Liam realized he’d been staring at the geometric patterns on the ceiling for a good ten minutes before his brain kicked in. He tried to move and flinched as pain shot through his shoulder, forcing him back down to the pile of pillows. The pain was a surprise, especially when he could feel he didn’t have any broken bones.
Any thoughts regarding his health came to a stop when he sensed someone stir next to him. A dark figure that sat up, her brown curly hair shifting and bunched up in the most extreme case of bed-hair Liam had ever seen. The woman scratched her head, grumbling and looking around the room.
Aisha spotted his leg, frowned, and trailed it up until their gazes met.
Neither of them had any clothes on.
After a heartbeat, they both reacted at the same time, with Liam pulling one of the cushions over his crotch while Aisha did the same with her chest. Pain erupted from Liam’s shoulder and he winced, a pained sound that Aisha mimicked, clutching her stomach and collapsing back on the pillows.
“Are you alright?” They both spoke at the same time.
A tiny pause, and they shared a chuckle that turned into another pained sound.
“What happened?” Aisha was the first to broach the question. “Last I remember, we were trapped.”
“Ilana’s dead, I think.” Liam studiously kept his gaze on the silk-cushion nearest to his face. “I passed out trying to get the room to open sooner, you-”
“I was dying.” She muttered. “It seems I owe you not just an apology.”
“I got you involved in this.” He immediately answered, shaking his head. “I should’ve known better than-”
His voice faltered when Aisha’s slim fingers grasped his hand. Her grip was tight, her arm was shaking slightly. “Did… did your demon put a spell on me?”
“What!? No, Maridah-”
“You called?”
Both humans shrieked and moved to cover as a figure materialized into thin air in front of them. It was a woman, a dryad, her green skin mostly covered in soot, the leaves, vines, and bark wrapping her body burnt and an ebony black. Smoky branches poked out of her forehead like antlers, bunny-like ears flopping at either side of her head.
“Oh my, if you were looking for some fun, I could’ve brought Bunny instead.” Blazing red eyes regarded them with amusement.
With the shock passing, Liam scowled. “You took our clothes, didn’t you?”
“Hm? They were burnt and dirty.” Maridah pretended like that was an actual concern. “Besides, your auras have touched, I’d assume that as lovers you wouldn’t mind.” At her taunt, Liam had been about to rebuff her, but the words died in his throat. The Goddess chuckled in victory, casually waving at them with her hand, summoning a set of black cotton clothes on them. “Better?”
“Yes, thank you.” He grumbled, wincing as he tried to move his arm. “Did you need to stop the healing before it was finished?”
“How else am I supposed to spread the rumor of a false priestess attempting to take the life of the Amil and one of her guests?” Maridah quirked a brow. “Of course, I’ll play the role of the mortal healer once questions start rolling around. Wouldn’t want to spread rumors of ‘demons’ in the city.” This time her gaze locked on to Aisha, the threat in her voice implicit.
“Stop.” Liam growled. “If Aisha wants us gone from her home, we leave.”
“You’re giving me an order?” Maridah’s voice lowered, the room became darker.
Aisha’s hand went from tight to iron, her grip on his own hand a hard squeeze that almost hurt. Liam ignored it, leveling his glare at the Goddess. “After what I did for you, the least you can do is back off.”
“Tch.” Crossing her arms, the tension in the room vanished, Maridah tapped her foot impatiently. “Fine.”
“You should invite her to be your guest.” Liam squeezed Aisha’s hand to draw her attention.
“Liam, what’s… why?” Her voice was shrill, and her dark complexion looked three shades lighter.
“She keeps her word, and rules of hospitality are important.”
It wasn’t just a measure to reassure Aisha, but also to protect her. Maridah, for all the generosity and kindness she’d shown to him, was still a deity. Not just any deity either, but one of the favorites for assassins and necromancers. Death to her was far more “business as usual” and inconsequential than someone like Thalgrim. Combined with far too much time in the jungle, and the Goddess of Secrets was likely not in the best state of mind when it came to the lives of mortals she didn’t care about.
“I-I… I…” Aisha swallowed. “I invite you to my house, demon.”
The deity’s brows furrowed. “I grace this abode with my presence.” She immediately snapped to look at Liam. “You will teach her what I am.” With a wave, she threw an object at him. Liam stared at the divine dagger. “And be sure to handle things. No loose ends, no half-measures. Either she partakes fully, or not at all.”
The next moment, she was gone.
“L-Liam?” She’d pulled out of his grasp, concern thick. “What did they mean?”
With a heavy sigh, he slowly stood up, walking over to one of the small tables and leaving the knife there before turning to look at Aisha. “It means there are some things we need to talk about.” Moving back towards her, he sat cross-legged and looked at her. “First off, no matter what happens, I give you my word you’re not going to be hurt. The worst that can happen is that we leave.”
Now dressed in a black robe, she stirred, pulling slightly into herself as her eyes locked on to him. “You’re a demon worshiper.”
“It’s… Look, this might sound insane, but I don’t worship her. We’re partners.” He combed his fingers through his hair. “And she’s not a demon in the strictest sense. Demon is what you’d call a powerful spirit that’s reached some semblance of divinity. The Whisperer is a Goddess in full rights, she was once part of the pantheon.”
Her gaze were wide, afraid. “You’re right, this does sound insane. You also said you were not of this world, and now a partner with… a fallen Goddess? Liam, who are you?”
Liam grimaced. “This… is going to take a while.” He gave her a slight apologetic smile. “Sorry in advance.”
----------------------------------------
Aisha stood at the entrance of her study, staring at the proof of what had happened the previous day. Charred furniture, destroyed documents, soot staining the door and its frame. Her eyes looked without really seeing, her mind was lost in a thousand revelations. Or were they outlandish stories? At this point, she didn’t know what to think, what to believe.
True to his word, Liam had told her everything. Everything. A man raised in a world very different to her own, snatched and brought here through unknown means or reasons. A mortal who’d made Gods at the stroke of his pen, yet lived a life that was seen by many as squalor. The more he spoke, the more it felt like a bizarre dream, the machinations of an insane dream.
It didn’t stop. Every passing minute, she’d seen the apprehension growing in his features as he’d tried to convince her of his story. It pained her to watch how he kept giving examples of things that just felt more and more ephemeral and foreign.
Someone who’d made the world. Awakened a long-hidden Goddess. A meteor that would spark a war like none the world had seen… It was too much. Aisha trusted him, he’d fought to save her life. But this? This was beyond trust, it was an impossible nightmare.
Yet she couldn’t bring herself to call it such. Not when claiming she could never trust his story meant the demon would erase her memories of having ever met him.
How unfair it was that she was trapped in such a way. Had she been asked a mere week ago if she’d rather forget everything about a stranger if it meant washing her hands of demon-business, she would’ve taken the deal in a heartbeat.
“My sayyida?” Grauch pierced the silence, standing respectfully at her side. “You’ve not eaten all day.”
“Where did I go wrong?” Aisha asked with a heavy sigh, shoulders drooping. “That I am considering striking a deal with a… with my guest, if just for the sake of not forgetting him?”
“I would not dare presume what choice my sayyida should make; but I do know that I’ve regretted decisions made on an empty stomach more often than not.” Grauch reached forward, offering a platter of baklavas and a cup of juice.
“Didn’t I tell you to keep these from me?” Despite her words, she plucked a few, savoring on their honeyed sweetness.
“Your orders were to only bring them out in case of an emergency, my sayyida.” Grauch bowed respectfully. “I feel like this might count as such a situation.”
“You’re not wrong.” she begrudgingly conceded, taking a few more sweets. “Do you know what the stories tell of when a demon shows up in a city? One way or another, it is destroyed. Either through the demon’s actions or when the Gods show up to fight them.”
“I see, I did not know,” the draxani said. “It’s a part of the tales rarely brought up, I presume.”
“For good reason. Now I have an enemy of the Pantheon in my house, as my guest, and I’m somehow… I have to choose between helping them and putting everything at risk.” She bit her lip, picking another baklava and biting down on it without remorse. “Or tell them to leave, pray that they keep their word, and that it doesn’t come back to haunt me.” Taking the juice, she downed it in a long gulp.
“And I take it sir Liam makes it more complicated?”
“You have no idea.” She groaned. “It is as if I were a young scribe smitten by a mysterious foreigner. Except if I were just a scribe, this would be so much easier. And now that I say it out loud I realize how much of a fool this all makes me.”
“You are not a fool.”
It wasn’t Grauch who’d spoken but someone else. A cold shiver ran down Aisha’s spine as she very nearly choked, turning to look at… a black rabbit.
The thing was barely larger than her fist, more fluff than meat, yet one glance was all it took to know the creature was far more than it seemed. Its fur ate light around it, its eyes blazed like red hot coals. The creature sat on the tray, munching on the remaining baklava.
“Ma-”
“My name is Bunny.” The creature spoke with a harsh bark that made the air shimmer with power and weakened Aisha’s knees. Grauch had gone as still as a statue, daring not to risk dropping the platter and angering the monster. “Actually, small correction; you are a fool, in like, too many ways to count, but Liam's not one of those." Aisha hesitated, meeting the creature's eyes warily, which the creature took as a sign to elaborate. "Origin may or may not have amplified things, but if she had, then it was to keep Liam alive. He survived, now you're no longer of use to us, there's no point in sustaining anything." Bunny shrugged. "I'll admit this is a big if though. In the end, I don't know if she did do anything, and I doubt she'd tell. What I do know is that you're currently not under her spell. It would be within her capabilities to put something permanent, but that's like a tattoo on your aura, anyone looking would see it plain as day. So if any feelings do remain, it's because you want them to be there."
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
"I would not want..." Aisha's words slowed down as she frowned. "The me of a month ago would have scoffed at the me of now."
"It's always easier to scoff at things you don't understand." Bunny replied with a chuckle.
“I-” Aisha hesitated, about to argue but halting. Did she want this? If she were to remove the stress and concerns brought about from the conflict with the Weaver, then her encounters with the mysterious stranger had been pleasant. Not just in the moment, but looking back upon them, it'd been an experience she never thought herself capable of having. As far as she'd been concerned, such whirlwind meetings were the stuff of fantasy and idle gossip, reserved for myths or fools. Yet now that she'd experienced it, she couldn't bring herself to deny that it was something she did not want to let go of. “What are you?”
“I am Liam’s best friend.” The rabbit puffed up proudly.
“Yes, he… told me about you.” It’d been just another outlandish detail to throw on to the storm of outlandish things he’d told her. A black magical speaking lagomorph that was, in fact, an aspect and a piece of a fallen deity. "I meant what, exactly, are you? He had not mentioned much in that regard."
“Of course he didn't, it's what inside that counts.” The creature nodded sagely. “And what I am is an aspect. Consider me an extension of the Goddess of Secrets. I am not her, I am myself, but myself is also an extension of her. We are separate but joined in ways your puny mortal mind couldn't comprehend."
Aisha and Grauch shared a worried glance. The Amil’s mind ran with a thousand different concerns, the absurdity of their current situation, strangely enough, helped. “Was there… anything else you wished to speak of?”
Bunny lazily waved her tiny paw. “I think you're just both being idiots and missing the point. But that's honestly not a bad thing.”
"It's... not?"
"Of course not. You're entirely incompatible, so just call it a day, erase your memories of the past week or so, and go on with your life." The creature that was not a rabbit giggled, an annoying little sound. "I'm sure you will have great success in counting coins until your mortal fingers are wrinkled and pruned."
Was it a healthy reaction for Aisha to feel angry at a monster that clearly could kill them no matter how harmless it might seem? Probably not. But she bristled all the same, feeling her hackles raise at the taunting gaze in the creature. She knew better than to show this irritation, however, and so the human replaced her expression to a pleasant smile. “You don’t say?” Aisha asked coldly.
“I mean, duh.” Bunny answered. “He's got a thing for you for some reason, but you? You're way over your head and he's not seeing by how much." The creature huffed, nibbling on the sweets as she hopped around the platter as if weighing nothing at all. "I know how good he’s at getting into people’s heads, it’s because of him that we outsmarted the Weaver and won! It’s a feat none have pulled off before. But apparently he hasn’t realized that he’s just not speaking your language. He doesn’t understand how you think because you’re so unimportant he barely wrote anything about you.”
It was like a fire had been ignited inside Aisha’s chest, her jaw tightened even as her smile remained plastered in place. “Would that be because I’m merely an Amil?”
“Pretty much. You’re just another second-circle mage working as a glorified coin-counter in a tiny fortified village right next to the middle of nowhere. You’re the example of a nobody that thinks too highly of themselves.” The creature sniggered, licking her paws clean of the honey. “Hey, do you have any more of these things? They’re pretty good.”
The gall of this creature to insult her within her very own home! She would've preferred to have the guards called upon to throw Bunny to the streets, but even she was not foolish enough to do it. “My servant will see that you are sated.” Aisha’s voice now carried an icy sharpness to it. Grauch gave her a discreetly panicked look before turning a corner, and Aisha gave a tiny prayer for his safety. But dutiful as ever, the draxani hurriedly walked towards wherever he hid the forbidden sweets, the rabbit smugly letting herself be carried on the platter.
Aisha turned to look for the true source of her frustration, her footsteps echoed through the corridors of her home as she focused on not letting the monster’s words work her up any more than they already had. She knew Bunny had intentionally goaded her, it was the easiest move in the book, she’d done exactly the same thing to make her enemies commit mistakes. But Liam had said her magic was beautiful, and dammit if Aisha wasn’t about to let that memory be tarnished by some demon-thing that looked like some princess' adorable pet.
Mind spinning with a mix of indignation and plotting, she found her target seated under an olive tree staring at nothing at all. Aisha hesitated as she looked at him, the same fluttering feeling within her chest turned into a tugging knot at the saddened look on his face. Though her heart wished for her to hesitate and step back, she was too frustrated to allow for it. “Liam.” She called out, slowing down enough to not make herself look desperate or in a hurry. With a course of action set before her, she took a sharp breath, preparing herself. Either this worked or it didn’t, but she really hoped it would. “I need you to tell me something.”
“Anything.” He quickly stood up, brushing himself off. “If it can help clear any doubts, then-”
“Money.”
“What?”
“Money.” Aisha repeated, hands on her hips. “Tell me something about money in your world.” She raised her hand before he said anything. “And it has to be a concept that's applicable here.”
She was the Amil, if there was one thing she knew about, it was coin. It had been the core of her work, taxes, tariffs, markets, trade. She knew the ins and outs of how everything worked in regards to the flow of gold within the Caliphate. She’d studied scripture and tomes on the subject, experts and wise men had waxed on and on about the matter.
This was the only way she knew how to prove that anything of what he’d claimed was true. It was the only option to confirm that this wasn’t some sort of delusion involving demonic trickery at every level. And... it would help assuage the Aisha from a month ago. There would be reason and logic to this, not merely this whirlwind of emotions.
Liam appeared to realize the weight of her request and took in a sharp breath, and she mirrored, tension growing as she waited for his next words. “The Merchant God doesn’t like mortals knowing too much about economics. Mostly because he wants charisma and a quick wit to be more important than a calculator, partially because the Weaver has her claws deeply rooted on the whole thing.” His words were tentative, looking at her expectantly. “What that means for us is that there are a few concepts that end up needing to be rediscovered by mortals every few millennia.”
“What about the records?” Aisha asked carefully.
“The temples are the ones that put in the generational effort to keep ancient knowledge, so if the Gods tell them not to record something… they won’t.” He smiled hesitantly. “One of the things they hate the most is formalized probability. The Merchant sees it as gambling, and the Weaver sees it as a form of trying to tamper with fate.”
“You realize how heretical it is to speak of Gods in this way.” It wasn’t even a question, mostly an observation, one followed by a small amused smile. “Though taking in the guests I have is likely to be worse.”
“Definitely.” Liam chuckled nervously, flashing an apologetic nod. “So, do you know how probability works?”
“Of course I do.” She nodded. “If I roll a die with six sides, then the chances it lands on any specific side is one in six.”
“And how do you apply that to insurance?”
The question took her slightly by surprise. “You can't.” She frowned. “Either you have the money to pay for the priests of the Weaver to foretell the chances of tragedy, or you’re making a gamble based on your gut. The Church of the Merchant considers it bad business…” Aisha’s voice trailed off, staring at Liam as he nodded along to what she’d said. “Oh.”
“It’s really easy to formalize, it’s just that it relies on having a broader picture of things, particularly of past events.” Liam spoke. “You first need to have good and thorough record-keeping, and then…”
“And then?” Her breath hitched a little, a lump on her throat, suddenly feeling at the edge of a precipice. “Give me an example.”
“Let’s say you want to insure merchants,” He said. ”This year there were ten merchants in the city, four of them got robbed, and between all of them, they lost forty gold. That’s four gold per merchant on average. If you want them to pay insurance, and still earn a 25% profit, that’s 5 gold coins. Split that up throughout the twelve months and that’s a little over two fifths of a gold coin per month, per merchant.” With every word she could see it clearly, the numbers surging out, the mathematics resolving, everything oh so clearly even as Liam continued to ramble. Aisha didn't need paper, she could see the profit margins forming, the speculative costs, the necessary regulatory protections against fraud... everything panning out while he kept talking. “Whoever gets robbed will get covered. This method can actually be made more accurate by using divination that’s non-target specific, the vague cheaper stuff like whether crime will be up this year or-”
Aisha did not wait, she stepped close, grasped his shirt, and pulled him into a fierce kiss.
Cold hard logic, numbers, irrefutable. This was what she'd been looking for, the shred of reason to tug on. It was like a child being told they could take any and all sweets they desired. She let go of the reins of doubt, sinking into the explosion within her chest, a storm of emotions, elation and dread in equal measure. She did not allow her mind to dwell on the implications, not yet, not while her heart was soaring and her chest felt like it would explode. Everything was crashing down on and around her even as she soared.
In the end, the kiss was too brief.
“I am…” Her face flushed, her grip on him tightened. Screw the rabbit, screw the demon, screw her doubts, this was something she was doing for herself. There was a foundation to be found here, and it was sturdy. “I am doing this for you. Not the… not my other guest.”
“I mean, the whole-”
“Liam,” she said his name with a tone of insistence. She would not have some monster talking down to her, she wasn't just some nobody in the middle of nowhere, she’d worked hard to get where she was at now, she was the most powerful woman in this city, even above the Emir’s wife, and if she was going to jump into this, she was plunging head first. “Surely there is something I can do to help you. How we can help each other.” The certainty and sternness of her declaration made Liam’s face take a crimson blush that Aisha found cute and endearing in equal measure.
Fortunately for her, her own darker complexion hid how she was no less flustered.
“I…” Liam stammered for a moment. “I think-” His smile became apologetic. “Aisha, the things I’m looking for aren’t exactly…”
She bristled, digits digging into his shoulders. “If half of what you’ve said is true, then many things will change. Surely-”
“It’s not that.” He grimaced. “It’s… what I’m looking for is not something I can get with gold.”
Aisha frowned. “Elaborate.”
“Well, I’ll be going on a journey soon-ish. The most I could ask would be with getting labor and mercenaries to Cracked Bay. But that’s mostly for, well, the Whisperer. I want to help her, but it looks to me like…” He hesitated. “I suppose it’s only fair to ask though I suspect the answer. Would you come with me when I leave? I need to gather people and objects, preferably with that place being Cracked Bay.”
Aisha hesitated, biting her lower lip. “I would not, not for any meaningful amount of time.” She shook her head. “I have responsibilities, to my household and to the people of Doeta. Responsibilities I cannot set aside, not indefinitely.” Part of her acknowledged the hypocrisy, betraying the Caliphate and the Pantheon through lending aid to a demon-worshipper, and at the same time insisting she couldn’t abandon her station.
In truth, part of this insistence was that she couldn’t give up what she’d carved out of her own hands and effort. Besides, a relationship could only have a strong foundation if it was built out of mutual interest and need. Aisha couldn’t truly see a future with him if all they had to offer each other were warm emotions. Mutual attraction was a bonus, even if one Aisha refused to let go now that she’d come to learn how powerful it could be.
What Liam offered was clear to her now: knowledge. Foreign knowledge and wisdom, of things that could be incredibly useful. If even half of the things he’d shared were true or viable, then the al-Hakim household would rise to be amongst the richest in the Caliphate. The problem, however, was that the things she could normally offer: her station, her rank, her family name, her gold… they were all things he had not much interest in.
It was, fundamentally, an imbalance.
While Liam could easily become something Aisha needed, she could not do the same for him. It was not lost on her how this was very similar to the situation her own parents had once gone through. Her loving mother had brought nothing to the union that her father had desired, and thus, she’d been neglected and left to rot.
It was not something Aisha al-Hakim would tolerate for herself.
“Surely there must be something.” She insisted, breaking the silence as she gripped his hands tightly. “If you pool your efforts in Cracked Bay, then perhaps I could make it easier to avoid scrutiny? And surely someone would need to fund…” Her voice trailed off as she noticed a peculiar look in his eyes. “You have an idea.”
“I… have. Yes. But it’s…” Liam hesitated. “One possible path ahead would be if you became Maridah’s Champion.”
“WHAT!?”
“Why would I ever let her be my Champion?” A second voice called.
The word was spoken by both Aisha and the newest guest at the same time, the dark overwhelming shadow that consumed the sky and the world having appeared right next to both mortals. Aisha felt as if she’d just been made to swallow a glacier, a cold chill spreading throughout her whole body.
“Oh.”
It was the last thing she managed to say, a singular note of dread right before she fainted.
“Out of all the things that could've come out of taunting her, this was the best.” Bunny rang out in amusement from the top of the olive tree, happily munching on a baklava. “I think I’m starting to like her.”