5. A Goddess Without a Title

The Past

"Rumors floated around the palace the day of Naia's birth nine years ago. The High Goddess of the Sea refused to hold her first born as it cried fresh from her womb. Take her away and feed her." Via mimicked a wave of dismissal Naia's mother supposedly gave. "Lady Mira came to visit her once a week, and to this day, has never held her daughter. Lady Naia was raised by her father."

Pushing the soles of her feet into the floor of the kitchen, Naia pressed her spine against the wall as fat tears welled in her eyes, regretting her decision to sneak into the kitchen and ask Via for one of her heavenly sea berry pastries.

The other servant, one Naia did not have any recollection of ever seeing before, peeled husks off shrimp in a bucket of water on the wooden counter. "Poor Lady Naia. What did she do to deserve such coldness?"

"Lady Naia was born without a title."Via's voice stiffened with judgment.

The sound of shrimp husks crinkling in between fingers paused. "Is that truly so terrible?"

"Bite your tongue, you foolish girl! It's an abomination! Lady Naia is the daughter of two High Deities."

Naia flinched.

They lie. Mother loves me all the same, with or without a title.

She rushed out of the kitchen. The knots in her stomach had devoured her appetite.

It was later during their dinner feast, propped in her father's lap beside her mother, when the unsettling conversation between the two servants haunted Naia's thoughts.

Not once had she ever sat in her mother's lap, much less held her hand.

Naia looked between her parents, recognizing their stark differences.

Scattered through Father's black hair were small white flowers he referred to as baby's breath, and cheeks scruffy with a beard Naia enjoyed brushing her forehead against. He was consistently draped in deep, jeweled tone cloaks, and wearing soft smiles and gentle looks.

Mother was blank expressions; mute and observant, like a hawk emitting a daunting aura that instilled a timidness when approaching her. Eyes the color of chalk, never able to fully grasp which way her pupils were directed.

Naia climbed down from her father's lap, determined to prove those servants wrong.

Relatives of her mother filled the vaulted great hall. A long line of cousins and uncles and aunts. Names forgotten, unless they possessed an unforgettable trait—like her Aunt Davina who had eyes the color of sea glass, or her Uncle Enyo's tentacles for a beard—a result of his shapeshifting form, having spent most of his time as a creature of the sea.

"Mother," Naia said.

Her mother sat poised with her hands resting on the arms of her gold wingback chair, indifferent to Naia's voice.

On the table in front of Mother was a goblet of wine, nothing else. In Naia's nine years, she'd never witnessed her eat food.

Naia admired her mother's long, silver strands braided elegantly down one shoulder, adorned with golden jewels. Tucked behind her ear was a blush-pink carnation.

Nearly once a day, Father held out his enclosed palm to Naia. With childlike anticipation, she'd watch as he spread his hand to reveal a blossomed dahlia—mahogany red, full of thin, sharply silk blossomed petals. It pulled a smile out of Naia every time he stuck the beauty behind her ear.

Naia reached for the flower in Mother's hair. "Your carnation is beautiful, Mother. Did Father grow it for you?"

Her icy gaze snapped to Naia.

Naia winced, and her hand froze mid-air.

Refused to hold her child.

She sank her arm back down to her side, averting her eyes from her mother's intense glare. "I apologize."

Mother resumed peering throughout the room as if her face was made of stone.

"I did grow it for her." Father leaned over and playfully nipped at Naia's ear to coax a giggle out of her.It did not lift the frown plaguing her lips.

Naia itched the tickle her father's fingers left on her earlobe, unable to pull her gaze away from her mother. She sat stoically, peering out across the hall, and every so often, her pale eyes flickered from one side of the room.

Naia was captivated by the shimmering chrysocolla pendant on her chest. The flickering candlelight of the chandeliers reflected off its gemstone. The color was of the shallowest waters, a divine drop of the sea.It was stunning, and Naia longed to ask about it. Where did you get it, Mother? It compliments your complexion and eyes. I hope to be as beautiful as you are when I grow older.

Naia was reluctant to voice such things, though, knowing it would result in another harsh look and vacant response.

The craving for her mother's affection began as a pinprick, only to swell into an ache. Naia hadn't known what to call such yearning until overhearing Via's story.

It was an ugly truth.

Naia did not have her mother's love, but what would it take to win it?

Evening fell upon Kaimana.Those who lived in the village were closing their shops. In the sky, the tide was but of a soft whisper as rays of the sunset bled through the transparent quilt of the sea.

Naia held her father's hand as he escorted her through the garden, filled with bright, blithe colors. The fragrance of orchids wafted in the air as they strolled through the blossoms. Twilight cast silhouettes over the palms, shadows of their spiked heads splaying across the sand.

Naia watched in fascination as the hibiscus and passion fruit flowers closed as they passed by.

She peeked up at her father. Did he close the flowers, or did they close because of the fading sunlight?

Her father glanced down at her, one of his thick brows raised. "What is it, darling?"

They slowly made their way across the bridge over the River of Souls. "Did you put the flowers to sleep?"

Her father's mouth twitched as he looked onward. The amusement slowly fell from his face by whatever he saw.

Naia followed his gaze to the crowd materializing within the courtyard and piling through the entrance of the palace. Divine figures draped in luxurious robes of the finest silks and satins. Naia had never seen so many deities in her mother's kingdom.

Her father scooped her up and materialized them into the throne room.

When Naia's eyes came into focus, they sat on her father's throne alongside Mother. Gods and goddesses lined the outer edges of the room, while five immaculate figures stood in the center.

The Council—each member a High Deity and the first in existence of their lineage; the only five High Deities who had carried their titles for well over five thousand years. No other had ever bested them.

"Father, why is the Council here?" Naia whispered.

"Your mother is being challenged for her title as High Goddess of the Sea," he explained. "The Council is required to be present when a middle deity challenges a High Deity for their title."

Naia squeezed her tiny fists in her lap in response to the quickening pace of her heart. "How long has Mother held her title as High Goddess of the Sea?"

"Oh, my darling, there is nothing to worry about. Your mother has held her title for well over three-thousand years."

The scales of a deity's power were determined by the multitude of abilities and worshipers one possessed. Mortals worshiped her mother across the Mortal Land, but her primary source of prayers came from Nohealani Island—an island the High Goddess supposedly founded. After her imprisonment beneath the sea, she built Kaimana and turned it into an empire. Whoever challenged her did not stand a chance.

Mother descended the dais, her heels clicking along the moonstone crystal stairs. "What brings the Council to Kaimana?" A playful coyness laced her tone.

"Mira, High Goddess of the Sea," The High Goddess of Life and Balance addressed formally, "you are being challenged by Koen, a middle god of the sea, for your title."

The High Goddess presented herself in layers of pastel robes with her dark hair parted down the middle, framing a face gleaming in a bright white orb. The goddess never revealed her identity to others. While most scorned her for her mystique, the goddesses' soft-spoken nature intrigued Naia.

Behind the Council stood another figure, but when Naia tried to crane her neck to see, her father lightly pinched at the top of her thigh to get her attention.

She looked back at him, and he shook his head, silently gesturing for her to be on her best behavior.

Obeying, she sank her back against his chest.

"I accept Koen's challenge."A disturbing excitement bled through her mother's tone as she spoke.

"Very well." The High Goddess of the Sun bowed her head in regards. "Then, shall we begin?"

Naia marveled at the contrast of her vibrant ginger hair against the black ruffles of her sleeves. The slit in her gown exposed her long, slender legs. Naia ran her gaze up the High Goddesses' mature physique to her fair skin speckled with freckles.

"Whoever shall win this duel will go forth with the title of High Ruler of the Sea," the High God of Chaos and Ruin said, a full-bodied voice, canorous to the ear. "Whoever loses must accept their fate."

He wore a terrifying mask made of the skull of a fox and the elongated horns of a deer, leaving nothing but his golden tourmaline gaze visible through two holes. It swept across the hall and passed over Naia.

Goosebumps fleshed her skin as she stared at the High God. Even though she could not see his face, nor the complexion of his light skin underneath his cloak, his long strands resting on his shoulders were the same pale blond as his brother's—the High God of Death and Curses.

"I accept the terms," Mother said.

"Koen, step forward." The High Goddess of Fate raised an arm and gestured for the god to make his way to the room's center.

Naia blushed as she took in the sight of the High Goddesses' lavender dress, the material transparent, displaying every inch of her skin and emphasizing the curvature of her hourglass figure and round hips beneath. She carried herself like a floating piece of silk as she moved back into the line of the Council.

Koen sauntered out from behind the Council. Broad shouldered and built like a great white shark. His expression was serene as he took in Mother. He did not seem afraid.

He bowed. "I am Koen, son of a middle god of the sea and the High Goddess of Peace, and today, I will become the High God of the Sea."

Naia had heard of him through the gossip at feasts. He'd won the heart of mortals by voyaging alongside them and slaying sea beasts when they threatened to swallow their ships. As his name spread across the Mortal Land, his power grew exponentially.

In response to Koen, Mother's hand rose slightly above her waist. Naia caught a small twinkle in her eyes as her infamous sea whip formed like a snake's body from her palm. Made of water, slender and long, like the tail of a dragon grazing the floor. Jagged spikes tore from the surface of its body, ashen white and large, as if she had plucked them out of the mouths of sea monsters with herown bare hands.

Each member of the Council turned their heads to the remaining member at the end of the line, who had yet to speak.

He wore a matching black cloak as his brother, hood drawn so Naia couldn't make out his face. Though, amid the shadow it provided, his eyes burned like two gold-plated disks.

"You may proceed." As the last of Cassian's words left his mouth, the Council vanished in a whirl of vaporous tendrils.

The loud hissing of her mother's whip punctuated the commotion, causing Naia to startle in her father's arms.

Every lash of Mother's whip had her flinching.

Koen deflected each attack with agile speed. A gust of air rushed forth from his lips, forming a massive bubble to sail through the room. As he danced around Mother's strikes, the swelling masses of water aimed directly at the goddess slammed down upon her. The clashes rumbled and shook the walls.

Her mother's intense wave of power flooded the room, weighing down the air with a thick mist. Naia dug her fingers into her father's sleeve.

With each fluid movement, Mother's whip burst Koen's bubbles, the sound an echoing thunderclap. The water from them splashed across the floor.

At last, the tail end of her mother's whip coiled around Koen's arm.

The spikes snarled into his flesh, and he screamed.

Naia felt her father tense beneath her.

His palm moved up to shield Naia's eyes. "Darling, do not watch this part."

Naia's pulse flickered, her vision going dark. "Why?"

Her father's response was silent as a reverberating crunch followed by an ear-curdling shriek split from Koen.

Naia's hands came up to her ears, her heart hammering in her chest.

She should've listened to her father's advice, but she could not help herself. Through the space between his index and middle finger, she gaped in horror as Mother relentlessly struck the god.

Koen fell to his knees. Scarlet blotches stained his beige tunic. Tatters decorated his arms like the stripes of a zebra. Blood soaked across the lucid crystal floor, like bursting pomegranate arils. Those watching in the front row stepped back to keep from sullying their shoes.

A disturbing crack resounded, and Naia pulled her father's fingers down to her nose.

The sharp scent of copper filled the room.

Koen's head landed on the stairs of the dais.

A tingling sensation swept up Naia's arms and into her cheeks, the blood drained from her face. The room spun. She buried her forefingers into her father's arm ever tighter, her chest heaving at the sight of Koen's face pointed towards the ceiling, his eyes wide open and expression morphed into one of extreme pain.

Naia's teeth chattered. Tears burned her eyes. She wiped them away as quickly as they rolled down her cheeks, knowing her mother would find the act of crying during her triumph shameful.

"It is okay, darling." Her father lightly rubbed the small of her back. Droplets of her tears spilled down his knuckles. "Koen is not dead. We cannot die so easily."

"The blood, Father…" Naia croaked. "It is everywhere."

The suffering Koen endured did not sit well with Naia. Even if death did not await him, the feeling of his head unattached from his body must've been excruciating.

Naia considered getting up and helping Koen somehow but was unconfident in her ability to walk without fainting from the sight of his blood. There were also consequences to consider. If Naia were to lend Koen a hand, it would appear as an act of disrespect for Mother's victory.

As if her father could sense her internal battle, he slowly lifted from his throne and placed Naia on her feet.

"I will assist Koen. Go congratulate your mother."He gave Naia's shoulder a small reassuring squeeze before brushing past her.

His tall, solid figure moved languidly down the stairs. The motion sent the end of his deep green cloak rippling behind him, and in his wake, the deep-red puddles on the moonstone miraculously evaporated.

He picked up Koen's head, cradling it with one hand on his chin and the other at the back of his skull, and materialized across the room beside his body.

An invisible weight lifted from Naia, grateful for her father, as he seemed to be the only god in the vicinity to do such a considerable act.

All the others scrutinized Koen with judgment cast upon their brows. The room filled with low chatter as they spoke amongst themselves. Naia did not wish to hear what ill words they were saying towards the middle god for his loss.

Naia sought her mother through the mingling deities.

Now is my chance.

She threw her arms out wide, fully intending to hug her mother's waist. "Mother, your victory makes me pro?—"

She caught Naia by the wrist, her grip like an iron shackle.

Naia whimpered.

Her mother's attention flashed down to her. "Do you wish to make me as proud as I have made you today?"

Naia's throat tightened as Mother's eyes bored into hers, awaiting a response. "Y-yes."

"A title makes a powerful goddess." Mother said. "For all mortals to worship, for all deities to fear. Until you find yours, you shall not have my pride."

Naia's mouth went dry, her lips parted with no words.

A harmonious cackle came from behind Naia, and she turned her head.

"Ambitious as ever, Lady Mira."

The High Goddess of Fate stood with her arms crossed, hip jutted out, and a curve to her lips implying amusement.

"Ambition is the root of all power." Naia's mother released her and angled her body towards the goddess. "Wouldn't you agree, Lady Ruelle?"

"I would have to disagree. After all, look where ambition has gotten an esteemed High Goddess as yourself."

The air stiffened.

Her deadly stare held on Ruelle for what felt like an eternity.

"We shall see." It left her mother's mouth as everything did, emotionless. Though, a slight tension coiled in her voice as she whirled around and stalked away.

Naia felt inexplicably small, the size of an ant left behind in her mother's footsteps. Disappointment for herself and the way she was made sank deep into her bones.

A title would be the thing to win Mother's love, and whileNaia might've been young, she saw the errors in her mother's request. Title or not, it was not a prerequisite to her father's love.

"Do not fret, Lady Naia. There is a divine fate that awaits you." The High Goddess of Fate gave Naia a wink in parting before disappearing into a pearly white cloud.

Naia had little time to process Ruelle's words before Cassian approached her. It appeared he looked right at her, but she glanced over her shoulder, convinced his attention had to be set on another.The contact of his powerful gaze made her skin itch.

When she saw nobody acknowledging him from behind her, she swallowed. Cassian's presence was what Naia imagined stepping inside a vortex to be.

Recalling the protocol taught to her by her father, she bowed her head. "Hello, Lord Cassian."

"Lady Naia, you seem afraid of me." His voice was like a rumble of low thunder.

She kept her eyes downcast on the floor, the hair on the back of her neck rising from her name exiting his lips.

"You are the High God of Death and Curses," she said, as if that alone was enough reason.

Her first memory of the High God was in her fourth year. He had appeared in her mother's great hall in the middle of a feast unannounced. Before anyone could spot him, he planted his palm on her Uncle Xerxes's chest.

Her uncle's blood-curdling cry shook the hall, silencing the voices like the cut of a string.

Cassian left her uncle writhing on the floor. Within months, Mother was forced to confine him to the prison below the palace. The curse had burrowed deep within his mind, causing hallucinations and chaos in the palace, driving him into madness.

It was called the Kiss of Delirium.

Naia never asked what her uncle did to deserve such punishment, but after the encounter, Naia avoided any topic of Cassian.

The god's mouth curved slightly, as if he found something about Naia's straightforwardness entertaining. "Which frightens you more, if you don't mind me asking?Curses or death?"

When Naia thought about it, she believed she could beat any curse with her mental fortitude. Death, however, would separate her from her father.

"Death," she murmured, clasping her fingers anxiously in front of her stomach.

"I'll let you in on a secret." Cassian leaned in closer to her. Curiosity persuaded Naia to, as well. "Death is not as scary as it seems."

"I imagineit must be thrilling to meet your new sibling, Lady Naia," said Gianna, Naia's assigned servant, as she led Naia to Mother's bedchamber.

Naia's feet sped up in giddy anticipation. "Of course, I am. I will no longer be lonely when my father is busy."

It had been a year since Koen challenged her mother.

A year of tedious lessons on the training grounds, and Naia still had nothing to show for it. She tried not to think too hard about it, as her father consistently assured her it could take certain deities time for their powers to manifest.

Naia burst through Mother's bedchamber and came to an immediate stop.

Gianna bumped into her and apologized quickly.

Naia wanted to respond to the servant, to step further into the room, but her legs quivered with a prickling sensation.

Her father stood across the room directly in front of her mother's bed, stature stiff.

He acknowledged Naia with a gentle smile, one that did not meet his eyes."Naia, darling, did you sleep well?"

The morning sunlight swept over him through the window. His dark hair had wilted small wildflowers throughout. Dull, rotted stems dangling in a sea of shiny, black strands. It was when she realized the blossoms reflected his mood.

Naia's eyes searched for the baby.

The bassinet at the bedside was empty.

Sitting up in the bed, Mother cradled the newborn in her arms.

The scene was exquisite—her mother in dark blue satin bedclothes, her hair loose and flowing like metallic waves down her shoulders, expression soft as she spoke tenderly to the child in her arms.

Something pinched in Naia's chest.

The High Goddess of the Sea refused to hold her own first born as it cried fresh from her womb.

"Naia, are you ready to meet your new sister?" Naia's father scooped her up and walked her over to the bedside with a clean view of her new sibling. "This is Marina."

The moment the last syllable of her sister's name left his mouth—a name with a close similarity to their mother's—a darkness dropped like morsels throughout the room. They bled into a black fog, inhaling the sunlight.

Naia clung to the collar of her father's robe, frightened.

"She is a goddess of night."The words spoken from Mira were with a spine-chilling pride, affirming the distance between her and Naia that Via had spoken of a year ago unquestionably existed.

A distance Naia could not see until then.