by Mark Eller
Larson did not resist. Instead, he allowed himself to be drawn in further, allowed her to take comfort in his love. I love you Anithia. But it is not your time. Forgive me. Our daughter still needs you.
Anithia shuddered when she felt him sucking away the energy surrounding her. “Larson— no! Please.” Her mind reached out for the bits and pieces of light falling away from her being, desperately trying to draw them back. “They’re mine! The strength is mine! Give them back!”
Larson’s light peeled away from her soul, leaving it strangely heavy and tired.
My Love, you were never meant to be a god. None of us were. You are only human Anithia, go to the life you are supposed to live. Go be with our daughter. She needs you. She needs you...
The light and his voice began to fade. Anithia felt herself falling back to the earth. All the stars she had gathered from Zorce were being sucked back into the heavens, her godhead revoked. Silently screaming, Ani clawed at the empty air but to no avail. She couldn’t fight the pull of Terra below her.
Then all was darkness.
Epilogue
A stranger’s face appeared above Ani’s own, pale as death, eyes like liquid silver, with lips the color of ash. His long, pure white hair cascaded from his head to frame a face of purest perfection. Ani tried to speak. She tried to ask him his name and what he wanted, but her mouth refused her brain’s command. He smiled, soft, sad, and reached down to lay a kiss upon her forehead.
“Soon Caroline, soon.” His whisper wrapped around her soul and crept into her mind.
Ani sighed deeply. Her eyes drooped and then closed. When she next awoke it was to the sound of sobbing. She tried to move, but as she did a wave of pain washed through her body, and a gasp caught in her throat. Her body’s pain throbbed in beat with her heart.
“Mommy?”
It was such a soft sound, full of tears and relief. Ani opened her eyes, thick and heavy with sleep, and found Missa’s tear streaked face floating above her. The child looked more worried than someone her age should have had to.
“Momma, are you okay?”
Ani once more tried to speak, but all she could do was blink, and even that small movement was too much. Just a few more moments of sleep was all she needed, and then she could hug her daughter and let Missa know everything was okay.
She drifted back into the darkness, a seemingly endless world of forever night broken only occasionally by the appearance of the pale man who had kissed her, his unearthly beauty, drawing him to her even in the dark world from which she could not seem to escape, comforting her with his presence, soothing her fears and pain.
It seemed forever before Ani opened her eyes again, but when she did it was to stabbing sunlight and an aching body.
“Lady Morlon? Can you hear me?” A new face floated in the sunshine above her head, blocking out the worst of the brightness. Ani tried to focus on the woman’s eyes, but the light still made her retinas feel like someone was poking them with small sewing needles. She closed them again but did not slip into the comfort of sleep.
“Ani?” The voice was softer this time, sounding worried.
Anithia opened her mouth to speak but only a croaking noise came out. She heard the woman and someone else move about the room. Gentle hands slid beneath her head, and someone gave her a drink. Ani’s tongue carefully lapped at the water as if she had been asleep so long she had forgotten how to drink. The cool liquid filled her mouth and slid down her throat in cool ecstasy, clearing away the mucus clinging to her vocal chords. This water tasted better than any fine wine.
“Slow down. You’ll choke.”
Ani opened her eyes again, slower this time, letting them adjust to the whiteness. A woman sat on the bed next to her, the water cup held in her hand. Ani knew the woman, but her mind couldn’t grasp on a name. Had her memories shattered? Would she recognize anyone other than Missa?
“Lady Morlon, it is I, Queen Elise.” The woman, the queen, smiled at her. Ani’s mind focused, but even so she still almost didn’t recognize the queen. The overly harsh lines which Ani had previously seen around Elise’s eyes and mouth were now gone, and Ani saw light and warmth in her soft green eyes. Long, coppery hair spilled around the queen’s face in carefully done curls, and she wore a simple dress of pale pink that spread over the edge of the bed. Ani felt faintly surprised. Elise’s neckline was not what Ani remembered being currently in fashion. It was modest and didn’t scoop to reveal her cleavage as so many of the women at court were fond of doing.
“Missa?” Ani asked. Where was her daughter? Missa was alive, wasn’t she? Her daughter’s tears had not been a dream, had they? Anithia felt a moment of panic. The queen must have sensed her thoughts for she reached over and stroked Ani’s face.
“It’s all right Anithia. Missa is safe. She is with Calto in the castle garden. Because of you and so many others, we’re all safe.” Elise continued to stroke her face.
“What happened?” Anithia asked. Had they destroyed Zorce? Did Merrac survive? And what of Anothosia?
“We won Ani. You helped destroy Zorce and decimated Sulya’s army at the gates.”
What? Ani didn’t remember any of that. The last thing she remembered was…was…Larson!
Ani’s chest tightened, and tears suddenly filled her eyes. Flashes of the battle came back to her like scattered pages from a story book, pages that had been ripped from its binding and tossed about. She had died. Omitan had died, and she had held Larson close to her soul only to have him reject her. He had cast her from paradise and stripped eternity from her.
Drawing in a shuddering breath, Anithia sobbed. Larson had rejected her. He had rejected her.
Strong arms slid underneath her and wrapped around her shoulders. They drew Ani into a careful, comforting embrace. “It’s okay Ani. Let it out. Let the pain out. You’re okay now. Missa’s safe and you can have a life. No more demons. No more suffering. Everything is fine.” Elise murmured into her hair and held her until Ani’s shuddering eased, until only quiet tears trailed down her face.
After a time Ani sniffed. She tried to push away from the queen and sit up on her own, but the effort only made her dizzy.
“Lady Gertunda, help me prop her up.” Elise ordered.
The queen’s strong hands held her firmly while another woman bustled around to the other side of Ani’s bed. Ani was grateful people were willing to help her. The room seemed to be spinning at an alarming rate.
Lady Gertunda? Ani vaguely remembered the name but not the face. She was sure Gertunda was someone important, but her mind was still too weary to think hard on the matter. Whoever she was the woman made the bed jiggle and wiggle as she stuffed more pillows behind Ani, which in turn made Ani want to throw up.
“Go tell Calto she’s awake,” Elise said to the woman. She gently laid Anithia against the soft pillows. Feather pillows, Ani thought. Real honest to god feather pillows encased in silk, something only important or rich people got to use. When was the last time she had rested her head on anything but the ground?
Ani sniffed again and rubbed at the tears on her face. She tried to get a glimpse of the Gertunda woman but only saw the outline of her body as it slipped out the large, wooden door.
“Anithia,” Queen Elise smiled faintly at her, “May I call you by your first name or would you prefer your full title and rank?”
Her full title and rank? Who was the queen kidding? How about calling her the Mistress of Nobody? Ha. With the excitement over, prig-ass Calto would no longer need her. She and Missa would disappear after this, and no one would care a whore’s tits what hole they crawled back into. What use were they to anyone now? Anithia felt her anger rise up, and she had the sudden urge to throw something. She felt cheated and used.
“High Priestess, have I said something to offend you?” Queen Elise’s posture became rigid, and her face guarded.
Anithia sighed. “No. I just...I don’t know. Call me whatever the hell ever you want. It doesn’t really matter what
you call a nobody.” Ani sagged further into the pillows. She was a nobody. Larson had spelled that out pretty plainly when he tossed her away from the grace of the gods. Maybe he never really loved her at all. Ani’s heart ached at the thought.
But no. It wasn’t true. She’d felt the strength of Larson’s love when their beings had become one.
She started to cry again.
Elise reached down and brushed away some of Ani’s tears. Her hand rested gently on Ani’s cheek. “Don’t Ani. Don’t you dare say you are a nobody.”
Looking at the queen’s face with blurry eyes, Ani saw Elise blink rapidly as several tears slipped free.
There was a light knock on the door, and then the Gertunda woman approached. “My Lady, Lord High Priest Morlon is here as you requested.”
Ani got a glimpse of Gurtunda’s face now. Pieces of who she was floated vaguely back into her memory. The woman wore her hair atop her head in a twist of complicated curls, and her belly swelled beneath a red brocaded dress of fine Ilian silk. Gertunda was married, Ani thought, or maybe she was she going to be married to someone named Luwick? No, that didn’t sound right. Ani’s mind struggled with her disjointed memories until trying to think made her head hurt.
Gertunda slipped back out, and Calto stepped in. “Anithia. Thank the goddess you awoke. I was so afraid you wouldn’t.” He walked toward the bed to stand beside Elise.
He was dressed, not in his priestly robes, but in those of any nobleman. His shirt, a cream colored silk, held ruffles close about his throat, spilling halfway down his chest. The shirt was tucked into matching pants which slid into leather boots of nearly the same cream color. The boots came up and over his knees. Calto’s dress coat was a soft peach color with tiny sewed on pearls set in a swirling design down the front. The only jewelry he wore were two, small, gold hoops, one in each ear, and his order of warriors ring, gold with a sword and staff crossed over the biggest damn diamond Ani had ever seen. She suspected it would poke her eye out if she got too close to it.
Ani’s heart ached once more. Sweet goddess, Calto looked just like Larson. He had even cut his braid off and now wore his hair shoulder length like Larson had.
Ani swallowed against the growing lump in her throat. The tears came again. She could not bear the sight of him. The blue eyes like ice on fire, the soft curve of his smile, his perfect face; it was too much.
Queen Elise looked up at him. Her face was a confused mask of anger and sorrow. Calto tried to give her a brief look, but when her eyes locked with his he paled and did not look away. Her brows furrowing, Elise pointed an accusing finger. “You have made this mess Priest— fix it.”
Calto gave a quick nod. Her frown lessening only a little, Elise rose from the bed, walked to the bedroom door, jerked it open, and slammed it hard behind her.
Ani couldn’t take it anymore. She couldn’t take Larson’s rejection, Calto’s appearance, and she certainly could not take whatever drama existed between those two. Turning her head away, she let her tears slide free.
Calto said nothing while she cried. Instead, he sat on the edge of her bed and gently held her hand. Finally, after more than fifteen minutes, she stopped, wiped her eyes, and lay quietly while staring at the wall. After a time that became boring, so she allowed her gaze to wander.
They had put her in a really elaborate bedroom, one far fancier than anything she had slept in before. Sitting on the furthest wall, partially blocked by a screen, was a dressing table with three mirrors which curved around its edges so whoever sat before it could make sure every curl was perfect. The screen had large light blue and white flowers painted on it, and a dressing gown hung on its corner. On the left side of the room she saw a divan set against the wall with large over-stuffed pillows strewn across a lime green throw. In front of the divan sat a low table set for tea. Two ornately decorated chairs, also with matching throws, were placed about the table, The walls held scalloped designs, and the ceiling bore a muted fresco of a flower garden with rabbits and birds and a young girl kneeling down with her dress flared out upon the ground. Ani swallowed. The entire room screamed expensive, which made her feel uncomfortable. Apparently, no place more appropriate could be found.
“Ani,” Calto finally said, still holding her hand. “Please talk to me. Tell me how I can help.” He hesitated a moment and when she didn’t answer, continued. “I want to let you know that…”
Anithia didn’t let him finish. Jerking her head around, she threw him her best glare. “To hell with what you want. Why are you sitting there pretending like I matter…pretending Missa is anything to you but a now useless vessel?” Her anger grew, stronger, more pressing, and so did her dizziness. If she’d had the strength she would have risen up from the bed and punched him straight in his aristocratic nose. “You just go back to the high-life you were living, Mister High Priest and Mighty Lord. Don’t you worry about us. Missa and I will disappear again. We’ll be out of your hair in a short time.”
Calto’s expression seemed shocked. She had caught him off guard. Good. Straight talk and blunt honesty were the only weapons she had against the garish prat. Any moment now he would draw his aristocratic arrogance about him and tell her what a selfish little strumpet she was and then admonish her for her gutter rat ways.
Ani felt her own bit of shock when none of that happened.
Calto’s face became pained. A slight flush colored his cheeks. Dropping his eyes to the floor, he shook his head.
Did he honestly display humility and embarrassment?
“Anithia, please,” he finally choked out. “I know I deserve your anger, but please don’t make this any harder for me.”
Anithia’s eyes narrowed. So! A new tactic. A new approach at getting whatever the hell he wanted. “Oh, I haven’t even started making it hard. After the way you’ve lied to Missa and me, after the way you manipulated us, you deserve to be drug through the streets behind a horse and then, if there is anything left afterwards, whipped until you’re nothing but raw meat.” The venom of betrayal and deceit filled her voice. A righteous anger spilled into her body, consuming her, drowning her in pain. “You deceived me into believing you loved me, into believing I had a place in your heart and your home, just so you could steal my daughter.” Ani struggled to sit up further in bed but found herself falling sideways over the edge.
Calto moved quick to catch her, something she found both irritating and frustrating. She didn’t need his damned help and, by the Seven and Two, the bastard’s cologne smelled like Larson’s, a strong spicy scent screaming of sex and dark steamy nights.
Ani struggled against his hold, hitting his chest as hard as she could, screaming faint obscenities with her torn throat. She wanted a knife so she could cut Larson’s face off Calto’s body. Calto didn’t deserve to look beautiful like her husband.
Her tantrum only lasted a minute before she calmed, completely exhausted. She lay limp against his chest, resting partially in his lap while he rocked her back and forth like she was a small child. At least that’s how she felt while encircled in his arms, listening to his heartbeat. She felt small and protected.
Hot tears started down her face again. “I heard you proclaim your love for Elise. When were you going to call off our wedding? Have you even proposed to her yet?”
Calto didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he took a few deep breathes before speaking softly. “She is a queen. I am a high priest of Anothosia and merely a noblemen outside the line of rule, albeit the highest ranking noblemen in the kingdom not directly tied to royal blood. Even so, the queen has made it clear she does not wish to have anything other than a formal relationship with me.”
“But you love her. Not me?” Ani’s voice sounded childlike. Vulnerable.
“I love her, yes,” Calto admitted. “And no, I don’t love you Anithia, but I do care what happens to you and Missa.” Drawing her back from his chest, he cradled her in the crook of his left arm.
“It is true. The only reason I brought you to Gra
ce was to further my own ambitions. I gave you the title of Mistress of my House never intending to honor it. For that insult I am deeply, deeply sorry. But I want to make things right.” His grip tightened. His face grew serious. “I will honor your title. You and Missa are to make your home at Morlon Manor once it is rebuilt. Until such time that is accomplished, you are invited to stay at the castle. Anithia, you are Lady Morlon and the High Priestess of Omitan. No one can take those titles away from you, not even me. You have earned them with your sacrifice and your willingness to die for those you love and even for those you did not know. I fully intend on going through with our marriage, and I will do everything I can to be a good husband to you.”
Watching him, Ani couldn’t help but believe. Calto’s eyes were wet and sorrowful. He showed no arrogance, no superiority, just the pain of someone looking for forgiveness, someone afraid forgiveness was not coming.
“You mean it. You really mean it.” Ani felt her body relax and her anger slip away. Even so, she still was not sure. She still felt a tightness in her chest. Calto’s proposal might be real, but it was definitely cool. Theirs would be a marriage of convenience. No true passion could exist between them. “I might be some sort of granddaughter to a god, Calto, but there’s no way to prove it and I’m not highborn…you would be marrying beneath your station.” She searched his face, looking for the lie.
But it wasn’t there. Calto did not lie to her.
His finger stroked through her hair. “Anithia, you are one of the most beautiful women I have seen, but even Zorce himself could not make a succubus who would steal my heart from my queen. I have loved Elise from the day I first saw her. No other can claim my heart, but she will never be mine. That much is clear. And regardless of your low social birth, you truly are related to a god. Besides, what you did for this kingdom will elevate you and your descendants for hundreds of years to come.” His eyes became unfocused and faraway.
Sighing, Ani lay silent in his arms for a moment before she spoke, her voice soft and sad. “I-I died Calto, and Larson rejected me.”