《Whisper Of Gods》


 Rylla Short Story 1 - The Dance For Freedom.

    From a very young age Rylla learnt she could not rely on her parents. To them, their child did not exist, or she did, but only when they could somehow make money off her. Most days would pass without even a glance from them.


    Rylla didn¡¯t know if she should be thankful for it or not. At one point it could be worse, they could treat her like one of the whores that worked for them, sell their bodies to anyone who showed interest, or beat them for not satisfying the customer enough. While her parents did not lay a hand on Rylla yet, it was just a matter of time.


    Papa Oswyn more than not was too busy drinking liquor, slurring his words and stumbling about the brothel, only beating up the whores who displeased him in some way. If Rylla just stayed out of his way during those moments, then she was safe. Mama Fleya on the other hand was a lot easier to displease. The only times she did pay attention to her daughter was to remind Rylla how worthless she was, and what a shame that she did not inherit any good looks and instead possessed a body with no curves to be desired by a man. It was Mama¡¯s idea to put Rylla to work as soon as she turned 8, to get her to manage the rooms and clean them. One day that work would not be enough, and even the sound of Rylla¡¯s breath would displease her Mama to the point of being hit.


    Until then Rylla would work as hard as she could, perhaps earning the attention she craved so much. For now, dreams would have to suffice, on how one day maybe she would be able to read, or maybe dance like the women in the pub opposite the brothel.


    And oh, how much Rylla wanted to dance, to spin until the ground was nothing but a blur, to move her body without care, and most importantly to feel the freedom while dancing. The freedom she currently did not have to do such things, or to basically enjoy her life. Rylla was convinced she was nothing more but a pet her parents had, and now they do not know what to do with it so they just keep it locked inside.


    One day that cage would break, and she would be free.


    Moans filled the corridors of the brothel, each whore performed as if their life dependant on it, and each man was too oblivious to notice the acting, too lost in the pleasure they came there for, or maybe their ego¡¯s too big to ever admit a woman would not sound like that for them. The moans were a result of fear of Mama Fleya, the beating they would receive for bringing a bad name to the business, and the lack of pay the next day. So, the acting continued, moans grew louder with each passing moment.


    Rylla tried not to look inside the rooms, yet her young mind couldn¡¯t help but to wonder what fully went on inside. Only when she looked for a moment too long, Rylla questioned how the girls could do those acts, to not runaway at the first opportunity given. Those men looked cruel, they did everything they wanted, grabbed, and touched what they wanted, many times looked as if they got pleasure from the discomfort, or pain of the woman beneath them.


    Whoever called these brothels, pleasure houses have obviously not considered the woman inside them, as they certainly did not experience any pleasure or satisfaction.


    After that Rylla tried not to look inside, it bothered her more than words could say. Not being able to help the woman there, made her feel more worthless than any other time her mother insulted her. So, with eyes on the floor, Rylla cleaned the rooms in silence, attempting not to focus on all the noise around her.


    One day, Rylla woke up to footsteps near her door. For some it would be normal, but her small room was located in the attic, there was nothing up there but a few ripped, patched up dresses and a bed roll that definitely seen better days. Yet, the clacking of heels came closer and closer, until her mama opened the door.


    Mama¡¯s long brown hair was elegantly braided back, the few grey hairs usually present were hidden, the soft features on her face appeared sharper, highlighted at different points and the cheeks were filled with rouge. The woman stood at the door, wore an elegant deep blue dress, would have looked breathtaking, if not for those brown eyes that were filled with rage.


    ¡°Get up and follow me.¡±


    Rylla tried to swallow the fear that grew in her throat, mama never asked her to go anywhere, and while her mother glared at her before, that rage behind those eyes told Rylla nothing good would come out of this. However, nothing good would come if she didn¡¯t listen either.


    There wasn¡¯t much time to worry about their destination and Rylla¡¯s lack of dress, it only took a few moments to arrive in front of her parents¡¯ room. The door was already open, revealing Papa Oswyn passed out on the bed, the stench of alcohol clung to his skin. Mama did not seem to pay much attention to her intoxicated husband, instead she grabbed Rylla¡¯s arm, and dragged her in front of the closet. Another few moments passed when a dress was tossed towards her.


    ¡°Put it on child.¡± Mama Fleya huffed.


    Embarrassment filled Rylla¡¯s body, her cheeks warmed under her mothers scrutinising stare. There was no room to change in, no closet large enough to go inside and the bathroom was on the other side of the hall. With clumsy hands Rylla took off her nightgown as quickly as she could, tried and failed to not notice the figures that passed the door and stared at her body.


    Luckily, the new dress was easy to put on. It was the finest thing Rylla ever had on her. The material was smooth on her skin, unlike all the torn dresses that laid in the attic, the colour was a deep pink instead of the washed-out browns. The dress revealed her arms and hugged her torso, then flowed down all the way to the floor. Mama did not waste more time as she swiftly started to work on her daughter''s hair, braided it in a similar manner of her own.


    It was only for a few moments that Rylla saw herself in the small mirror on the wall on their way out, but she did see a pretty, young woman, not the worthless, ugly thing Rylla thought of herself. The girl in the mirror had smooth long chestnut hair with light brown eyes, her skin was fair and smooth, the face resembled a younger version of Fleya Insallor, the known beauty in the whole of Nolis, if not in the whole of Koragon. Perhaps the child did not possess the curves Mama Fleya often wanted her to, but it was a pretty child nonetheless. And sometimes, it was hard for Rylla to remember that she was only ten, that she was in fact nothing more than a child, who perhaps had seen too much at such a young age.


    It was strange to walk down the street in the fancy new dress and shoes. It was obvious people glanced towards them, whispered about them. Before Rylla could¡¯ve listen in, hear a few words people said about her, a tight hand wrapped around her arm and pulled her forward, rushing her along the street. Even with the pain that spread on her skin, the unavoidable bruise that already formed, Rylla felt a strange hint of happiness, all because for once in her life she had been seen.


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.They eventually come to a halt in front of a large, stone house, next to a river. Must be a house of a lord, with pockets deep enough to afford a house by water. That was a luxury not owned by many, mostly the king''s loyal friends or the king himself.


    Inside the house looked even bigger, each wall was covered in paintings, in the middle there was a chandelier made of millions of little stones, a servant ready to be commanded in each passing room. When they made it to a room in the far end of the house, Mama Fleya bowed deeply, towards the man that sat near a window.


    ¡°Lord Enan.¡± Mama Fleya said sweetly.


    The lord looked at them both up and down, assessing if they were worth his attention and time. Lord Enan was on the older side, if Rylla had to guess she would say he was in his fifties at least, his grey hair was cut short and so was his beard. The lord certainly was not hungry often, he must be heavier than any customer that Rylla had seen in the brothel.


    ¡°Why have you come Fleya?¡± Lord Enan¡¯s raspy voice echoed through the room.


    ¡°I am here to present you, my daughter.¡± Mama¡¯s cold eyes moved toward Rylla. ¡°To offer her to you for marriage.¡±


    All blood must have drained from Rylla¡¯s face, not even the cynical look from the lord made the colour come back.


    ¡°Do you consider me a fool Fleya?¡±


    ¡°I know she is young, but I promise she will do fine. Remember where she was raised, what she has seen.¡± Mama¡¯s voice trembled. ¡°Rylla would perform her duties soundly.¡±


    The lord made his way out the chair, stomping towards Mama. He grabbed her face harshly, forcing eye contact.


    ¡°And do I look as if I would be interested in a child?¡± The lord raised his voice. ¡°I asked for a recommendation of a fine lady for a wife, someone pure and ready for Ladyship, not some child of a whore.¡±


    Enraged, the lord threw Mama into a wall, both were panting as they were collecting themselves. Lord Enan sat back in his chair, continued to look out the window, and not spared another glance at his guests. While Mama Fleya patted down her hair and dress, bowed one more time towards the lord and left. It took all the power Rylla had in her legs not to be left behind and keep up with her mother.


    When they returned home, the girls of the house gave Rylla pitiful looks, as if they knew what happened hours before. Mama Fleya on the other hand just said she didn¡¯t want to be bothered, and to not let her see her daughter again for now.


    The shock of the situation just finished wearing off Rylla, the knowledge her parents were willing to sell her off to some old lord was devastating. It was one thing knowing her parents didn¡¯t want to be involved in Rylla¡¯s life, but a whole different thing of want to actively get rid of her. To expect her to perform duties as a wife at the age of ten. She was their daughter, and yet even her body had a price.


    Without realisation, Rylla stood in the middle of the corridor, broom, and cloth in her hand. After arriving back, she forgot to change out of the fine dress, or to remove the neat braid out. The shock of this betrayal was too much.


    ¡°How much for you sweet?¡± A voice sounded behind her.


    The man was intoxicated, covered in dishevelled clothing, obviously a satisfied client of the brothel.


    ¡°I am very sorry sir, I just clean, I am not for those purposes.¡± Rylla tried to sound as polite as she could, but his breath reeked and it was the first time she actually spoke today, her voice fell a bit too quiet.


    The man did not waste his time in grabbing Rylla¡¯s throat, bending down and kissing it. Rylla tried to push, tried to get him off as the other girls watched, unsure what to do.


    ¡°No sir, I am a child. Not yet a woman for this brothel.¡± Her voice panicked and out of breath.


    Finally, the man stumbled away, unsure if it was from the resistance or if the alcohol had gotten the better of him, but that did not matter to him. Nothing else mattered to this man, but the simple fact a woman, no, a child, said no to him.


    ¡°My deepest apologies for this sir, I will make sure to discipline this child, please pick any other whore here as our apology.¡± Mama Fleya''s voice sounded through the corridor, it was so sweet, yet filled with venom. Her brown eyes fixed on Rylla.


    There wasn¡¯t enough time to see which girl that man took back inside the room, Mama Fleya ran up to Rylla and slapped her so hard she fell to the floor. Not enough time to look around to see who was left to watch what happened next, all Rylla saw was a leg flying towards her head.


    Once.


    Twice.


    Then it switched to her stomach. And again.


    Once.


    Then twice.


    Rylla felt blood coming from somewhere, everything just hurt so bad.


    ¡°Next time you take it.¡± Mama Fleya kicked again. ¡°It is a miracle a man showed interest in you in the first place.¡±


    How many times Rylla was hit after that she lost count, all the pain merged into one, and it didn¡¯t stop until darkness surrounded her.


    They left her there.


    The other girls of the house didn¡¯t bother to help Rylla, move her out of the pool of blood she laid in. Even after they noticed she was awake again, no one moved a single step forward to help her up. The only advantage of that was when Rylla moved towards the door to leave, no one stopped her.


    People on the street looked horrified as they glanced towards her. Dried blood covered Rylla¡¯s face and hair, the side of the dress was completely ruined by the dark red spot on it. Yet even then, no one bothered to come up and ask if she needed any help.


    Have people always been this cruel?


    Unsure how much time has passed, Rylla finally stopped when she arrived at the side of a river just outside of Nolis. The capital was so huge she never realised such a large, wooded area was nearby and with such a lovely river too.


    It was private and away from everyone.


    Far away enough that no one would see this, no one would hear about this, or mock her for this.


    For the first time Rylla let herself cry, let the tears flood her face and hit the ground and the sobs escaped her lips. The more tears fell the more relief she felt, oddly enough she also felt a sense of freedom.


    Here, she had control, or the lack of it if she so chose to.


    So Rylla let her body be free, do what she has always wanted to.


    She started dancing.

 Aymer Short Story 1 - The Only Way

    At first, Aymer was a happy child.


    He was the child of Nevan Tuval, the king¡¯s adviser and right hand. Which only meant that the boy was spoiled rotten since the day he was born. The mansion they lived in was near the palace, each room filled with luxuries most could only dream of, servants available at any moment, and most importantly the attention and blessing from King Mayas himself. No one dared to discipline the child, or deny him anything, after all it might have displeased the King, and he was not known for his kindness.


    Even with no direct discipline, and restrictions, Aymer remained peaceful. The servants dotted on him and his good behaviour. He was kind, smart and polite, always looked out for others, and shared what he had. Most were surprised, that a child raised without a mother turned out as such a blessing.


    The only person that was not pleased by this, was Nevan himself, he had different expectations of the boy. If anything, Nevan hoped that losing a mother figure would toughen up the child, would have made him more cold towards the filthy peasants, or at least more disgusted by them. Yet, it seemed Aymer was set on showing he had everlasting love for all, and Nevan would not have that for much longer. His son was born to be the general, that would finally take over the Kingdom of Tairia.


    For now the boy could play, Aymer was only four after all.


    Two more years passed of blissful ignorance from the servants and Aymer.


    The prestigious school shouted praises about the boy to anyone who would listen, what a good leader Empire of Koragon would have, the bright future Aymer would bring with his knowledge and kindness.


    But the same praises started to bring the boy harm.


    Kids no longer wanted to include Aymer in their activities, resentment started to build in other children and, voices started to whisper as he passed. Even at the age of six, kids could be vicious. Rumours spread that the King would threaten the teachers to pass the tests, and praise Aymer, that he wasn¡¯t a kind boy but in reality considered everyone less than him, and the worse of all rumours, that he killed his mother on purpose. For a child to hear that, it hurt worse than anything else. How could some think Aymer would do that? Why would someone choose not to have a mother? Not to be held at night, or read to? To choose not to come home to a hug and a warm smile?


    At that moment something snapped inside of him, Aymer realised there was no point being kind, if there was no one to be kind to.


    From that point onwards, the child kept more to himself. No more of bringing the cooks fresh baked cake to school, or any books others might have found interesting. All that brought unnecessary attention, and Aymer just wanted to be left alone, not to be the son of Nevan Tuval, to have all those expectations of greatness, to be some bringer of peace. He just wanted to be Aymer.


    Another year passed, and school never improved. Each time he had to leave for school, Aymer wished for his mother, to be able to cry out all his troubles and inner thoughts. While the servants were nice and treated him well, none stepped up to the motherly role, and his father, hearing more then two sentences a day would be a miracle.


    The only comfort the boy had was when he looked in the mirror. He never met his mother, all Aymer knew was her maiden name was Halia Ambal, she was born in Klery, Koragon and her last portrait hang on his wall. The woman looked kind, her features soft with long, dark, brown hair, and piercing blue eyes. When Aymer smiled just like she did in the portrait, they looked so alike. His skin might be a few shades lighter, eyes a few shades darker, and his hair was only passed his ears, but the colour was the same, and the soft features were present on his face too. Aymer carried the pieces he had of his mother with pride, after all it was all he had.


    The looks and rumours continued, some spread like fire around the school, while others died after a couple of hours. This time it was different, it was worse.


    ¡°Is it true you told the king to kill my mother?!¡± A boy shouted, with tears in his eyes.


    There was a group of kids behind him too, all listened in closely to the interaction, observed every movement made. In truth Aymer did not know what the boy in front of him was talking about, he saw him before in a class or two, heard the boy spread rumours like everyone else, but Aymer never bothered to pay enough attention to even learn the boys name.


    It was after school, the teachers were at the front and the group cornered him in the classroom. The wooden desks were moved away for space, and there was no way for Aymer to leave even if he wanted to.


    ¡°Did you not hear me!¡± The boy shoved Aymer into the wall. ¡°Did you think that because you don¡¯t have a mother, others can¡¯t have one too?¡±


    ¡°I wish I could tell you what happened, but I cannot, I don¡¯t even know who your mother is.¡± Aymer pleaded.


    His head hurt from hitting the wall. There was anger in everyone¡¯s eyes, hatred as they looked at him. They all blamed him for this death, they needed someone to point the finger to.


    ¡°He is probably just saying that.¡± Some girl said in the background. ¡°I heard that he is made to lie constantly to be able to hold the secrets of the king.¡±


    Others nodded in agreement, which only encouraged the rage in the boy¡¯s face. There was nothing Aymer could say or do to make them believe him. It was years of worthless lies that kids knew about him, but they considered it facts, assumed him to be something less than human, that was not capable of emotions, and apparently someone who sent people to execution.


    The next moment the boy at the front punched Aymer, his eye was throbbing immediately. A second of silence passed the group as they registered what had occurred in front of them, but as soon as they did, they all burst out laughing and cheered for another hit. So the boy lit up with excitement, listened to his peers and hit Aymer again, and again.


    It only stopped when the teacher returned to the classroom, quickly yelling at the kids who swiftly run away before they could receive a punishment, or admit who was the one to hit Aymer.


    The nurse cleaned up the wounds the best she could, but they still hurt, and one eye wouldn¡¯t budge open.


    Stolen novel; please report.Nevan Tuval¡¯s reaction was almost worse than the incident itself. At first it was just screaming at Aymer, questioning how this could have happened, and how could his son be pathetic enough to be beat like that. The words became more insulting with each sentence. Then his father started to become violent, throwing items from his desk, anything from papers, ink, candles, books, or seals, then it was his chair that was shattered against the wall. It didn¡¯t take long for this destruction not to satisfy Nevan.


    With one eye closed shut, and the other blurred by tears, Aymer didn¡¯t see when his father grabbed the collar of his shirt and threw him at the wall. He was better prepared for the flying remains of a chair, but they still cut his arms open.


    With each assault, his father screamed.


    ¡°Weak.¡±


    ¡°Pathetic.¡±


    ¡°Useless.¡±


    ¡°Coward.¡±


    The words kept repeating in Aymer¡¯s head.


    Next day, King Mayas was informed of the incident and the boy¡¯s state. The King liked Aymer enough to pay him a short visit. Asked a few questions about his welfare and injuries, and which boy in the school did this.


    It was more about disrespecting the Tuval family, the family so close to the royals, especially in a school that only allowed children of the most loyal lords. This incident was unacceptable. So, when King Mayas asked the questions to identify the child, Aymer stammered through his words unable to answer. The king was obviously displeased, his usual tall body seemed to reach higher, the hazel eyes almost seemed to glow, and his usual brown hair looked darker.


    First, the boy insulted his father and now the king.


    When Aymer felt better, he got out of bed and stumbled his way towards his father''s office. The chance of receiving any comfort was unlikely, but the need to have a parent by his side grew, alongside with the thoughts of what it would have been like to have his mother''s arms wrapped around Aymer¡¯s small body in moments like this.


    Dreams like that just weren¡¯t meant to be for a boy like him.


    His father''s voice started to fill the hall, the disappointment present in every word. It soon became clear he was talking with the king about the recent events.


    ¡°The boy should be no son of mine.¡± His father said. ¡°I should have known better than to let him get soft like he has. ¡°


    ¡°Aymer is an idiot like his mother.¡± King Mayas grumbled. ¡°But I have plans for him Nevan, plans which involve him in a position of higher power. Punish him as you please, but if you disown him, there will be consequences.¡±


    ¡°The suitable punishment is for him to live on the streets. But as you wish my king.¡±


    The rest of the conversation was nothing more than a blur, Aymer tried to run as far away as he could from the office, he heard his father say he doesn¡¯t even wish to have him as his son. Maybe the kids at school were right? Maybe he deserved their treatment? There was no other explanation to fathers¡¯ behaviour, or the way King Mayas looked at him.


    No, no, no, no, no. Aymer told himself in his mind. That was not going to be his story, the other kids were wrong, so was his father.


    Aymer stayed up the whole night, the plan was engraved in his mind. He would prove them wrong.


    The servants were worried, tried to whisper their comforts, take care of the swellings present all over his body. They even made his favourite omelette for breakfast. Aymer couldn¡¯t look them in the eyes, not with what he planned to do.


    After this he would no longer be their kind, young lord.


    It didn¡¯t take long for Aymer to find the child from yesterday. Immediate hatred sparked in his belly. That boy looked so proud of what he did, the harm he caused. Most likely believed the fight avenged his mother.


    In a matter of moments Aymer charged at him, tackled him to the ground. Other kids quickly scattered away, screams filled the school grounds.


    There was no thoughts, no feelings in that act. Aymer just kept hitting the child under him, his fist did not stopping even when the teachers arrived, and a warm liquid scattered on his face and hands. Someone pulled him away, took him to a secluded classroom, made him sit there by himself, told him to think of his actions. But they wouldn¡¯t understand, not with the expectations others hand of him.


    If everyone thought he was evil, why shouldn¡¯t he be?


    Time passed and the classroom slowly dimmed. With Aymer¡¯s swollen eye it was getting hard to see.


    ¡°Was yesterday not enough?¡± His father''s stern voice echoed in the room.


    ¡°I wanted to make you proud father.¡± Aymer mumbled. ¡°I took it in my own hands, that boy hurt me yesterday, so I made sure he got it worse.¡±


    His father''s lips curled into a small smile, his hand lifted to gently rub the top of Aymer¡¯s head. ¡°Good job child, now remember, no one, apart from the king himself is above the Tuval name, these people are scum and should be treated as such. Don¡¯t make me disappointed again.¡±


    A small smiled formed on Aymer¡¯s face. That small motion hurt him so bad, but he couldn¡¯t help himself, his father''s praise was all he craved and wanted. All Aymer had to do was accept what other thought of him and abandon the person he was before.


    Next day as a reward his father took Aymer for a walk, told him there is a surprise and a reward waiting for him..


    They made their way to King¡¯s Mayas castle, and as soon as Aymer noticed what the surprise was, it took all he had in him not to throw up in front of his father, to scratch his eyes out so he wouldn¡¯t have to look at it again.


    From the castle walls hang the boy Aymer had attacked just yesterday, next to him was a man and a teacher from his school, most likely the one who has stopped the fight.


    ¡°This is your reward son.¡±


    ¡°Father, this is-¡± Aymer nearly let the sobs escape his lips, but his father''s words cut him off.


    ¡°I understand, seeing this for the first time can be difficult.¡± Father¡¯s words were soft, not as if he was speaking about the people he had executed. ¡°I spoke with the king, and we decided to finish the work you started. Bastard son and father should have known better than to lay a hand on you, the teachers have also been notified that if they shall ever stop you again, they will hang too.¡±


    This was not what Aymer wanted. Even if he thought he accepted himself as what people said, the cold, uncaring child he must have been, it was not so easy to kill the person he always was. Now he mourned for the child that gently swung in the wind, the life that boy never got to live.


    And it was all Aymer¡¯s fault.

 Lyath Short Story 1 - Small Towns And Unusual Circumstances

    The boy was unlike others from the day he was born. As he possessed the power of the goddess of darkness and shadows, the goddess Tagra.


    The birth was an unusual one, striking fear in the young parents and other people of the village. No one has even heard of stories of babes born in a shroud of darkness. It didn¡¯t take long for the news to spread, and rumours of the cursed newborn circled the village.


    Even with the strange beginning, the parents didn¡¯t mind, the babe was pleasant, didn¡¯t cry much and seemed to adjust quickly to the world around him. So, the boy was named Lyath and was surrounded by unconditional love from the start. Other villagers also came to love the child, even if his behaviours grew more odd as the time passed.


    When the babe started to move around by himself, he would crawl to corners and wave his hands around at things that others could not see, he would cry and then stop as if someone had calmed him down. When Lyath was two, his baby sister Gadia was born. Fortunately for the family, the second child was born in normal circumstances, which brought more worry for their unusual first child.


    Not too long after that Lyath started being more talkative, forming his sentences and telling stories to his family. The first story he told was of the stars, how the mother created them out of her essence, which she then used to create gods. The remaining stars in the sky watch over people, and their actions, watching the gods under the mountain, and are ready to aid us in a time of chaos. Needless to say, the parents were very confused where their three year old heard such stories, or how he learned some of those words.


    Then he started to talk to himself constantly, smiling at empty spaces and repeating odd words. Lyath seemed to develop faster than other children his age, started to read advanced books at the age of four, and most shockingly held a small performance for his parents to show off how beautifully he could throw knives. His father couldn¡¯t run fast enough to Lyath to grab the knife off him. The blade flew straight into the middle of the target, only Gadia clapped her small hands in awe.


    As Gadia and Lyath played, the parents started to think on getting their oldest assessed in some way. No child should of been like that, too many strange things were occurring around the boy for it too be normal. The mother thought she would get a head full of grey hairs at this rate from the stress, she wanted her son safe and well, not running around performing knives tricks.


    Even with all the oddness around him, Lyath was kind and loved by everyone. Maybe, but a few superstitious elders. Even thought he was a small child, he tried to help in any way he could. A pregnant woman carrying fresh food back to her house, Lyath was the first to run up to her to help carry the load back, someone lost their pet, Lyath would stay up all night in search of the animal. Even more odd was he succeeded with most of his tasks no matter how impossible some of them seemed for a child. Not to mention at the age of five, Lyath already attended a school with kids aged ten or above.


    Gadia was the opposite of her brother. She was shy around strangers and liked to keep to herself. She adored her brother and always chased him around to play, in return Lyath became protective of his sister, wanting to protect her from all the negative things he has heard of and encountered.


    Now what others did not see was the goddess that accompanied Lyath nearly everywhere. The first time he laid his eyes on her as a babe, Lyath did not stop crying for hours on end. After all, when the gods were not under the mountain, their looks were something straight out of a kid''s horror story.


    The goddess Tagra was almost pitch black, her body was nothing more than a deformed shadow, resembling the body of a woman, the dark fingers were sharp and could cut through any material. Tagra had no eyes, she didn¡¯t need them, her body felt everything around her. The part that scared Lyath the most was her teeth, they resembled the teeth of an animal, maybe a wolf. The goddess did tell stories of how star born body, spoke of her pitch black long her, pearl white skin, and what she described as obsidian eyes. Lyath wished to see his goddess that way one day, but Tagra was adamant about not taking him under the mountain.


    She whispered stories of the creation of universe, gods and humans. Told him the secrets of nature, taught him long forgotten subjects, and slowly introduced him to combat, as he will learn how to fight like a god.


    The one thing that was difficult to explain was, what Tagra was to the boy. There was no easy way to tell Lyath, that she was a part of him, possessed a part of his heart and brain, he was no god but was born with the essence of one. It allowed him to be quicker than others, smarter, and possess abilities of the gods, that part was something she had yet to explain.


    So, Tagra sat down the boy one evening before he turned six.


    ¡°Do you remember me telling you a story of how gods can be one with humans?¡± Tagra spoke.


    Lyath looked at her with his big obsidian eyes, paying close attention to each word the goddess said.


    ¡°You will soon turn to an age where your abilities will manifest. However, no power comes without a cost.¡±


    ¡°There must be a balance.¡± Lyath nodded.


    The goddess smiled. ¡°Yes, that¡¯s right. These costs are unusual, they can be harmful to the individual. No matter how much I do not wish for you to experience them, my presence in you has consequences.¡±


    The boy said he understood, but when the time came, and shadows responded to his call, he was not ready for what happened the next day.


    The parents were still unaware of what was happening with their child, no person in their village was suitable to hold an assessment. And when Lyath started crying, screaming he lost his sight and all he could see was darkness, his mother wept with him. It went on for days, until his sight came back.


    Tagra was there the whole time, pitying the boy. A few times she tried to explain he does not need his sight just like she doesn¡¯t. Lyath is part of the shadows, he can use them to see others could not, but he was still only six, at such a change and hysteria from him, no information was coming through to his head.


    It wasn¡¯t too surprising that Lyath did not want to call his powers again. He resisted for as long as he could, but the goddess was a part of him and the essence needed to be used. Next time Lyath called the shadows was in front of his family, a simple thing really, disappeared from his seat on the table, and appeared again in front of his mother to get more food. This was when the parents realised that there might be a god involved. One of those ancient beings, that now were only present in the stories.


    Gadia was only more amazed by her brother, couldn¡¯t stop talking about him to her play friends. With her big mouth and praise, the whole village found out of the young boys abilities. If people adored him previously, they were now close to warship. Even those pesky elders, who thought of him as nothing more than dirt, bowed before him as Lyath passed them on the street.


    Not long passed, for the boy to be more comfortable with the powers. Tagra taught him everyday of her knowledge, even when he inevitably lost his sight, Lyath listened to what the goddess said, growing more comfortable in the darkness.


    Three years after that, the news of the god blessed child, reached all the way to Kroln, the capital of Tairia. After many discussions with the scholars, and the council, King Ior decided it would be best to go himself to Azmar.


    Most people did not believe the villagers. God blessed were rare, always born with some purpose. The most common people with gods by their side were the royals, it was well known that the first kings of each kingdom had a god, and now it was it the royal bloods to contain some of that essence and have their spirits be more inviting to new gods, to accompany the current royals. King Ior was not blessed with one, but his dear son, Prince Jothyan was. Although which god it was would not be known till later.


    So for a commoner to be born with the essence, was as good as unheard of. Nonetheless it needed to be investigated. A war was coming close with Koragon, and another god chosen might be what gets their country the needed advantage.


    Villagers screamed as King Ior arrived to Azmar. It was the first time in a hundred years the small town hosted a king. If there was a longer notice, more preparations would have been done. The streets would be cleaner, some buildings repainted, and the finest of dinners would have been prepared.


    Lyath was already waiting at the village hall, sat closely to Gadia and his father. Tagra wandered the room, until she sat comfortably in the corner. All the most important people in Lyath¡¯s life were here, and because of that he only felt more nervous.


    There was no way for him to protect his family from the king, no way he mastered the sword enough to defeat royal guards in case something went wrong. Gadia grabbed his hand and squeezed it, the small reassurance meant the world to him.


    The doors creaked opened and the king¡¯s face came into view. Lyath released his breath, when he noticed the king was not as intimidating as he imagined. The man that stood at the door was neither small or tall, had bright blonde hair, and deep blue eyes like the ocean. The only thing that was unsettling about the king, was his face did not display any emotions. There was no telling what was on that man¡¯s mind.


    King Ior and Lyath both stared at one another, assessing every single detail.


    ¡°My king.¡± The village leader bowed deeply, followed by the others in the room. ¡°It is my honour to receive you in this humble village.¡±


    ¡°And it is my pleasure to have travelled here, I must say it is long overdue for a member of the royal family to come and visit this side of Tairia.¡± King Ior spoke softly. ¡°I hope I do not offend you when I say I cannot stay long.¡±


    ¡°We are grateful for any moments with you, my king.¡±


    King Ior and three other men sat in front of Lyath and his family, four royal guards behind them.


    ¡°What is your name child?¡± The king smiled softly at the boy.


    ¡°Lyath.¡±


    ¡°Nice to meet you Lyath. I would like to make this as quick as I can, for us to avoid any misunderstandings.¡±


    The boy quickly looked towards his family, first to his right on Gadia, who could not stop staring at the fine jewels of the royal, then his father, who looked the most nervous out of anyone in the room, then his mother who smiled towards him, and finally at Tagra, who now stood behind the king, eerily watching him.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.¡°I have the blood of the King Othid, the first king of Tairia and the one who has granted me the dormant blood of gods.¡±


    ¡°And what a fine king he was.¡± Tagra whispered.


    ¡°If I mix some of your blood with mine, I should be able to see the god that is with you. Do you understand?¡± The king asked.


    Lyath could only nod. It felt like his tongue has swollen, and was unable to move.


    ¡°Is your god with you right now?¡± The king pressed further.


    ¡°Yes, Tagra is with us.¡± Lyath mumbled.


    It was strange for the goddesses name to come out of his lips. No one ever asked in the past few years, which god might be with him. It also did not feel right to discuss the topics Tagra spoke with him, to the family, they would not understand. Lyath always thought there was no reason to worry his parents more, his mother already had grey hairs most likely because of the stress.


    King Ior reached out his hand to Lyath. With a second of hesitation the boy joined the royal. One of the other men at the table pulled out a knife, slicing both the king and Lyath on their hands, then pressing the two palms together.


    With a few deep breaths and a worried sigh from the king, he looked around the room, searching for the goddess. Tagra did not move away, the royal tried not to jump at the sudden proximity or the disturbing look of the goddess, but he could not suppress the shudder.


    ¡°Do not disappoint me, Ior Marlon, from the line of Davon, or your despair shall be immeasurable.¡± Tagra disappeared into thin air with the last of those words.


    The king bowed deeply to where the goddess just stood, his lips moved but no words came out.


    A few hours passed before everyone emerged from the village hall.


    It was officially announced Tagra the goddess of shadows, blessed the boy. The royal and his council negotiated with the family, and village leader for the next steps. Neither side was willing to back down, until Lyath himself came up with a satisfying conclusion.


    He would spend the next two years in Azmar, continuing his studies with a scholar provided by the king, and combat with one of the royal guards. After that point, Lyath will move to Kroln, to enrol into Lariara the royal institute of military. After he is done with the studies, Lyath will be able to join the higher ranks in the army.


    Now he only had two more years with his family.


    After the king left, everything changed in the village.


    For the whole two years no one really spoke to Lyath. They all treated him as the royalty, someone to look at from afar, but not interact with directly. No one wanted his help, no one wanted anything from him. And it hurt Lyath deeply. Overnight he became and outcast in his own village.


    His family was loving and support as always, mostly acted as if the king never arrived and placed a time limit on their time together. Yet, the differences could not be ignored.


    Every morning, Lyath got up before dawn to start his combat practice with the royal guard Mevias. At first the lessons were challenging, mostly due to the difference in size, but once Lyath learned the fighting style used, he was able to beat the guard. In the afternoon, the lessons with the scholar, Kar. Those classes were more discussions between them, Kar was interested in the vast knowledge Lyath already had, and with permission from Tagra, he would share some of the lost stories of the world. The scholar in return would tell him of the new ways and methods of people, of the different cultures and believes. To those classes even Tagra would listen along.


    The days passed quickly, eventually turning into months, then a year, then two.


    Now Lyath was eleven and heartbroken to be leaving home. Even though he did not belong, he would miss his father and mother. Gadia was his only friend during this time, she was his sister and best friend, it broke Lyath¡¯s heart not to be able to be there for her anymore, to see her grow up into the kind person she was.


    A general stepped out of a wagon, and greeted the whole family one by one. When it came to Lyath, he smiled at him and exchange pleasantries. The both of them sat down in the wagon and started their journey to Kroln.


    The journey was long and uneventful. Even Tagra disappeared somewhere, claiming she could not stand the sight of any more trees.


    But it was that boredom that made the arrival even more breathtaking.


    The capital was nothing like Lyath has ever seen. The buildings were made of stone instead of wood, trees and nature filled every space between the buildings or roads. A river split parts of the city, the water appeared to illuminate the sunlight, making the whole city brighter and warmer. If only Lyath could paint, he would capture this moment and send it to his family.


    Upon arrival, the general lead straight to the institute. Introduced multiple teachers, house staff and carers, then finally went to the room Lyath would stay in. It was another moment of awe. At the back of the room was a huge window with a view of the palace, and the river, the bed was bigger then necessary with dark green silks on top, a large wooden desk was placed in a corner with shelves next to it, and wardrobes filled with the institutes uniform. As if that was not enough, there was another door that led to a large bathroom, with the biggest bathtub Lyath has ever seen.


    He could not help, but question, if the simple reason of him being born with a goddess by his side made Lyath worth of all of this luxury.


    With a closer look at his new possessions, and the detailed class plan that was left on the desk, there was nothing else to do, but rest, before the start of his new life.


    The next morning, Lyath got ready. He ate the breakfast left in front of the door, and put the uniform that hung in the wardrobe. It was simple and comfortable, black leather pants, and a black tunic with a golden embroidered emblem of Tairia, elegant, cursive lines that formed a tree.


    Tagra crept behind him, only once he started walking outside, on the way to the institute. Lyath considered talking to her about the room, but the people around him would not understand he is talking to a goddess, so he smiled and kept walking.


    ¡°Who are you talking to?¡± A quiet voice emerged behind him, causing him to turn around.


    ¡°A goddess.¡± The moment the words left his lips Lyath felt like an idiot, and the look the boy has given him just confirmed those suspicions.


    The years of isolation in the village played a part in Lyath¡¯s obvious lack of social skills and the interaction quickly turned awkward. Even Tagra couldn¡¯t stand to watch as she slipped off into the shadows.


    ¡°My name is Rylan.¡± The boy said as he extended his hand forward. ¡°I¡¯m guessing you¡¯re new. Do you know your way to class?¡±


    ¡°They showed me the day before.¡± Lyath explained. He straightened his body to appear more confident then he was feeling inside, but he had to take a chance. ¡°But I would love the company.¡±


    No one knew if this Rylan pitied the newcomer or if he genuinely wanted to become friends with him, but either way he showed him to class that day and soon enough nothing mattered as they became inseparable.


    For the first few months it was still slightly awkward between the boys, but Rylan did not leave his side. They spoke daily on the way to and back from class since as they discovered their rooms where a few doors down from each other. During those moments Lyath learnt that Rylan was a son of a lesser lord in a city called Aikhin that was bordering the kingdom of Koragon. For the safety of his son, the lord sent him to finish his education here, which only bonded the boys closer together since their circumstances were not too vast apart.


    Those months turned into a year and that was the time Lyath finally felt confident enough to explain the full circumstances of the move to his friend. He told him of Tagra, the powers she gives him, the stories she shares and how thanks to her he hasn¡¯t felt too alone all this time.


    Understandably, Rylan was sceptical at first but once he saw the powers himself that feeling turned into fear. They were still 12 after all and powers like this were most common found in books or stories to scare children. Lyath thought he has lost his the first friend he made, but after a few days, soft knocks sounded on his door with an apologetic Rylan before him.


    He explained he needed to process it. It was not everyday one would meet a gods chosen, but a friend was a friend and Rylan wasn¡¯t about to leave.


    At the two year mark Lyath began to feel more comfortable around people that actually treated him like a normal human being and his comfort grew with using his powers. Tagra taught him everyday and he felt it simmering under his skin, waiting for his call. The darkness that followed no longer bothered him, now it felt comforting.


    Sometimes he wondered if that made him odd. To find darkness a place he felt at home, but it¡¯s not something anyone knew. Lyath practised his magic everyday and eventually Rylan wanted to get more involved in it, wanting to see what a touch of that magic would feel like.


    So one day when the boys were walking to class, Lyath wanted to indulged those thoughts. He¡¯s never used his magic on anyone else, didn¡¯t know the extent he could go or if it would feel as peaceful as it did for him. But since it was Rylan that was asking he felt comfortable to try.


    ¡°What would you like to see?¡± Lyath voiced echoed down the hall they walked, they were only few corridors away from their class.


    ¡°Could you hide me away?¡± Rylan sounded so excited it was hard to say no.


    With a deep breath Lyath focused on that pool of power he felt and as he usually would cover himself, he imagined the shadows crawling to his friend. Within seconds he was gone, completely covered in that darkness.


    But something didn¡¯t feel quite right, at first Lyath could feel Rylan clearly, he felt his every breath and heartbeat and that disappeared. There was nothing. Shadows dispersed in moments just for his friend to fall to the ground with a loud thud.


    Lyath¡¯s cries filled every corner of the hall as he held the limp body of his friend. As he desperately tried to shake him awake, hoping and praying that he would wake up. Refusing to admit that the longer he waited the colder Rylan¡¯s body became.


    ¡°Please tell me there is something I can do.¡± Lyath¡¯s voice was pleading as he found the shadow goddess facing him.


    Tagra gently shook her head and the agony in his chest became unbearable. He did this. It was his powers, those dark forsaken powers that he just learnt to live with that caused this.  And now he will never be able to experience the darkness without seeing the death of his friend.

 Chapter One

    Rylla never thought she would die this way. With a stranger''s hands around her throat, holding her down in the river. Squeezing harder and harder with each passing second.


    Originally, this spot was her safe place, somewhere Rylla could run away from the chaotic whore house she called her home, from her parents that made it their hobby to make her life as miserable as possible, and all those terrible memories that came from that place. This little spot by the river was a break from it all.


    Now it was ruined by the two laughing men, and the attacker that was on top of her.


    This was Rylla¡¯s end.


    The struggle rippled the water, blurring the faces of all the men, all that was visible was the dark wavy hair and cold blue eyes of the attacker. Eyes that were filled with hatred, not necessary towards her, but rather towards everything that surrounded them.


    The thought of giving up crossed Rylla¡¯s mind, the man was much stronger than her, and it¡¯s not like the thought of ending her life didn¡¯t cross her mind before. But, now, all Rylla could do was fight for her worthless existence. She kicked out, tried to punch and scratch, but nothing. All it did was waste what little air she had left.


    In her final moments, Rylla couldn¡¯t help but wish that her life was something more. Not exactly sure in what sense, but she wanted to achieve something. Maybe stand up to her parents? Or run away from Nolis and find somewhere else in the kingdom to live in, and start over? Rylla just wanted something she could be proud of.


    Eventually, the laughter of the men in the back got further away, the wavy brown hair became more blurred, and everything became darker.


    The attacker only took his hands off, when the body under him went limp. He waited a moment to make sure the woman was dead, that he truly just killed someone for the first time. All he could do was stare at the pale face of the girl, half covered by long chestnut hair and haunted brown eyes that still looked back at him.


    ¡°Aymer, we should go.¡± Wyll laughed, as he kicked the body.


    Kiall made comments about the struggle, but the word didn¡¯t quite reach Aymer. Everything was distant.


    He watched his body move away from the river and followed the others. In that moment nothing felt real. Aymer¡¯s body was no longer his own.


    Rylla, softly opened her eyes. There was nothing, but pitch black. There was no sound, no light, no objects in sight.


    Even with no light, she could see her body just fine. In disbelief, Rylla stared at her trembling hands. The last memory she had was of her dying, of being drowned in that river.


    If King Mayas was right, all citizens of Koragon would be granted eternal peace in the afterlife. But such empty darkness, screamed anything but peace. And she never particularly believed the nonsense of the greedy king.


    Slowly, Rylla started walking, but no matter how much time had passed, or how far she had gotten, the surroundings did not change.


    During this time all she could do was think, and reflect on the life she had. Not like there was much to reflect on, Rylla was only nineteen afterall.


    Eventually her parents would notice the lack of their servant, when the customers would complain about the rooms not being clean. Might take a day or two. It would be more likely a random person would stumble upon her body. There were no friends that would notice her absence. The last person Rylla was close to, was killed by a customer in the whore house. Officials stated there was no crime and the love making just got ¡°out of hand¡±. That¡¯s not what Rylla saw. Tamra started to push away, when her face started turning purple. However, the fat man was one of the officials, a rich lord was worth a lot more than even the best whore in the kingdom. The worst part was the fact that Tamra died only a week before their planned escape.


    They were gonna leave, but now both of them were dead.


    ¡°Hello, dear child.¡± A deep voice echoed through the darkness, causing a shiver up Rylla¡¯s spine.


    An odd creature slowly crept towards her, at first all Rylla just felt uneasy, but the closer it got, the more her whole body begged Rylla to run in the opposite direction.


    It was at least seven feet tall, the head was of a large dead animal, with horns made of bone on both sides, the right one was at its full length, branching out in multiple directions, but the left was broken in half. It wore a long black robe covering the large body underneath, only exposing its pale white, bony hands.


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.A terrified sob escaped Rylla¡¯s mouth as she began to run.


    ¡°Jokes on you, this is my realm.¡± The creature cackled in the distance.


    The ground beneath Rylla¡¯s leg began to resemble sand, and with each step she fell deeper into it. Until eventually only one of her arms and head was showing above ground. The monstrosity just sat crossed legged before her, amusement danced in its eyes.


    ¡°Your crying is rather annoying, I would rather you stop.¡±


    ¡°And I would rather you leave me alone!¡± Rylla screamed as loud as she could, hoping to scare the creature away.


    ¡°I was not the one who begged for a second chance, little human.¡±


    The realisation that this could have been Rylla¡¯s doing all along, made her speechless. She could have passed in peace, made her way towards eternal rest, but of course she had to whine about her life one last time, and summon this thing of nightmares.


    ¡°What are you?¡± Rylla managed to take a close look at the monstrosity. It had shining grey eyes, and the skull was covered with small scratches, the robe on it was worn, but the holes did not reveal anything beyond it.


    ¡°My name is Rhadon.¡± The thing smiled towards her. ¡°I am the god of death, and I answered your call.¡±


    ¡°King Mayas says there is only one god, the ruler of-¡±


    ¡°Your king is full of shit, like most of you pesky humans anyway.¡± Rhadon interrupted her before she could finish. ¡°I am not here to argue whether you believe my existence or not. You could consider yourself crazy for all I care, I am here to strike a deal, not ponder on higher power.¡±


    There was no telling what was real or not, if to trust this god or not. As much as Rylla was telling herself not to do it, having a god by her side would be a first. It might turn her life around. Even if it sounded stupid and nobody would believe her.


    ¡°What would be the deal?¡± Rylla stated, her breath still unsteady.


    ¡°I shall give you my blessing, grant you powers other humans could only ever dream of.¡±


    For a while the two just stared at each other. Whatever the god was thinking, was not easy to decipher. While Rylla¡¯s mind was racing at all the new possibilities. It was not power that she craved, but the freedom that came with it. Her whole life she has been used and abused, her mother even attempted to sell her numerous times. If there was even a possibility of power, there would be respect from others.


    ¡°What do you get out of it? I would imagine a god has better things to do than aid a random human.¡± Rylla questioned.


    That was the only thing that did not make sense. Gods did not go around handing out favours or more people would have believed in them, which only meant Rhadon was hiding something.


    ¡°Perhaps I am simply bored.¡± The god yawned.


    ¡°Now who¡¯s full of shit.¡±


    ¡°Careful girl.¡± Rhadon snapped. ¡°I can tolerate a lot, but I cut souls in half for less. My reasons for the deal do not matter. I shall bring you back from the dead and grant you powers, do what you want with them I do not care.¡± The god finally released Rylla from the ground, forcing her to stand next to him. ¡°The power does come with a price. If you do not pay it, you will no longer question if you have lost your mind, you will know it.¡±


    The god¡¯s vague words terrified her. If the deal was sealed the road ahead would be unknown, but if Rylla didn¡¯t, she would stay dead.


    ¡°I will accept your blessing.¡± Rylla whispered.


    ¡°Very well.¡±


    With a low chuckle, the god disappeared.


    In the next breath, Rylla was no longer surrounded by darkness. Once again she was back in the river. Water had flooded her lungs and soaked every inch of her body. Rylla could not stop the coughing fits, and her legs gave out the moment she stepped out of water.


    Stars have long since filled the sky, the only sound was the water and the soft melody of crickets. It has been hours since the incident.


    For a second Rylla questioned if it all had been a dream, but the thought was shattered when her eyes fell on the tall figure between the trees. The god of death just stood there and smiled.


    The next few hours were the only ones Rylla would allow herself to feel any self-pity. So she curled up into a ball and cried. Tomorrow there might be no time for such selfish acts. Tomorrow everything might change.


    But, for this one moment, she was the girl a stranger decided to murder in cold blood, and Rylla grieved her death.

 Chapter Two

    The pity party eventually had to come to an end. Rylla¡¯s eyes were swollen from how hard she cried and her body shook as a chill ran down her spine from the cold night air. She wanted to be alone right now, but the god, Rhadon, now sat in the same spot she last saw him, looking bored out of his mind. It seems he will come to regret his decision sooner than they both expected.


    Dirty patches covered Rylla¡¯s dress and she already knew a punishment would await her once her mother would see. Not that she should worry about the state of her dress when the god of death trailed behind her every step. At least he knew how to keep a respectable distance. Rylla¡¯s body cried from the aches as she walked, most likely present from being dead for a few hours.


    The piercing light of the city cut through the darkness of the forest as she slowly approached the entry gates. A set of guards was placed on either side of the large wooden doors that was currently wide open for it¡¯s citizens. The gates and the wall were run down just like the rest of the city. King Mayas never bothered to hide how little he cared about his subjects, so most people struggled to find a place to live or ways to feed their family. And that fact showed in every corner of the city.


    The further Rylla walked the more the stench hit her nose from either the garbage stacked on the side of the houses, or the people who never get a chance to wash away the filth that has gathered on them. The only people who had the luxury of not experiencing these problems where either the wealthy or the military. After all, King Mayas always had a strange obsession with war and conquering the Kingdom of Tairia. He couldn¡¯t have his military embarrass him by looking the way people in his empire did.


    It was a shame that parts of the capital looked the way they did. Nolis was located next to a large river which broke into smaller ones all around the city. If one so wanted to they could probably travel everywhere by boat. If you only added some trees to this place, it would stop being so dull.


    The whore house Rylla¡¯s family run was located between the rich and poor district so it was accessible to both. The run down wooden houses, if one could even call them that, slowly turned into elegant brick ones. Her home was bigger than the rest of the properties surrounding it, being three stories tall and much wider to accommodate the amount of women that lived there. It was made up of mostly brick but still had wooden pillars as part of it¡¯s structure, making it blend perfectly between the districts. It could still use a renovation or at least a deep cleaning, but her parents were too cheap to hire the people to do it.


    With a deep breath Rylla extends her hand and opens the run down wooden door. While the house didn¡¯t have that putrid smell like the streets did, the heavy scent of perfume assaulted her nose and made her feel nauseated. The real question was if the nausea was from the smell or the sickening feeling of knowing what¡¯s coming next.


    Rhadon, who was still closely behind her now walked forwards and looked around. It was hard to tell if the god was displeased or what he thought of this place or the people in it. Perhaps if his head was anything but a floating skull in darkness, it would make Rylla more at ease.


    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.From the sounds of it most of the rooms were occupied, not many ladies sat in the lounge and a woman called Avalon sat at the small desk with a list of rooms. She was still new there, picked up from the street by Fleya for her bright red hair and pine green eyes. Her start however has been disappointingly slow, so as punishment she¡¯s made to sit at the front of the house and keeping the rooms organised between appointments, only moving from the spot when requested by a customer.


    ¡°What did you do to your hair?¡± Avalon¡¯s panicked voiced sent a shiver down Rylla¡¯s spine and she quickly rushed over to the mirror at the end of the hall.


    Instead of the usual chestnut hair that Rylla loved, there was now a large strands of white at the front of her head that she frantically grabbed and moved as if it would change back to it¡¯s natural colour.


    Seeing her panicked expression Rhadon chuckled and shrugged his shoulders when their eyes met. ¡°You had to be marked marked by death, foolish child. Or did you think you died and there would be no signs of it on you?¡±


    Rylla took a deep breath and faced Avalon again, trying to ignore the god as much as possible. ¡°And what of my parents?¡±


    ¡°They are¡­ Upset. They were expecting you earlier, to help set up before night hours.¡± Avalon¡¯s tone was full of pity, something Rylla truly hated. ¡°Prepare yourself.¡±


    ¡°The hair is not going to help either.¡± She couldn¡¯t help the panicked that leaked into her voice, but she was grateful for the warning.


    The stairs seemed daunting as she began her way up. Her heart pounded as she made her way to the first floor then the second. Until the moment her mothers eyes burned into her with furry.


    Fleya Insallor wasn¡¯t known as a kind woman. Not to her husband, workers and especially not to her daughter who failed every expectation that was set. So she didn¡¯t waste time as she strode towards her.


    ¡°You insolent fool.¡± Fleya¡¯s voice sounds through the entire second floor as she slapped her daughter. Rylla didn¡¯t have time to react to the assault as she went tumbling into the wall. ¡°Do you still not know your place? Your role in this house?¡± This time instead of a slap, a hard kick landed on Rylla¡¯s stomach making her grunt.


    Just like every other time this happened, she tried to pay attention to something else, most of the time it would be people that watched or customers that were there for the first time, but in those rare moments she felt brave she hoped that one day this would be over and there wouldn''t be another beating.


    Blood trickled down her mouth and Rylla¡¯s vision slowly became blurry, but she couldn¡¯t escape the disappointed look from the god of death.


    ¡°Are you truly this pathetic?¡± He walked closer to her, sat right next to her face so all she could see was him. ¡°I¡¯ve given you this power. Use it.¡±


    But before she could everything went dark.