academy holding a bag of coins, and did the best she could do muscle her way through the crowd of gossiping young men.

  “Agaprei, did you hear? Those filthy alchemists in Erotan have a new weapon,” one gushed.

  “A new weapon?”

  “Yeah, their fertility goddess has bred a new kind of human, a weaponized human.”

  “It killed a minotaur champion just by touching it.”

  Agaprei rolled her eyes. “Guys, you shouldn’t believe scuttlebutt like that.”

  “When will we see you again?” one pouted.

  “Is it true that you are transferring to another academy?” another pressed.

  “Is it true that sirens can see in the dark?”

  “Oh, come now, boys, a lady has to keep some secrets, doesn’t she?”

  The young men waved despondently as she stepped out into the street. She gave them a polite wave, then set out for the central rib, excited and eager to relieve her stress with a little retail therapy. About half way down the block, she found herself blocked by a large pile of ego and testosterone that someone had molded into the shape of a human.

  “Nice to see you again, Agaprei,” he said, puffing his chest out to show off his pectoral muscles.

  Her long, pointed ears drooped. “Hello, Cleon.”

  “What’s with the purse?”

  “The dean refunded my tuition.”

  “It’s wet. Did he spit on it?”

  “No, those are tears. It’s strange, I’ve never seen a grown man cry like that before.”

  “Well, I suppose that will free up your schedule,” he said, running his fingers through his heavily oiled hair. “Let’s go check out the dragon races.”

  “I’d really rather not.”

  She slipped past him, but then found a meaty hand on her shoulder.

  “That wasn’t an invitation,” Cleon said confidently.

  Agaprei’s eyes narrowed venomously.

  She turned around and gave him a sweet smile. “All right, but I’m all sweaty from my workout. Do you mind if I go take a quick shower and get changed first?”

  He released her and folded his arms. “Take your time.”

  “Okay, you wait here,” she said, blowing him a kiss. “I’ll wear something pretty.”

  She walked on, a satisfied smirk on her face as she wondered how many hours Cleon would wait before he realized she wasn’t coming. Then she found her path blocked once more.

  “Huh, strange, the oracle didn’t say anything about it raining men today,” she said to herself.

  Erebus kept his long, thick beard in braids across his barrel-chest, the runes carved into his horned helmet glowing ominously. “I heard you made a visit to my academy yesterday. You beat three of my best instructors to a pulp.”

  “Nonsense, Chief Erebus. They merely suffered mild hematoma and disruption of subcutaneous tissue; had I actually used sufficient blunt trauma to jellify their interstitial tissues, they would likely not have survived the procedure.”

  Erebus pumped his fist into his palm. “The point is, you made my school a laughing stock, filthy siren, and I mean to balance the scales with a few pounds of flesh.”

  “Those must be some really disgusting scales.”

  He pointed a thick finger. “I challenge you.”

  She shrugged. “All right, if you must.” She pointed her thumb back behind her at Cleon, who was admiring his reflection in a shield. “See that guy back there? He’s my boyfriend. He will fight you as my proxy.”

  Erebus cracked his knuckles. “Excellent.”

  She stepped aside and cupped her hands over her mouth. “Hey Cleon, this guy just called me a disgusting filthy siren!”

  Cleon turned around, enraged. “What?!”

  She held up her hand. “And…begin!”

  The two men charged one another, clashing in the middle of the street and smashing a fruit cart to pieces.

  She walked away, an impish little grin on her face as the two pummeled one another, flipping over tables, breaking through windows, and screaming wildly as they fought. Onlookers began to cheer at the brawl, and a couple started fights amongst themselves just for fun.

  Agaprei strolled down the dusty street, the occasional cluster of wooden shacks and timber forts breaking up the lines of the vast farmland sprawling out before her. Herds of cattle perfumed the air and clusters of goats sang out amid the cool morning breeze. The sharp and cold Cheimónas mountains sat like a horseshoe on three sides of the horizon, the entire valley bowled like an impact crater.

  A shadow fell over her and she looked up. Thousands of feet above were the remains of a titan, a giant, bleached ribcage extending from one end of the valley to the other. Many houses and shops were carved directly into the boney material itself, windows and doors spattered amid the enormous rib bones. Others hung below, suspended like giant bird feeders with strong, enchanted cables. The best businesses and temples sat atop the sternum, a crowded little city suspended above the clouds while the farmers toiled below.

  To save time, she cut across the floating rib. There, a line of people waited to be transported to the city above. A traveling merchant stepped into the middle of the standing stone circle, huge, fifty-ton violet crystals with aged runes humming to life as the bored musician attempted to coax a few more drops from his empty flagon.

  “Where ya going?” he slurred.

  “The mead hall,” the merchant responded.

  “Hey, can I go with ya?”

  They both had a good belly laugh as the musician cleaned the mouthpiece of his runic horn. He let off a long note, surprisingly pure for the wear of the horn. Veins of glowing energy traced through the crystals and the horn, and a shield of ghostly energy appeared beneath the merchant’s feet, whisking him through the low clouds to the city above.

  The musician belched. “Next.”

  As Agaprei cut through the circle, all the crystals went silent, their runes flickering out until they became inert stone. The people in line groaned and moaned, the women cursing just as loud as the men. One of the men took off his helmet and threw it to the ground. The musician inspected his horn with bloodshot eyes. He had never seen it fail before.

  As soon as Agaprei exited the other side, the standing stones awoke once more, eliciting grunts of skin flint approval from those in line.

  She made her way to the central rib, where an intricate winding staircase had been carved directly into the marrow. She took three steps, then slipped hard.

  “
Crap!”

  She came crashing down, sliding and tumbling to the bottom in an embarrassing wreck of limbs and lavender hair. With a groan, she lifted her head, and found the steps sullied by goat droppings, some lazy farmer having brought his herd to market up through this rib to avoid making the journey south to the pelvis.

  “Ah…so it was crap.”

  Picking herself up, she began again, climbing the thousands of stairs, her ears popping as she made the journey skywards. At one point, she paused to have a little snack, the chill wind whistling as it moved through the fissures in the bone. She watched as a light rain of trash came from the city above. Bits of paper, discarded food, old garments and wrappers, and occasionally, the contents of a spittoon or bedpan. In the sky beyond, the shattered halls of the heavens peeked out amid the clouds. Agaprei folded up the wrapper from her sandwich and put it in her pocket, taking a moment to stare at the broken remains of the heavens. peeking out from behind the clouds. When she had first started her training, she could barely make ten flights without having to stop. Now, she pushed herself all the way to the top, her heart pounding in her chest; her body obeying without complaint as she ascended up through the clouds to the city above.

  The sunlight cracked over her as she reached the edge of the sternum, and she wiped her brow in winded satisfaction. The city was a bustle of activity. The satisfying soprano ring of a hundred hammers, like a choir of metal came forth as scores of craftsmen took slices of collar bone to carve them into raiding ships. The clear bass thrum of anvils created a drumbeat as bone splinters were fashioned into arrows and spears. The screeching alto of dragons biting their reins and struggling against the commands of their trainers, and through it all, the howlers at every street corner, playing their instruments and relaying messages from the gods.

  This was the song of the city, a rustic song of defiance, a song of deep power, a song of war. The howlers strummed their lyres and sang out, many of the workers adding their low voices to the chorus.

  Keen the knives, scout the shores,

  Nock the bows and smoke the boars,

  Don the armor, load the sling,

  Erotan, your death we bring.