6. The Mages

Aquamarine gemstones and satin ribbon adorned the throne room. Guards stood along the entrance of the drapery lined across the marble floor.The room was incredibly quiet, amplifying the sound of even the slightest boot scuffle.

Mira sat on her throne with Naia at her side. Atop the High Goddesses' head was a radiant, golden crown, tame in size, but the edges as sharp as the end of a shark's teeth. A turquoise jewel hung in the center of her forehead.

Naia kept her hands twisted behind her back, a welcoming smile on her lips.

As the eldest at thirteen, she had duties to uphold. Welcoming guests into the kingdom was one of them. While she had little interest in knowing which god was about to enter, she was ecstatic to make conversation with someone other than her father.

The amethyst crystal doors yawned open, and a boy, who appeared to be the same age as Naia, paraded by three guards entered.He strode in with an infuriating confidence Naia lacked, stopped at the edge of the dais, and bowed his head.

"Lady Mira, it is a pleasure to be in the presence of you and your daughter." His accent was thick and pleasing to the ear.

"Welcome to Kaimana, Lord Solaris," Mira said.

A young lord.

Naia studied the boy before her, curious now. His skin was the color of brandy beneath his leather tunic, and despite his age, lean muscle defined his arms.

As if the god could sense her scrutinizing, his gaze came up to meet hers. It softened and his lips tilted into a friendly smile.

"This is Naia."Mira introduced without a gesturing motion.

Solaris slightly bowed in Naia's direction. "Pleased to meet you."

She dipped her chin in response. "You as well, Lord Solaris."

"You two will wed on your eight-hundredth year," Mira announced.

Naia's eyes widened. "Why?" It blurted out of her mouth before she could stop it.

Mira's head rotated towards her, eyes slitting into daggers. "You dare question me?"

"Mother, I-I was?—"

"Yes, Lady Mira," Solaris intervened. "We understand."

The muscles in Naia's neck clenched, and she turned her head away from Mira.

"Delightful." Mira signaled to the guards standing like pillars around Solaris with a look. "Guide Lord Solaris and Naia to the gardens to get acquainted."

"Right away, Lady Mira."

The guards escortedthem to a table set up under a trumpet vine canopy. Naia found the floral fragrance of the garden and the trickling of the River of Souls nearby to be tranquil. A much-needed reprieve from being forced to stand near Mira.

Servants appeared with tea and cakes as Naia and Solaris took their seats.

Naia rubbed her forefinger and thumb together in the material of the linen napkin, watching Solaris drape his over his lap like a true gentleman.

Gianna, Naia's servant, filled their teacups. The lovely steam of the hibiscus tea wafted in the air.

"My appreciation," Solaris regarded Gianna with a smile. It was genuine and impressive, pulling out a bashful tint to the servant's cheeks. She bowed her head and backed away to leave.

Naia gauged the young lord closely. "Why are we to marry?" she asked.

What did Mira stand to gain from the arrangement?

"Our mothers want to strengthen the union between our families," Solaris explained.

Naia half-expected him not to know—like her.

She crammed a piece of strawberry cake into her mouth and replied, "Fhoo if you muver?"

Solaris laughed. "You know the way to capture a man's eye, love."

She swallowed her large mouthful. "You are my age, yes? Hardly a man when you are merely thirteen. And you did not answer my question."

He took a small sip of his tea as steam billowed from the porcelain. "Levina, High Goddess of Lightning."

Naia lowered her fork. "Of the Desdemona Volcano?"

"Yes."

She'd heard of the infamous Levina through the whispers of servants and guards—the High Goddess trapped within a volcano by none other than Cassian himself.

"The rumors are true then?" she asked.

Solaris took another sip of his tea. "How my mother is cursed and cannot step outside Desdemona Volcano?"

"Is she?"

He placed his teacup back on its saucer. "Yes. Precisely how yours cannot step outside of the sea."

Naia blanched. "My mother is not cursed."

Solaris's brow furrowed. "You do not know?"

Her blood ran cold. She sat her fork aside and straightened the edges of the cloth in her own lap as tremors ran through her fingers.

Naia's silence must've sufficed as a response, because Solaris shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

He cleared his throat. "I cannot believe nobody has ever told you the tale of our mothers."

She lifted her head, betrayal and anger clawing in her veins. "Then please enlighten me."

Even though they hardly knew one another, she was already jealous of Solaris's knowledge. Whatever relationship he had with his mother was not the same impassive one she had with hers.

"Lady Mira and my mother were long-standing enemies. Some say their hatred was born out of envy, though my mother is reluctant to confirm such. It led to fighting and chaos in the Mortal Realm, causing trouble for the deities.

"Sick of their relentless fighting, Lord Cassian punished them with a Curse of Eternity, sentencing Mira beneath the sea and my mother to Desdemona Volcano. With their freedom to scour the world revoked, they sent their closest allies out to search for a way to break their curse."

Naia's mouth went dry. "Did they?"she asked. Though, a part of her already knew the answer.

Solaris nodded. "Yes, by an oracle. They were to sacrifice their firstborn by forcing them to wed on their eight-hundredth birthdays. Only then, with the two families brought together in a union, would the curse break and grant both goddesses their freedom back." A sad line crinkled across his mouth. "A year later, we were born."

The pounding of her pulse throbbed in her skull. She tucked her hair behind her ear and rolled her lips, struggling to process how they existed solely to break a curse.

Worst of all, she despised how it suddenly made sense why Mira had always regarded Naia in a detached manner. Did she ever view me as her daughter, or simply a way to undo her curse?

Tears stung behind Naia's nose as she shook her head. "Why our eight-hundredth year?"

Solaris shrugged. "I suppose it is a part of the fine print of the curse."

Naia grimaced.

Eight centuries were lifespans away. Yet it felt like an avalanche heading her way.

"They gave us life," Solaris said, and she could tell it was his attempt to uplift the heavy mood stifling their picnic. "In the end, that is what matters."

Naia ground her teeth. "A life where we are to spend eternity shoved inside our mothers' pockets until our time to be useful arrives."

A frown weighed on Solaris's lips. "I apologize, Lady Naia. I should not have?—"

"No, thank you, Lord Solaris."

It was imperative he continued to be honest with her. Despite her disappointment, she'd rather be knowledgeable than ignorant.

Solaris reached across the table and took her hand. His touch was warm, as expected, of a middle god of fire."It is my honor, Lady Naia."

As they held each other's eyes, the loneliness lingering in Naia eased. Perhaps having a friend would bring her a splash of companionship she craved.

Naia took back her hand and continued eating her cake. "I appreciate your honesty, but it does not mean I have any intentions of being your wife."

The young lord rested back in his chair with a sly grin. "We shall see."

Naia's presencewas required at the training arena at sunrise each morning.

It was rumored by the servants and guards how the arena was built by Mira's hands alone in the early days of Kaimana.

If Naia were honest, she despised the amphitheater. It only brought violence.

During her Mira's annual challenge where she pitted middle deities against one another for fun, Naia would sit in her parents' box in the highest tier atop her father's lap, mortified by the devastation deities were capable of.

Naia's heels sank into the sand, and she peered around at the wide, open space around her. Empty, tranquil. There were no craters in the ground, vibrations growling beneath her feet, the shocking sounds of blunt chaos unfurling around her, the same as all the times she'd watched from above.

The next hour would be an arduous endeavor for her as she tried to summon a nonexistent power. Naia was in her nineteenth year and nothing had changed. As the years transcended, her teachers fluctuated like the seasons. Last week it had been a middle god of hunting. At least he had taught her how to punch.

She was curious to learn which type of deity her Mira had summoned this time.

To Naia's surprise, two figures stepped out into the arena, both hooded in dark robes.

Naia's pulse jumped. She braced her legs and scoped her surroundings.

The shimmer of Mira's pendant caught her eye. She sat in the highest box of the grounds alongside Naia's father.

Mira never oversaw her training. Why now?

Naia faced the two strangers. They stood without movement.

"I take it you two are my mentors for the day?" Naia addressed them.

"We are mages," the man on the right said in a gruff voice. "You are to defeat us."

The breath died in Naia's lungs.

Mages did not live in Kaimana. They were from the Mortal Land. Mira must've persuaded them with an offer they could not resist. Gold perhaps?

Keep your head down.

"First one down wins," the mage on the left spoke. She was a woman.

Without warning, the man raised his arm and a powerful force smashed into Naia's chest.

She flew back and her skull collided with the sand. Agony pulsed through her body, liquifying her organs, boiling her blood. Her limbs tensed from the currents of the mage's power. She writhed and cried out.

Mira will think even less of you because of this.

Naia clenched her spasming muscles to gain control of herself. Her teeth clattered as her body attempted to heal itself of whatever internal damage the mage's magic had inflicted.

Long, mortifying seconds passed.

The intense echoes of agony gradually dimmed, but she could not get a hold of her trembling limbs.

Sorcery.

She recalled past conversations she'd overheard from her aunts and uncles and how they despised mages. Though it was not animosity Naia heard in their voices, but fear. Now, Naia understood why.

Naia curled in on herself, her forehead digging into the sand. Granules worked their way through her lashes and into her eyes as she blinked through her burning tears.

Footfalls shuffled towards her.

Mira already perceives you as insignificant.

Naia sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth and threw her hands over her head, slamming her eyes shut.

Admit defeat and this will be over.

Those who fought with pride would not come at a weakling such as herself.

Naia's hunkered body shook against the earth's floor, dreadfully awaiting the next wave of pain.

A pain that did not come.

Naia lifted her head slowly. One mage hovered over her like a mountain, blocking the sun from her face.

"You are not worthy of being a goddess. You are weak." The woman spit on her.

The glob splattered across Naia's cheek and into her eye. She gasped.

"A goddesses' place is not on the soil, and yet, you make no move to stand up and fight me while I taunt you." The woman snorted and spun around. "You are useless."

Naia flinched, wiping the spit from her face with a shaky hand.

Useless.

A white bellied whale wading through the waters cast a shade across the arena, and the mage's robe swayed as she walked away. An impulse arose in Naia to make the mage choke on her words and prove her wrong.

But if Naia fought, what would the result be?

More pain. Suffering.

Naia's skin prickled, and it was as if the walls of the arena folded over her.

Being useless keeps you safe.

Marina's face emerged in Naia's line of sight. Long black locks of hair hung down like a satin curtain as she slightly bent over. "Go up to Mother and Father."

"Why?" Naia blinked. It was the first time her little sister had ever spoken to her, and it bridled her with an anxious excitement.

Mira forbade communication between them. Naia once asked her father why, but he responded with a soft smile and a buttery excuse on Mira's part.

Naia hadn't even noticed Marina enter the arena. Had she walked in or transported? The idea of her sister being able to transport filled Naia's head with more self-loathing thoughts. She is a child and can do more than I. The mage is right. I am useless, weak, and unworthy of my immortal blood.

"It is my turn,"Marina said in a monotone voice.

Her turn?

A life force blazed Naia back into focus and she sprang to a sitting position. "Absurd! You are merely ten years old."

Marina's expression was a barren desert, her irises two spooling lakes of black, as she stared down at Naia. "I will show them what it means to be a goddess. Now leave, or else I will take you down with them."

Marina's boldness pushed bile up Naia's throat, suffocating the glimpse of tender excitement Naia had felt seconds ago.

Such foolish arrogance.A trait inherited by Mira, no doubt. Naia could hardly stand it.

From what Naia had observed over the last ten years, Marina was a quiet child. Often described by others as moody with a permanent scowl. Her power overshadowed her unappealing characteristics. The servants quaked in fear, doing everything in their power to avoid provoking her. They had rumored she would extinguish the light in the room, and in the end, the servants would run out in tears.

Naia crawled to her feet and marched up the arena steps to her parents' box.

As she crossed the threshold of the stone, her words spewed out haughtily. "What are you thinking, sending a child down there?—"

The stinging cut of Mira's milky eyes tore Naia's courage to shreds.She halted in her tracks, regretting saying anything to attract Mira's scrutiny.

"My darling." Father spared a tender look in Naia's direction. "Your mother wishes to test your sister's strength, is all."

Naia studied the worry lines creasing his forehead. There was something he wasn't saying.

His gaze idled on her as a silent plea to stand down; to make herself invisible. She recognized it from the time she sat in his lap, overflowing with questions as the Council gathered in the throne room all those years ago.

Naia obeyed and stood by his side, farthest from Mira.

Gritting her teeth to swallow her argument, Naia peered out into the grounds.Marina seemed smaller from this distance—an infuriating reminder of how young she was.

The mages took their stance as they had with Naia. The one on the left raised his arm, and Naia winced, preparing herself for the worst. Marina's child frame flying across the dome, the dreadful sight of blood splattering like scarlet egg yolk against its stone walls.

Except Marina remained upright. Ribbons of black mist poured out from her palms, and darkness slowly consumed the arena. It smothered each sliver of light like a flame.

Naia watched in chilling fascination, and her eyes strained to see past the black veil. One mage shouted out. A powerful gust slammed against the walls, followed by a deafening screech.

And then everything went still.

Naia's heartbeat surged in her ears.

A horrendous gurgling noise echoed like a knife trapped in someone's throat.

Less than one minute and it was done.

The ebony fog receded, permitting the light to enter.

Naia slapped her palm over her mouth.

No.

The mages lay limp like broken insects drowning in puddles of their own blood.

Naia tore her eyes from their corpses to Mira, rising from her chair. She held her chin high, scaling Naia up and down, lip curling. Naia could practically hear her unspoken words. You are as useless of a daughter as you are a goddess.

Naia's chest caved in, restricting the breath in her lungs.

Mira said nothing else as she left the box.

Naia could feel her mother's animosity everywhere in her body, webbing between skin and bones. The pressure to be better, to become more powerful, to be more than what she was. Expectations Naia knew she could never meet. Her knees trembled. She reached out to grab the back of her father's chair.

He sat without movement, glaring down as the guards disposed of the corpses in the arena.

"Father?" Naia said in a barely audible voice. His silence was uncharacteristic of him.

He did not respond, and it was equally unlike him to ignore her.

She moved around his chair to get a look at his face. "Father, are you ok?—"

"Naia, darling." His voice was unnervingly still, quivering with a restrained fury she'd never heard.

Naia swallowed. "Yes, Father?"

His head rotated towards her, his emerald gaze dark like clouds smothering a forest. "Your mother's definition of strength is only because she, herself, is weak. Do you understand?"

Naia's face went pale with shock. Not once had her father ever spoken of Mira in such an ill manner.

She did not fully comprehend what he meant. Mira was a High Goddess the same as he was a High God. They were both stronger than she ever could be.

His brow softened. "You make me proud, regardless of your title. Do you understand?"

The pressure constricting in Naia's sternum snapped. Tears fled down her cheeks. "What am I if not yearning for her love, Father?"

Centuries of restlessness were all she had to look forward to. Only desolation awaited her.

Father's fingers wrapped around her arms and sucked her into an embrace. He smelled of petrichor and tree bark, of cinnamon and cloves.

"Why doesn't she love me?" Naia broke in his arms, sobbing into his velvet cloak.

"I love you for the both of us, my darling. Infinitely." He tucked a loose tendril of her silver hair behind her ear, holding her snug with his other hand on the back of her head. "Every life has meaning. Yours is no different, and it does not yield to your mother."