by Kenna Bardot
"I'm not capable of pretending such a thing. I want nothing to do with any of them," I lied.
Quick as could be, his hand shot out and grasped my chin firmly until I was forced to meet his firm stare. "You fought to be here. Suffered to get here. Do not waste the opportunity you've been given out of spite or foolishness. Those who go to the Land of the Unwanted never see the light of day again, Mireyah. It is not a life you should choose for yourself. Especially not when you have the attention of a God most would kill to have as their Sire."
"How am I supposed to look at him? He took me from my home and set me on the path that brought me here," I argued, twisting my head until Colm released my chin.
"He was not alone in his decision. He did not single-handedly tear you from your loved ones. And he certainly didn’t do it out of spite. He merely did his job as our spokesperson and found someone with the potential to be a strong, desirable Goddess. Given your quick Ascension to Sylfe, I would say he did his job rather spectacularly. I'm not asking you to be something you're not, Mireyah. I don't expect you to make goo-goo eyes at them or even pretend to be the least bit seductive." He raised an eyebrow even as his red eyes glowed, showing that he was attempting to use his power on me. Albeit mildly.
Given my experience with Hollis, I was actually able to easily resist it as I barked a laugh, because somehow although I had interest from the Gods, I definitely did not know how to seduce men. Unless seduction involved glares and ignoring.
That I had down.
He smiled as he went back to normal. "Just look at them. Let them see you. Be open to the potential of what you may find here. That's all I ask."
"That's a big ask," I hissed back.
"I only want what's best for you. It's my job to see each of you through this transition, but I can't do that if you don't listen." He gave me one more pointed look before turning and walking out toward the Visitation area. A glance out the window revealed Sylfes intermingling with the Gods, a colorful array of vivid hair colors as they moved about the space. I knew even more of them would be out enjoying the pools in the warm sun, others in the surrounding private rooms enjoying their company.
I sighed and nodded to the guard at the entrance to the viewing area. “Mireyah,” I said on a sigh before he gestured me in with a wave of his hand.
“Hi,” I mumbled as I took my seat in the lounge next to Theo. And instead of twisting my body to give the viewers barely a glance of my profile as I usually did, I kept myself straight so they could see more of my face. Theo's hand touched my thigh tentatively, barely a brush that felt comforting rather than sexual.
"It's okay," he whispered. I bit my lip to fight my argument, feeling like a traitor to everything I'd known, everything I believed as I sat there and let the Gods look me over. "Sometimes strength requires compromise instead of stubbornness," he added, his moment of wisdom reminding me he'd been a Sylfe for years before I'd even arrived at Godsvail.
With the way he had asked Madame Edlynne a question, it was obvious he was thinking of timelines since he still hadn’t been declared as Ready for a long time. He seemed dedicated to serving, dedicated to finding his Sire. However, until I went through it myself, I had no way of knowing how Caprice ensured we were ready to Mingle.
Only the Core Gods knew what they looked for when they reflected on us.
So we sat there, murmuring quietly to one another. Theo's eyes rarely came to mine, and I occasionally allowed mine to dart up to glance at the Gods as they watched through the glass. They changed each time, no one lingering too long at the window. No one was overly interested, not when they had a buffet of willing Sylfes to devour outside.
"How do you stand it?" I asked him, and his smiling eyes glanced over to me.
"It's nice to be appreciated," he sighed out with such honesty I couldn’t even hate him for it. "They're beautiful. Knowing that they want me is empowering," he answered. "Though if they were all as fixated as that one is, I don't think I'd be so pleased."
With interest, I tipped my face up to the glass, immediately connecting with black.
The soulless, sparkling eyes of Ashric Tovenaar.
Though his lips upturned naturally, the cruel shape of the grin that spread across his face when I met his gaze was nothing short of terrifying. He touched a hand to the glass, as if he expected I might reciprocate.
I didn't.
I knew shock must have twisted my features into something comical, and I felt the moment Theo went rigid beside me. Colm suddenly materialized behind Ashric, watching our exchange with rage on his normally impassive face. There was no way he could have known that the day he pushed me to look at them would be the first time Ashric visited my viewing. The timing was unfortunate, and the memory of his hand on the glass would haunt me even until I no longer had to sit in that dreaded room.
His lips formed two words, and though I couldn't hear them, there was no doubt to what they were. "Hello, Mireyah."
Theo took my hand in his, and for a moment I thought it was him trembling. Until I realized that the vibrations were my own, that I was so furious he dared to look at me like he had any right or claim on me. Ashric turned away, grabbing one of the other Sylfes who was too blind to see the monster that lurked inside of him. I turned my eyes away, not wanting to look, not wanting to see whether he took her somewhere or even who it was.
"Holy shit," Theo whispered, teal eyes wide as he stared at me.
I nodded, not able to find the words to respond. I suddenly missed my males more than ever, wanting the familiar comfort of their arms around me. But although it was a day I would have normally expected a few of them to come, they were nowhere to be found. Not a single one of them stood on the other side of the glass and stared at me.
The door opened behind us, and Colm stepped into the room. "Come on, Mireyah. Special dispensation," he murmured. "You're done for the day." I nodded, retreating down the pathway and past the guard as fast as I could. Colm didn't speak, didn't bother to stop me when I sucked back deep breaths of air.
"I’m sorry you had to go through that on a day when I’d just forced you to look out at the Gods. I have a specific amount of control over Sylfeshire, but they are free to come and go as they please.”
"I know," I agreed, and felt more sturdy as I forced oxygen into my lungs. "There was no way to know."
"I take it you have history?"
I nodded. "He wanted to break me. He hurt another girl who hurt me, but it wasn't-" I paused and took another deep breath before answering him, "It wasn't done out of protection or generosity. There's something wrong with him. Just naturally wrong. And somehow he’s focused his eyes on me."
"I hate to say it but Tovenaars are often a little-"
"No. He's different from the other Tovenaars I saw at Godsvail. Crueler. He beat her and called her my name, Colm."
He swallowed with a deep sigh of frustration. "I'll see what I can do to dissuade him. No one is allowed to harm any of my Sylfes." He walked off when the doors opened and several Sylfe women paraded into the space, gushing about the Gods they'd enjoyed in their interactions. A pair of male Sylfes passed them and threw them a look of disgust for gossiping, and I had to admit that I understood just what they were thinking.
"You looked like you were off to have the time of your life! Five Gods?" One of them whispered, and something in me stilled. It wasn't often that Gods shared like that. And the number.
Five.
"It was incredible. I've never felt so much pleasure. The things they did to me," she gushed with a hand pressed to her chest. When her eyes met mine, she seemed to still, as if she hadn't been expecting me to overhear their conversation. She bit her lip, suddenly sobering. "I'm sorry, Mireyah. I know you had a thing with them in the past, but I just-"
"What did you just say?" I asked, caring more than I should have.
"Those five who watch you. Sometimes two or three at once, but not usually alone? Some newly Ascended ones."
I shook my hea
d at her, a disbelieving smile on my face. "I don't believe you. They told me to wait for them." I turned with another shake of my head, ready to get away from her lies, but her next words made me freeze in place.
"The twins took me together. They called it a twin sandwich," she whispered, and everything in me flinched and then froze solid. I didn't look back as I walked off to my room. I didn't want to believe it. Couldn't believe it.
There was no way they would do that to me, not when we were so close to being able to speak.
But they'd never missed a Viewing for more than a week before, never all of them at once, especially now that I was there for longer.
I changed out of my gown on autopilot and put my flimsy nightgown on before dropping onto my bed, feeling cold numbness seep into my bones despite the surrounding warmth.
If it was true, I couldn't forgive that.
Chapter 5
Mireyah
I couldn’t focus. My thoughts were too jumbled inside my head, too sporadic and tormented with the rage that flooded my very being. To wait for them for five years, to never even consider the thought of taking another male inside me, only to be presented with information that seemed to prove they’d been with someone else? In the same building where I lived, no less?
It was torture, and I wanted nothing more than to slap myself. What had I expected from the men who hadn’t taken what I wanted into consideration in the past? I’d forgiven the ultimate trespass once, so why should they think I wouldn’t tolerate infidelity during a five-year separation?
"Lest you forget, you all have a duty. Not just to Demiorgo, nor to just yourselves, but to the entirety of Godsfell. Do we remember who made things the way they are now and why?" Our instructor, Fintan Leven, paced back and forth across the front of the room, an action that had my head following as he did.
I was already a little too distracted by all that happened in the past few days that simply attending a class felt like a challenge to me. I was legitimately dizzy and expelled a breath when he called my name. "Mireyah? Who made our world this way, and why?"
I could only be thankful of all the books I'd read that could help me answer. “Yes, Sir Fintan. Zeevar and Rhiannon decided one day that the world they watched over was corrupted beyond imagining. With that, they made their own using all their energy. Their vision was an ideal world that they could look over and watch more closely than the one they saw destroy itself. But at first the world was empty and barren for a century as they rested. Afterwards, Mother Rhiannon created Anselm and Zeevar, Caprice. And together they are known as the Core Gods."
"That's correct." He nodded and gave me a smile. "Our father and our mother, Zeevar and Rhiannon did this for us because he wanted to make a world for Gods but also to ensure that their humans did not destroy themselves or the world they inhabited. For all we might think differently, they loved humans."
I scoffed, not bothering to keep it discreet because if there was something I did not believe, it was that any God wanted what was best for the humans they allowed so much to suffer.
"Yes, Mireyah?" Calm, as he always was, Fintan smiled at me. On his arm, I could see the mark that his Sire had given him, a sign that showed that he’d been human once, just as I had been. My classmates turned towards me with varying levels of disgust and shock on their faces. I ignored them.
"I feel as though it is a whitewashed version of what must be the truth. Having been a human myself, it feels difficult to believe that they truly did or still care." I stared him down, that soft face that had long since abandoned any hardship. He'd once been a Sylfe, once been a human. I would not allow him to force a version of the truth on us that was incorrect.
"Perhaps true, Mireyah. But no world is perfect and no one, not even Core Gods, are, for all that they are, mighty and powerful. Now, can anyone tell me why Sylfes and eventually Sylfeshire were created?"
Willa raised her hand even as her gaze never left my face. I pretended not to notice. She only turned her head to the front when our teacher addressed her, "Yes, Willa? I believe you have an answer."
She whipped her head forward, a big cloud of pink hair snapping around her face. "Yes, Sir Fintan. Sylfes were made because the Gods, while technically immortal, have weakness and vulnerabilities. After generations of what could only be called inbreeding, it became clear that they needed to find a way to breed out inconsistencies and weaknesses that could be otherwise avoided."
"That is correct. So that's something to remember. As Sylfes, you become Gods for one very explicit reason. To inject fresh blood into the lives of Gods." Fintan Leven turned around, combing a hand through the dark green hair that barely brushed the top of broad shoulders. "We create Life. Because Life is important. Our house, made by Mother Rhiannon, preaches this. We value Life and the beauty and sadness that could be bred from it. When or if you become Gods, it is important for you to remember this."
I blew out a breath, allowing my hair to fly around my face a bit. Duty. Everything was a duty. And, sometimes, I was tempted to believe that it was the same for them. For the Gods.
But I couldn't. Because the truth of the matter was that I hated them. Especially when they made me feel and expect one thing and then I could have been wrong. Could have been expecting something that would never come to be.
And if or when I became one of them, I would want to not be hated in much the same way.
I would do all I could to just be me. Because I understood me.
Mireyah. The Mireyah that I had chosen to be on that first day I'd stepped into Sylfeshire.
✽✽✽
The sun was setting as I walked down the hallway at the end of a very long day of Viewing in the morning and classes for the rest of the day. I rubbed a hand at the back of my neck, feeling the stress and fatigue creep up my body and wrap around it like an unwanted guest. While I did not look back at my days as a human attendant back in Godsvail with any fondness, there were aspects to being a Sylfe in Sylfeshire that were no less horrible.
Being pampered and lavished in various luxuries did not mean the entire thing was any more palatable. Being an attendant in Godsvail had been torturous because the Descendants had been cruel, but being a Sylfe in Sylfeshire was torturous for having to be a student for classes that never interested me.
The rest of my classmates walked out ahead of me and ignored me, and I was particularly satisfied to not be friends with them. Given that our values or goals did not align, I was not at all interested to be friendly. Besides Theo, they ignored me, and I afforded them the same respect.
Except for that Sylfe who had taken the Five, no one had ever talked to me about my life besides Lysandra and Astraea, and occasionally, Theo. But I doubted that what she had done was because of me, but more because of the Five. I could not deny how wonderful they could be. And I could not blame her for allowing herself into that place. If it were true.
And I couldn’t even blame her for it because what she’d experience had to have been mind-blowing. Because I had been there. And if it had been me in her shoes, I would not have stopped and would not have wanted to do it differently.
"OH GODS!" a voice shrieked very near my ears. "You're Mireyah, right? They said you were Mireyah."
I'd been set to ignore the sound of the voice shrieking, but hearing it call my name had me turning around to stare. My mouth dropped open as the small, unfamiliar Sylfe ran towards me, with arms wide open like she had every intention of catching me into a hug. I took a large step back to avoid this from happening, regardless of what her intention was.
Out of the corner of my eyes I could see my classmates, who had been strolling leisurely down the hallway and chatting, stop and stand there quietly. Like they were watching the show. Which, as I stared at the tiny shrieking Sylfe in front of me making a spectacle of herself and by extension me, I had to admit that it was likely an entertaining sight.
"Mireyah?" I asked with a wince. "That's me. Was there something you needed?" I cursed my inner politen
ess for shining through. I really should have just asked her to fuck off. Just like Lysandra, who Astraea kept on saying was just like me.
"Oh no, nothing!" she shook her head vehemently and grabbed my wrists. I tried to subtly pull off but was surprised by the amount of strength such a small sprite of a girl actually had in her tiny body.
I nodded at her uncertainly. “Okay then.”
"Well..." she trailed off and eyed me curiously. "A few tips would not be unwelcome."
I gave up trying to pry my hands off as I gaped at her. "Sorry, tips?" I gave a small shake of the head to figure out what she could want but drew up blank. "Tips about what, exactly…." I stopped when I realized I did not understand who she was.
"Cyrille! I call myself Cyrille. I'm the newest Sylfe from Godsvail." My eyes widened at her statement. For the last few years, I had been the newest human-born Sylfe from Sylfeshire. It was rather nice to note that I was no longer the new girl. And rather surprising to see that it was a female again. Poor male humans, not making it to Sylfedom. Perhaps the next would be theirs.
"Hello, Cyrille. You should be very glad that I still call myself by my human name. Imagine how much vitriol you would have faced had you called me Mireyah, and I’d chosen to go by a different name." I raised an eyebrow at her, not because I was mad but because I wanted to make sure she was aware of how she had to act and behave now that she was a Sylfe. And I was glad to note that she had the good sense to look sheepishly up at me.
"Oops, sorry. I just got excited. But yes, tips! Because of your reputation in Godsvail. The way they talk about you and all that. I was very excited about possibly meeting you when I won the Challenge!”
Even as I wondered how she won the Challenge, there were other more important and shocking things to address because for the second time in the same conversation, I felt my mouth drop open. "A reputation?" Although, really, I should not have been surprised. While my survival had rested on the fact that I'd had to kill my competitors, they'd had friends and there had been Descendants and humans watching.