by Kenna Bardot
"Yes, Willa. You are on the precipice of that greatness just as your classmates here are on that same precipice." She gave me a nod before looking off into space. "I remember when I was just in your position. A Sylfe on the edge of being ready. Ready to attract Gods to become worthy of a Sire. But that's not what we're here to talk about." She tugged on the sleeve of her jacket and showed the silver tattoo that shone there - a sign of her Sire Bond.
"For some of us, being a human is a distinct memory of a time that we did everything in our powers to be the best. To serve and honour in a way that we hope to be noticed. But, now that you are Sylfes, remember that there is a distinction. Sylfes are winners, survivors. Thus, you deserve a certain level of respect."
I scoffed, but as silently as I could imagine. I'd heard the stories of Sylfes talking of Gods who referred to Sylfeshire as a whorehouse. Even before Hollis had taken me as an attendant and before he and his friends had become so much more to me than just a group of evil tormentors, Sylfeshire’s reputation was already clear. Edlynne Nastroj might have once been a human then, after a Sylfe, but a long enough time had passed that she had forgotten about what the entire purpose of Sylfeshire really was.
For Gods to get free men and women in bed. Men and women who wanted to be Gods themselves. And sometimes, being that open paid off. But, in others, it only meant prolonging the inevitable - that descent into the Unwanted.
"Madame Edlynne?" Theo, the male Sylfe I’d met earlier that day inside the Viewing room, raised his hand. "What is the typical time that a Sylfe waits before a God declares for them after being proclaimed Ready?"
"It all depends. Generally, if a Sylfe who is Ready has not been declared for after about a decade, then the likelihood of being declared for becomes rather slim." She tapped a finger against her pursed lips. "Let's take as an example, our newly-Ascended. She was previously Lahra Sylfe and is now Lahra Tempestas. She was a Sylfe for about eight years before she Mingled. She was declared Ready when intentions were made towards her and within a year of this time she received formal Declarations. However, she did not Ascend until her second go at the Sire Trials with the same God who wanted to Sire her. This journey is fairly typical.” She turned towards Theo. “Does that answer your question then?”
He nodded, almond-shaped eyes sparkling in speculation. "Yes, it does, Madame Edlynne. Thank you."
"I am pleased to help you out. To help all of you out. Remember that I know how you feel. At some point, I too had pink hair and pink-tinged eyes. I sat where you sit, heart pounding and worried that I would never Ascend. That I would have no one declare for me. No, not even that. That I would never be Ready. But you remember that as long as you are genuine and show a willingness to become a companion to the God who wants, you will get someone who will declare for you. That is, of course, if you don't already have one waiting for you. For some Sylfes, the Descendant they served in Godsvail becomes the one who eventually Declare for them and then they have to undergo the Trials together.”
She paused, and no one spoke. She pushed off of the desk where she had been leaning and took a step closer to us. "Does anyone else have questions?"
Gennifer, another one of my classmates, a short, curvy girl with a big bright smile, put up a hand. "When do we know that we will be Ready, Madame Edlynne?"
She shot us a cryptic smile and gave a small wave of the hand. "All in due time, my dear. All in due time."
I rolled my eyes, but this time, I wasn't as discreet as I intended.
"Yes, Mireyah? As it is your first time in this class, if you have questions, please don’t hesitate to ask me," our teacher spoke up, and I shot her a sheepish smile. "Nothing, Madame Edlynne."
She slung a silver eyebrow up at me. "Are you sure?"
I shrugged. "Well." I looked around the room and was met with curious stares. It was a new set of Sylfes, but they were familiar and like most of the other Sylfes in Sylfeshire, they didn’t judge me harshly. Given that, though, they weren't my friends. I know that they thought my lack of excitement for Ascension meant that I was peculiar. In much the same way that I thought they were desperate.
Desperate to triumph and escape their Sylfe lives. At any cost.
"Well, Madame Edlynne," I trailed off and took a sharp intake of breath. "What happens when a Sylfe decides that they don't want to be Ready?"
She nodded and shot me a knowing smile. "Of course, that has happened. I'm afraid we don't listen to words but listen to the heart. It's so much more reliable, don't you think?"
And for once, my big mouth had nothing to say to that.
✽✽✽
Having to go to another class was about the worst thing that could happen to me. Not only did I have to listen to someone else's lectures about things I didn’t really particularly care about, that meant that I let my thoughts run wild.
And run wild it did. My mind stuck on Shep, Char, and Hollis. That moment we’d shared blurred in my mind, and I saw things and felt things I wasn’t certain were real.
All I knew that was real was the fact that they were in my head and in my heart, and I couldn’t let go of it. I hated it. Hated myself because I couldn't seem to break free. I knew the reality, knew that humans still suffered starvation in the North, that they still suffered for being forced to serve the Descendants and the Gods themselves. Instead of doing my part, I sat there conflicted over my feelings for the males who had once taken what I didn't offer.
It should have been a straight-forward decision. An opportunity for me to be free of them and find someone who might help me further my cause with better living conditions for humans.
Someone like Lathyn Majele.
But I couldn't bring myself to even consider it. That I might not end up with my men was agonizing, that an entire year of fighting and suffering might have been for nothing.
The unfortunate reality for everyone around me was that my self-hatred translated to just downright bitchiness. Theo, who had been nice enough to join me at the table at the start of the class, appeared to have clued in and now sat as far away from me at our table as he could manage. Colm didn't miss it. He missed nothing that happened with his Sylfes, but he ignored it in favor of continuing on with his lesson.
"As you prepare to make your debuts, we should discuss the fact that seduction begins before you ever lay hands on one another. A coy glance, a smile, eye contact. All these things can begin while the glass separates you. Does anyone have a specific God in mind for their Sire?" he asked, glancing around the group of the five of us.
Theo chuckled. "I think Mireyah has a few in mind." He grunted when I elbowed him in the side, glaring at Colm as if I might do the same to him if he dared to mention them.
One of my classmates raised her hand and Colm gestured to her. “Yes, Gennifer?”
Gennifer shot me a shy smile as she continued, "I would like to pursue Lathyn Majele." Her admission echoed in the room, and I felt the weight of everyone's stares as they looked at me for a reaction. Evidently, Lysandra hadn't been the only one to notice the pointed way he watched me.
"He's never looked twice at you," Willa giggled, and Gatlin snorted from his seat next to her.
"He would make a good match. Only a fool would ignore the potential he presents," she whispered, and Theo stilled at my side.
"I'm a fool now?" I hissed, leaning back in my chair to stare her down. I wanted nothing more than to lay into her, to warn her that his fixation showed no signs of slowing and wasn't welcome. That he'd been the catalyst to strip me away from everything I'd known, and everything I'd ever dreamed to have for myself.
"I didn't mean it like that," she whispered back, horror apparent on her face.
"This presents a very good opportunity, Mireyah. It would appear that your classmates have noticed the fondness Lathyn reserves for you. Why don't you explain how you came to be held in such a high regard by one of the most respected Gods?" I glanced up to where he sprawled in his chair behind the desk, like a King on his throne. An
d he was, for all purposes. Sylfeshire was his kingdom, and there were very few who he had to answer to when it came to the decisions he made.
I dismissed him casually. "I knew him before Sylfeshire. You know that."
He nodded his head to the others in the room, the ones I hadn't discussed my history with, listening intently. "How?"
"He Collected me and then oversaw my Challenges. He wants a wife who is strong enough to be his equal. He sees that in me." Gennifer's gaze met mine, feeling weighty as my words sank in with her. She wasn't strong enough to stand beside him and not be drowned by his presence, and even she knew it.
"What makes you think this?" Colm pressed, and I hated him for pushing the issue. Gennifer was already on the verge of being humiliated, and I hated that for anyone.
"He told me frequently that he intends to be my Sire."
"Why?" Willa asked, tilting her head to study me more thoroughly than the bubbly girl seemed capable of. "You aren't exactly the most agreeable Sylfe. You're too busy with your face in your books to even notice him staring at you half the time."
"I challenge him, stand up to him. I don't worship at his feet, or do what he tells me to do. If he walked into this room and told you to strip, what would you do?"
Willa pursed her lips briefly before grinning. "I'd strip, of course. Have you looked at him? He looks like fun."
"I told him no. Even as a human, I denied him - a God."
Colm laughed at the front of the room, turning his entertained red eyes my way. They went hazy in a way that was so similar to Hollis' when he seduced me and the similarity almost brought me to my knees. A finger tapped at his plump bottom lip as if he was in thought. But I knew very well what the purpose of it was. He seduced Gennifer and Willa without so much as glancing at them, but I refused to succumb to that too-familiar Svadeni appeal.
His vision cleared with a shake of his head and a chuckle. "Oh my dear, stubborn, Mireyah. Never change who you are. You likely must compromise to become a Goddess, but the root of who you are would be a great tragedy to be lost to the ways of the Sylfes."
"Shouldn't you be teaching me to be everything that a Sylfe is meant to be? Respectful, polite, charming, sweet?" I tossed back even as I flipped my hair behind me.
"We've got enough of that, I think. It would appear that not all Gods want a meek woman in their bed."
"I suppose not," Gennifer sighed. I ignored the pang of guilt I felt, because the poor girl hadn't deserved to have her hopes dashed so publicly. But at least she'd be able to move forward with someone who might invest the time and energy she deserved into her.
"Never settle." I told her. "If you don't see your own worth, how can you expect them to?"
Chapter 4
Mireyah
Astraea stared at us like we'd lost our damn minds, giggling over the bottle of snakeberry liquor as we perched on the edge of the fountain. I didn’t even know where Lysandra had found the liquor since I’d always thought Sylfeshire didn’t have any alcohol.
As I took another swig, I couldn’t help but be thankful for the sneaky bitch.
"We shouldn't be out here!" Aes hissed. "We’ll be in trouble if we get caught in the Visitation area, much less with alcohol. Sylfes don’t drink alcohol."
"Relax Aes," I giggled. "It's after visitation hours. And alcohol is fine, they’ll never know. Everyone is goneeee," I slurred, tipping sideways so hard that I knocked into Lysandra and she almost fell into the fountain.
"Bitch, you almost got me wet." She stretched out an arm to shove me, but missed entirely. I couldn't blame her, since there were three of her floating around next to me.
"At least your dress can't get much more sheer than it already is." Even Astraea laughed at that, knowing just how much Lysandra hated the fashions of Sylfeshire. Dresses were fine, well and good. But sheer dresses pushed her too far out of her comfort zone, even though she'd been wearing them for more years than any member of my immediate family had been alive.
"Both of you are lushes. But since you are drunk, I’m taking advantage of it. Tell me why you’re in Sylfeshire.” Astraea demanded. "You hate it here. Why did you survive the Challenges? You're spiteful enough to die to avoid it."
Lysandra straightened, her body going perfectly still as she stared up our friend’s curious face. I really couldn’t blame Astraea for her question though, since I too was very curious. I’d expected to arrive at Sylfeshire and meet a building full of Annalees, so Lysandra had been refreshing.
I took the bottle back from Lysandra's hand after she took a more than healthy swig. I was determined that she would not drink all the snakeberry even when she’d been the one to acquire it.
She expelled a breath. "Fine. I can see that this question has been on your mind for ages. I survived because I wanted to spite them. They were all so sure I'd die, since I was pathetic enough to still be in love with a human back home when I'd been Collected years ago. If I hadn't wanted to prove them all wrong, I probably would have just died. It would have been better than coming to this miserable place," she groaned, suddenly sounding too sober. Sad for her, I thrust the bottle at her again.
"They aren't all bad," Astraea stressed. "You could find a nice God and give him a chance, you know?"
"I still have time," Lysandra dismissed, turning an evil glint my way. "Besides, I'd much rather talk about the one who is sure to join the ranks of us tortured ones who have to speak to the Gods."
"You mean me. Don't remind me," I groaned. I stood and swayed, suddenly wanting to escape back to my room.
"Come on," Lysandra teased. "Promise me I'll get a front-row seat to the drama when you first talk to them."
"Talk to who?" I tried to play dumb, but I should have known Lysandra better than to think she would somehow respect the boundary I wanted to set. Especially not after I’d been complicit in Astraea’s curiosity regarding her own life.
"Any of them! Lathyn or the ones you don't want to talk about." She laughed and pointed at my face. "You loved them."
"I did," I agreed with a sigh. "I do," I corrected. "I think."
"You think?" Astraea gave me a wide-eyed stare, and I stood on the ledge of the fountain in favor of doing my best to balance and walk along it slowly in a massive circle. My bare toes dipped into the pool of water, enjoying the refreshing crispness that sent a chill up my legs.
"It's hard to love someone you haven't seen in five years. I'm not the same person I was when I knew them. I've spent five years in luxury, with every need met. The best foods, satin sheets on my bed." I lifted the skirt of my chiffon dress pointedly. "What if they're entirely different people too?"
"Would that be an entirely bad thing?" Lysandra asked, grabbing my hand in hers as I went to step over her. With a tug, she pulled me back to sit next to her. "From what you said when you came here, they were horrible when you met. You changed them for the better. If they're worthy of you, they'll have continued to change in your absence. Five years may have passed, but they still have a lot to make up for. You're more forgiving than I am. I would have never forgiven them for what they did to you."
I nodded, because if it had been anyone else but them, I'd have castrated them in their sleep happily. But something about them had called to me, made it impossible to walk away even when I should have. I wanted them, despite what they'd done. In fact, I had a feeling I always would.
That didn't mean they wouldn't have to work to earn me. It just meant that I was just as broken, just as fucked up, as they were.
"And what if they don't?" I asked her.
"Then you hope that Lathyn is kind enough to give you the political alliance marriage that will benefit humans in the way you want. If not, maybe we'll go to the Unwanted Lands together." She shrugged, just another hint that my friend may choose that fate for herself rather than bind herself to the very Gods she hated through a sire bond.
"It's a prison, Lysandra. Not a vacation," Astraea reprimanded, even as the worry lit in her eyes.
�
�And this isn't? Besides, I don’t see you cozying up to a God to get out of here and back to Demiorgo," my friend shot back. I nodded, knowing she was right. For people like us, Sylfeshire was just a luxurious cage.
But a cage, no less.
✽✽✽
Being a Sylfe, while a life of what felt like unspeakable luxury, wasn’t all that great. In fact, I downright hated it when the light felt like it was spearing right into my eye and made the little drummers in my head beat out a steady thumping beat the entire time. In fact, days later, at the head of another Viewing session, I was still mostly hungover.
Colm stood just outside the room that led down the path towards the viewing room. Since I didn’t think it was a special day, I cursed to myself inwardly, especially since his gaze was knowing as he raked his eyes over my face.
The face I knew didn't reflect how battered my head felt, how my stomach still twisted with the threat of nausea inside of me. One of the other girls had been kind enough to inform the three of us, after the fact, that Sylfe bodies were slower to process toxins, despite our longevity. How Lysandra and Astraea hadn’t known that still blew my mind. But it just showed how much they cared about being Sylfes.
Which was not a lot.
However, it made sense that our bodies would react in this way given that Sylfes were meant to be pinnacles of health, eating the finest fruits and living lives of pampering that only enhanced the unnatural beauty the change gave us.
Alcohol wasn't good for us, and our bodies were unfamiliar with it since it was forbidden.
He snatched the book out of my hands, tucking it under his arm and giving it a pat to say he'd keep it safe for me. "Do try to pretend you're interested today, my dear."