Two people greeted them on the steps of what was Timbrelle first mansion sighting. With four stories, multiple towers and bricks of every shade of blue, she was staring for some time before she realized Trestovan had been speaking to her. He smirked at her shock.
“I said, ‘We have plenty of room, if there’s anyone you want to see we can invite them to stay’.”
“No, no, no, there’s no one.” She glanced at Adna. There was no mistaking her mood. Arms crossed, she looked much larger than usual. The three inch heel on her boots placed her at the same height as Trestovan. Yet, compared to the woman she had gotten to know, Timbrelle thought she now looked… small.
“Tragic though that may be, I admit I am glad you will have more time for me to monopolize.” He slung an arm around Gren.
Gren shot a wary look at the two people who had come to meet them.
“Dartly, the family butler.” Trestovan gestured to the man. Surprisingly young with the body shape of a stick bug, he looked like he should be focusing on his math homework rather than an entire household.
“And this lovely creature is Moira.” He placed a kiss on the back of her hand.
“I didn’t teach you that.” The old woman said in a voice as cracked and textured as the leathery skin of her face. Despite her disapproving tone, a smile tugged at her mouth setting off a line of wrinkles up her cheeks. She greeted them with a curtsy and said “Pay him no mind. I tried my best to instill dignity in him since he was an infant but he thwarted my every attempt. He knows no shame and an old woman like me needs to know her limits.”
“He is rarely this outlandish.“ Dartly observed in a flat voice.
“Showing off for company? My Trestovan?” Moira reached up to pinch the Young Master’s cheek. Taller than her reach, he bent his knees to accept the pinch.
“It’s wonderful to meet you. I’m Timbrelle and this is Adna.” She gestured to her companion who gave the old lady a nod and resumed her vigil of the gardens. The attitude did not go unnoticed by the butler and she was beginning to suspect that nothing did. The face he made as his stare drilled holes into her skull could have wilted flowers. Someone was not a fan of Adna.
“Hey Adna? Are you ok?” Timbrelle had waited through introductions with Trestovan, an extensive, luxurious lunch and a tour of the grounds for a chance to corner Adna. Now that they finally had a moment to rest Timbrelle had grasped the opportunity and Adna’s shoulders.
“I’m fine.” She said, unconvincing.
Narrowing her eyes at Adna, she asked “What? So now we don’t tell each other what we’re going through?”
“There’s nothing to tell.” Adna said, shrugging off her touch.
“You’ve ignored everyone since Trestovan hopped in our carriage. Do you think I’ll believe nothing is wrong?”
Pit-patting began at the windows heralding the rain that Moira predicted earlier. Stubborn insistence that she felt the storm in her bones made Timbrelle wonder if the woman was experiencing an arthritic flare-up or if in a world of magic and nonsense, sometimes bones predict weather. It was no more insane than the magical chain they kept calling a subpoena.
“I didn’t say nothing was wrong, I said there’s nothing to tell! I can’t— I don’t…” she shook off Timbrelle’s grasp and began pacing their spacious room. A few laps in, she flopped onto the bed. “Nothing is wrong per se. Nothing happened. I’m not offended or hurt. I just… loathe aristocrats. I know it isn’t fair or polite. It isn’t even grounded in anything I can remember. This is the strongest I’ve felt about anything since waking up. It’s hard to ignore. Like a… Like an allergy! Yeah. You’re fine with it in theory but your body says ‘absolutely not’.”
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“You think it has something to do with your past?” Timbrelle asked.
“The alternative is that I’m biologically predisposed to hating nobles.” She gave Timbrelle a withering look. “That feels unlikely.”
“So rude.” Timbrelle said and turned to start inspecting their room.
A large bed dominated by an even larger canopy took up half of the spacious room. Various wispy, delicate fabrics draped across the windows casting aquamarine sun beams onto the stark white tile. The second half of the room housed a sitting area of cream colored couches and, to Timbrelle’s delight, a wall of shelves filled with books. She changed direction mid-step and began pouring over the titles.
“Hey Adna, do you guys have a Bible here?”
“This isn’t my house. How would I know what books they’ve got?” Adna said.
“No, I mean like is there some kind of religious scripture in this—“ she cut herself off. She’d been about to say ‘in this world’. Instead she panicked.
“…in… this house.”
They stared at each other for a long moment before Adna responded.
“Yeah, Timbrelle. That’s what you said before.”
“Sorry. I’m trying to find out which God gave me a pile of jewels. I meant to ask if you can think of a book that might have that information.” Timbrelle said.
“Oh! Almost every aristocrat has an Encyclopedia Ex Deus. I bet this rich bastard has a wagon full.”
Indeed, when Timbrelle had inquired after an Encyclopedia Ex Deus Trestovan had asked if she wanted to see his collection. This was met by a satisfied smile from Adna. After assuring him that they only wanted one for reference, a maid brought one by. This book, while still of high quality, read more like a textbook than scripture. True to the heritage of college textbooks back on Earth it was a thousand pages and much too erudite for her to actually enjoy reading.
“Tua, Oolandru, Eh… ‘Eh’ is a name?” Timbrelle had hoped to flip through a picture book called “From Alpha to Omega, Learn the Alphabet with Jir”. This was going nowhere, fast.
“According to this, she’s the original priestess of Hammomam and achieved godhood in the first century.” Adna read, unable to muster any level of enthusiasm.
“She achieved godhood? She started human and turned into a capital ‘G’ God?” Utter shock befell Timbrelle.
Adna sighed. “Hey, you. Yeah, you. If you’re going to keep secrets, you need to be a little more subtle. Many people, including the owner of this mansion, are working toward godhood. It is common knowledge.”
“Trestovan’s father?”
“Godhood gets much easier when you have substantial capital to invest. Whether it be money, talent or time, you need to have a lot of it to ascend. It’s faster to just endear yourself to a God and have them deify you. I don’t know exactly what that entails, because in the history of human creation only a few thousand have done it and no one wants to tell the secret. But each and every one is in that book.”
“A few thousand?” Timbrelle asked incredulously.
“Of the ones that ascended that way. Those are secondary Gods, tertiary Gods are brought in by them and anything below that is technically only a high spirit. Above that are the ‘First’, or the originals who were born with the planet. The ‘Primordials’ created the planet and the First. It is theorized that there are levels higher than that, but it hasn’t been proven. All in all, I think there are four-thousand.” she squinted into the middle distance and changed her mind. “Probably closer to five. Why do you look so sick?”
Timbrelle snapped the book shut and dropped it on the table. “I’m frustrated at myself for studying so much when it was useless. Do we just pray to Jir and ask to have them send a message along?”
“He did explicitly tell us not to. I don’t want to get on his bad side by breaking his rules. From the way he talked to me, I have a feeling I need to stay in his good graces.” she shivered.
“Right… well, would it seem weird if we described him to someone? There are seven thousand after all.” Timbrelle asked. She was becoming more and more aware that being ignorant of this world was sure to bite her in the butt sooner rather than later. How was she supposed to know that there was a heavenly hierarchical structure when she couldn’t ask simple questions without giving herself away or seeming daft? Cake’s son had accepted her questions without hesitation. He was often an unreliable narrator and every answer needed to be taken with a grain of salt.
It was so frustrating! She had no reliable sources outside Adna but she was unwilling to ask for answers when they both knew that Adna could not expect the same of Timbrelle.
“Then let’s find some god nerds and see who your sugar daddy is.” Adna walked out the door without waiting for a reply. The enjoyment on her face when Timbrelle came hopping out wearing a boot and a half was enough to earn the stink face from Timbrelle.
“How do you know what a sugar daddy is?” Timbrelle asked after she caught up. “There’s no way it’s called the same thing here.”
“You’re doing the thing again.”