“I-I don’t care. I need to talk to him, too. It’s a delicate matter involving Fovos, my Master, and it cannot wait for your…trifles.”
Erolina folded her arms. “Well, unlike you two, I feel no need to declare my intentions in private. My clan requires the seed of powerful champions to enrich our bloodlines, and it is my duty to obtain it.”
Agaprei backed away. “You can’t do that.”
“Are you saying you have the strength to claim him?”
“What? Claim him?”
“Like all things, he belongs to whomever has the strength to retain him.”
“Are you challenging me to a duel?!”
“Of course, we’re civilized beastmen, not savages.”
“Wait, what are you two talking about?” Storgen yelled.
Erolina put her finger on his lips. “Shush, this doesn’t concern you.”
“What do you mean, it doesn’t concern me? I am not chattel to be bartered for!”
“Former champion or not, your behavior is unacceptable,” Agaprei countered. “You can’t just force him into something he doesn’t want to do.”
“So, you accept my challenge, then?”
“No.”
“Then you admit defeat?”
“NO.”
Now it was Erolina’s turn to get upset. “You have always stood as an obstacle in my path, even before he knew you, and you expect me to allow you to remain an obstacle and do nothing?”
Philiastra yanked even harder on Storgen’s arm. “You two muscleheads go fight it out, I’m taking Storgen with me.”
Erolina grabbed Storgen’s other arm. “He’s not going anywhere.”
Agaprei grabbed Erolina’s arm and Philiastra’s arm. “Both of you, let him go. It should be his choice.”
All three girls growled at one another, the air sparking with magical energies between them.
Storgen turned back towards Cornett. “Please, help me.”
The deity looked the three girls over. “You’re on your own, pal,” he said, and closed the door.
* * *
Reinala stood triumphantly at the base of the pearl balcony, watching as her mighty army stood at full muster, filling the valley like an artificial field of glimmering spear tips and flapping fell banners. Chariots of every size and description. From battalions of smaller, dark-scythed chariots, their cursed metal blades sizzling with acidic venom, all the way to great wane constructs as large as buildings, scaly-tusked beasts burdened to pull their toothed rollers, churning up the plains as they trundled forward.
Flocks of dragon riders from the west swooped through the skies, leaving black trails of smoke and fire, their charred armor clinking and clanking as they beat their powerful wings.
Hordes of brave warriors from the north clad in heavy furs, wielding fearsome axes, their men and women shouting their war songs in their harsh tongue. The moved like swarms of insects, skittering around the feet of enormous, scaly beasts from the jungles of the south, mighty metal towers on their backs, bristling with skilled archers.
Stomping herds of tall half-trolls, their black skin painted with hateful war paint, their tall wooden shields dyed red with blood, their white eyes glowing as they bayed in anticipation.
The Godmother held up her hands, her raiment shifting to crimson robes. “To Erotan, to victory, to justice, to glory!”
Her army roared back as one, spilling out of the valley and into the plains beyond.
* * *
Agaprei felt particularly anxious as she sat in her chair at the opulent restaurant. Philiastra and Erolina were practically throwing daggers at her with their eyes from across the chic marble table.
Storgen cleared his throat. “Hey, thanks for springing for such a fancy restaurant, Phili.”
Philiastra kept her harsh gaze firmly set on Agaprei. “It was the only way I could keep an eye on you. Besides, I threw away the money I got for crystal tuning on Kólasi. It wasn’t that big a deal to go dig it up and have it ported here.”
“How did she travel halfway across the scarlet ocean and back in just a few minutes?” Agaprei wondered.
Erolina and Storgen shrugged.
The Magalýteros came over, looking down on them from his prominent nose. “Excuse me…Miss Thavma, but we have a strict dress policy here, and I’m afraid you are underdressed.”
It took a moment for Philiastra to realize he was talking about her. “What, me?”
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to put on some clothes or I shall have no other choice than to ask for all of you to leave. You are disturbing our other patrons.”
They all became aware of the fog of disapproving eyes that surrounded the stylish dining hall.
“I do not respond to my slave name,” Philiastra insisted. “Nor will I wear slave clothes. I am Philiastra of the Fílos, and the forest does not bend to the will of humans.”
“Can we sit over there?” Storgen suggested, pointing to a private room. Then no one would have to see us.”
“I’m sorry, we only let our most beautiful guests sit over there.”
“But, you didn’t offer us those seats,” Erolina pointed out.
“Exactly.”
Erolina chuckled. “Oh, I am gonna burn this place to the ground.”
“I’m afraid I don’t respond well to threats, miss.”
“Really? Because when four diplomats come to rate your establishment, I would think casting them out would be devastating to your reputation.”
He lifted up a tight eyebrow. “Diplomats?”
Erolina motioned around the table. “Agaprei Sonata, The Knives of Fovos, Philiastra, emissary of the Forest Realm, Storgen, special guest of Cornett himself, and The Silver Reaper, daughter of Erotas, Queen of the Amazons.”
Agaprei’s eyes went wide. “Wait, if you’re her daughter, then that means you were the one who…”
“You’re a princess?” Storgen blurted out.
“Silence. We had come here to sample your wares, and bring back word of your establishment to our people, but since you are unwilling to accommodate our cultures, I suppose we’ll have no choice than to report to Reinala herself that you cast beastmen out of your property.”
The Magalýteros began to sweat.
A few minutes later, they were all sitting in the private dining room, surrounded by a dazzling, multi-tiered display of complimentary foods and beverages.
“Well done, Erolina,” Storgen praised, enjoying the view of the bright tropical fish tank that stretched from floor to ceiling.
She picked up a wine glass and sampled the bouquet. “We amazons specialize in bigger gun diplomacy.”
“Thanks for doing that,” Philiastra said, wolfing down a turkey leg. “I haven’t eaten real food in weeks.”
“I suppose food made by humans isn’t considered slave food, then?”
Philiastra tried to hide her embarrassment as she slurped down a bite. “It’s not my fault I’ve developed a taste for it, my abusive upbringing left me damaged. So I will make sure none of my people suffer the same fate. I am going to rebuild my tribe, and raise them properly in the old ways.”
Storgen frowned. “What do you mean abuse? Your mom and dad are the nicest people I’ve ever met. And your grandfather…”
“Unless you want to find teeth in your stool for the next month, you will stop right there,” she hissed.
Storgen went silent. Something about the way she said it told him she was deadly serious.
“My only family is the forest,” Philiastra said sternly, tossing the bone onto the floor.
A buswoman came in and cleaned up the discarded detritus, clearly disgusted as she poured water into the waiting goblets.
“This is Kalá, our finest artesian water,” she explained. “With the compliments of our Magalýteros.”
Storgen took a sip. “It tastes a little funny.”
“That’s because it’s from our private mineral well.”
Storgen looked around and fo
und a window leading to the veranda out back. “You mean that old well back there?”
“That’s what artesian water means.”
Storgen looked at it in disappointment. “Really?”
The buswoman left the room as quickly as she could, leaving them alone.
“Wow, we actually found someone worse at customer service than you are, Erolina.”
Storgen laughed at his own joke, but no one else did. The tension between Agaprei and the other two girls was palpable as they ate.
Their waiter arrived and offered Philiastra a napkin. “Well, I see that you are enjoying your appetizers.”
Philiastra stared at it, until she noticed her reflection and realized she had sauce all over her face.
“Ah, why didn’t anyone say anything?”
“Because we like our teeth where they are.”
While Philiastra wiped off her face, the waiter set out some fancy menus written in the local language.
“I’d be happy to make any recommendations.”
Storgen turned his menu upside down, but that didn’t make it any easier to read, so he just pointed at a random item. “How about this?”
“The moscharísio patáta with streídi sauce?”
“No even gonna try and pronounce that, but yeah.”
“I’m afraid I cannot help you.”
“It’s always nice to talk to someone who’s good at their job.”
Agaprei let out a little laugh, but the attention it drew stifled it back down.
“I haven’t tried it,” the waiter explained. “I’m a chortofágos, I don’t eat meat.”
“But, making recommendations is like, the only reason you are here.”
“That’s a very unenlightened viewpoint.”
“We don’t want to be unenlightened, now do we?” Agaprei added.
Not realizing she was being sarcastic, the waiter gave her a bow. “Thank you.”
“Oh, that’s all right. In the interest of full disclosure, I’m a customer, but I don’t use money.”
The waiter stared at her. “I beg your pardon?”
“Maybe you should say it again slower,” Storgen offered.
“Y-You can’t order from this menu and not use money,” the waiter stammered. “It’s absurd.”
Storgen pointed a finger at him. “Exactly, now go get us a meat-eater who can make some actual recommendations!”
The waiter walked away indignantly while Storgen and Agaprei tried to bottle their laughter.
“Boy, we’ve had really bad luck with servers today, haven’t we?” he opined.
“I give the hall four stars but the service only half a star,” she added.
Both Agaprei and Storgen busted up laughing.
Their laughter died down when they noticed Erolina and Philiastra glaring at them.
“Oh great, they both have the same stupid sense of humor.”
Philiastra gripped her fork so hard it bent in her hand. “So, is this what you were looking for all this time, Storge? A copy of yourself, except all tall and skinny and busty, and with ridiculously thick, bouncy, shiny, beautiful hair?”
“Hey!”
“She’s too young for him,” Erolina appraised. “She can’t be older than, what, seventeen?”
“Now see here…”
“And those ears,” Philiastra added.
“What’s wrong with my ears?”
“They’re a safety hazard. It’s only a matter of time before you poke Storgen in the eye with those things.”
Agaprei grabbed her ears indignantly. “How dare you!”
Erolina and Philiastra looked at one another and nodded. “Yes, she’s definitely wrong for him.”
Storgen slammed his goblet on the table, startling all three of them.
“Hey, this is a birthday party, what’s more, it’s a birthday party for someone I care about. If you two can’t treat her with respect, then you can leave.”
Philiastra and Erolina sat back and folded their arms, mumbling half-hearted apologies.
“The truth is I don’t care what people look like,” Storgen continued. “Pink, green, brown, none of that matters, we all poop the same color.”
All the girls looked at him in disgust.
“You’re quite the poet, aren’t you?”
“Did you really have to phrase it that way?”
“You’re starting to sound like Pops.”
“You gals know what I mean. “Forest Nymph blood is green, Amazon blood is red, Siren blood is white, but that’s not what matters. What matters is we all bleed. We all feel joy, and we all feel sorrow. We all share the same human heart.”
“Human heart,” Philiastra sniffed. “If only you could know how insulting that sounds.”
Storgen dropped his head. “Ugh. Fine, then we’re all children of the fates, then, can we agree on that?”
The girls gave him begrudging agreement.
“…And the fates created each individual with a purpose, a reason for existing. That’s why they say that the two greatest days of your life are the day you are born, and the day you find out why.”
Storgen looked at Agaprei tenderly. “When I saw her, I didn’t care what she looked like. Every cell in my body just resonated, and I knew this was my match.”
“You can’t just say that,” Agaprei countered.
“Right,” Philiastra agreed. “Even if you do feel that way, you’re supposed to be humble about it. You’re supposed to say, ‘I got lucky,’ or something like that. You just don’t go right out and say it.”
“Why?”
“Because people will like you more when you do.”
“Do people like me?”
“No, I’d say most people hate you,” Erolina teased.
“So, what you’re saying is that not being humble won’t change a thing.”
“It changes everything,” Agaprei insisted. “If you tell them that, it makes them feel like they have no choice. If you had kept it to yourself, then maybe she’d have had the chance to find out for herself, instead of just making her feel like she’s being placed in another blasted arranged marriage.”
Storgen’s eyes widened with realization. “Oh.”
Erolina cooed. “I wouldn’t mind if he said something like that to me.”
“You wouldn’t?”
She rested her chin on her fingers. “It’s one of the things I like about him. He’s the kind of man who doesn’t ask many questions, but acts without hesitation. He is guided by his own mind, and breaks the bonds of reality with his will. He achieves the impossible because he believes he can. What other kind of man could slay a demi-god?”
Agaprei looked at Storgen in shock. “That was YOU?”
“Two more battles to the death and I get a free sandwich.”
“I wouldn’t take anything she says seriously,” Philiastra warned. “She’s an amazon, their greatest export is hypocrisy.”
“If you want a rematch, step right outside, little cucumber.”
“You’d better not tempt me, I just might. I’m not the confused little girl you knew before. I’m a warrior, and with the power of the forest behind me, it would be an Olympic level match.”
Erolina yawned. “Is that supposed to be intimidating? Olympic games are boring. Without real combat, it’s just watching grass grow with people in the way.”
“Is that another plant joke?”
“I would never joke about something so serious.”
To emphasize her point, Erolina picked up a carrot stick and snapped it in half with her teeth.
Philiastra’s eyes began to glow with blue fire. “Put. That. Down.”
“Make me.”
“If you fight, I’ll kick you both out,” Storgen warned.
They reluctantly backed down.
Agaprei leaned in. “Are they always like this?”
“You have no idea.”
A kindly old man came up with his plump wife at his side.
“Good evening, my name is
Placidus. I’m the owner, and this is my wife. I’m sorry about the way our son treated you. I’m afraid he takes his job of Magalýteros a bit too seriously.”
Erolina angrily slurped down an oyster, while Philiastra munched grumpily on a corn cob.
Storgen waved his hand. “It’s all right, this is a very even-tempered group of people who never overreact to anything.”
“It warms my heart to hear that. What can I get you?”
“Moró steaks all around,” Storgen requested. “With no veggies on the side.”
“Very nice.”
The wooden roof began to pitter patter, and outside thick sheets of rain began to fall, obscuring the view of the falls beyond.
Agaprei frowned. “Now we can’t see the falls.”
Placidus cackled. “In my day, when we needed the weather to clear up, we’d sacrifice a virgin or two.”
His wife slapped his back. “Honey!”
“What? It worked, didn’t it?”
Erolina swirled a spoonful of pudding. “You could always sacrifice Storgen, here. He’s saving himself for marriage.”
Philiastra blushed green. “Scythe!”
Agaprei blushed red. “Y-you can’t just say things like that out loud.”
She took a bite and licked her lips lusciously. “Oh, look at you two, blushing like little kids. You try to act all mature, but you’re really just children.”
“It’s not that,” Agaprei argued. “It’s just that, with so many girlfriends, I just assumed that he’d…”
Storgen leaned back in his chair. “I’m a virgin. There’s no shame in it.”
“Is this really appropriate dinner conversation?” Philiastra argued.
“Careful, your war paint is smearing,” Erolina teased.
Philiastra looked at her reflection in the mirror. “Ahh! Why didn’t anyone tell me?!”
Agaprei’s face burned even brighter as she tapped her fingertips together. “You shouldn’t be mean to him. I think it’s kind of nice that a guy would wait…”
Now, it was Storgen’s turn to blush.
Agaprei realized what she had said and lost it. “I-I mean, not that I care, why would I care? I don’t care, it’s none of my business, it’s none of yours either, it’s no one’s business. I mean, I don’t even like Storgen, even if he asked me, I’d never date him again in a million years…”
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