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Femalekind (Completed)
2.017 The New Arrivals

2.017 The New Arrivals

--- Alasse POV

Depending upon their rank, the various Snake Kin either admire or disbelieve the Captain of the Guard’s admission, many polarised in their opinion. The silent pause as a result gave way to a steady increase in murmuring and yet my memory of the following moments, is empty.

An oppressive cloud of darkness shrouds my mind dismissing any perception of the immediate surroundings including the growing crescendo of hissing. Inky black tendrils pierce my consciousness where previously my Goddess would communicate with me, and an incredible basalt black pain accompanies them. The pain though didn’t affect me, mine being a view from above, aware, and yet immune. Pain is a ruthless behavioural conditioner, should I look deeper and possibly subject myself …? Strong emotions radiate from the black, the pain the most obvious while diving deeper I discover hopelessness, despair, guilt, and lack of self-worth. They cycle through, gathering other destructive negativity the being retaining many after self-examination and confirmation “I deserve the pain”.

“My Goddess no one is innocent, yet I know for certain no one can be as guilty as you suggest you are!”

Out of all the probable hints, the basalt black the single identifying signature alerting me, and I don’t know why.

“Stop and search for my love, find hope in my belief in you. None are perfect and yet you of all of us endeavour to try, do your best, be your best and when you occasionally slip you judge yourself too harshly. Come back to me, to us. Retreat from the unknown edge, there isn’t a cure there. Lean on me, your Prophet, your true believer who you have given so much to and who willingly offers herself as your refuge.”

I open up my heart and allow my feelings of unconditional love and support to flood the thin black tendrils of self-disgust. There is nothing for a time, although time seems to have its own speed for now.

My Goddess shares with me. Each step, each manipulation, the purpose and reasoning, all a case to establish justification and she doubts. Exhausting tiredness is upon her body which infects her mind, clouding her judgement and leading her down a dark path. I recognise the torture technique, the torturer ‘getting lucky’ striking his or her target in a moment of moral doubt. A gentle soothing touch is the sole answer.

I grasp the hand of my servant, a Lay Worshipper of our Goddess. I [Magiclink] and draw mana. There is no resistance, my servant serves the needs of her Goddess’ Prophet and as a reward I allow her to travel with me. Our mana stimulates each emotion of love, hope, faith, trust and belief I infuse our link with. From within my servant a third, fourth, fifth and sixth consciousness, immature except for one feeling, love. Love of Mother and love from a Divine blessing blooms zeroing in on the source of their existence, the reason for their being, Aphrodite, Goddess of Fertility.

The blackness pops. A colourful burst of light engulfs us all. Our Goddess is free of her disgust and despair. She rests. Our link to her fades as she dreams of a future instead of an abyss of darkness.

“Silence you ungrateful Kin!” The bellowing roar erupts from behind me, an absolute command with a thin undercurrent of disgust. The resulting silence rolls back over the gathering like a breeze blowing across a field full of tall grass. Waleran the Calm demands all adhere to his appellation, his huge bulk adding significant weight to his words.

His outburst also calls me back to the present. The dreaming celebration is over in an instant for my Servant and I and our Goddess’ fading smile our only reward as she descends into a peaceful sleep.

The oneness with my Goddess broken and perhaps resentful now, I am ruthless and grab the moment. “You either believe and listen further or you leave immediately, those are the only two options which will be tolerated,” I hiss each word with venom, without restraint.

A Least House Matriarch, subservient to a Lower House Matriarch prods forward to speak her mind. The arm of her Matriarch chops down in front of her snout. No further dissent surfaces.

Recovering from my outburst I continue with a carefree attitude of invulnerability. Glimpsing the darkness and returning from the brink with my Goddess and receiving her smile empowering. “What I have said, what has been demonstrated before you are truths. If in the days and weeks which follow, I am proven false, you can eat me.” I scan the crowd; salivating smiles greet me. They like the offer. They are Snake Kin and firmly adhere to their values. Now I must control my wild swings of emotion. Now I must shatter them with the promise of ruin.

“Further, I would request any who aren’t Matriarchs and wield proficient Mastery over the Soil Element accompany Matriarch Darunia of House Black Tail. Much clearing and many pathways need to be crafted to accommodate the unexpected number of arrivals, more than the number of previously prepared places.”

Whispering rises amongst the gathering, the volunteering for no profit an issue, also suspicion over safety I suspect. The greatest obstacle though is their Daughters obeying another Matriarch. While they decide, another, whispers in my ear.

“Mistress, I am Matriarch of a Lower House, some would accuse, in fact, a Least House and yet your introduction suggests otherwise, I don’t wish for you to be eaten for lies.”

I hiss with purpose under my breath. “My orders included disposing of you, apparently Yinrel prefers her direct underlings to be Matriarchs, this being my chance to prove myself. I choose to decline, my interests lie elsewhere. So, to prevent me from being eaten you best strengthen your House and earn your place amongst this ramble of the desperate. Your House is disciplined, they are familiar with duty when unappreciated and if you put down your brooms and dust brushes your House would clean away several of these Houses parading above their capability before me. I will not speak to you about this again.”

I didn’t observe her reaction to the illuminating truth of the words, my attention fully focused on the indecision before me.

“How long will this take?” I hiss, an undercurrent of impatience.

“Details need to be sorted …”

I didn’t pay any heed to who volunteered the explanation, I knew the reasons, once being Snake Kin myself. They were judging favour and profit, ensuring fair or possibly unfair compensation for use of their resources.

I stare them down. “No details.”

While some thought to reply none spoke a word, their heads snapping back, a classic shock, confusion tell amongst my Kin.

“How long do you believe we have before the Great Houses decide your petty up stakes departure is actually not cute or ridiculous, and when the immediate fully expected failure and return to them with your tails in knots slithering, begging forgiveness doesn’t happen and they come looking for their errant property? One day? One week? I suppose the optimists would hope for one month?”

Several of those present swallow, indicating they didn’t fully realise the risk of the game, thinking we gather for playful adventure beyond their city walls.

“Foolish are those who believe profit will save you, make amends, demonstrate worth. You have run away, free of debt yes but the Great Houses still believe you belong to them. Whatever profit you make to buy your freedom they will demand much of it plus absolute servitude. They will leave you with crumbs to appear fair, drawing you back into their false welcome. You know deep in your hearts that they don’t reward disloyalty and this type of escape will never be permitted again. They will of course need examples and ringleaders to display for the benefit of the present and to establish convincing lore as a warning for the future.”

Many Snake Kin slump back on their coils, the fun and thrill of escape over. The real risk needs to be calculated now and I observe the Matriarchs consume every moment with strategies and plans within plans searching for a different truth while I speak.

“I am planning on the Great Houses debating like you are now, ensuring profit is balanced with risk, rewards are doled out appropriately or in best circumstances favourably. I hope this task takes them at least one week, a blessing if it requires days longer. Our biggest advantage is not to do that, not be Snake Kin.”

Matriarch Vestan of House Single Scale slithers forward, this single action silencing the debates behind her. “You are asking for us to abandon our core way of life, obey your wisdom or perish. How do you expect that of us?”

My hand reaches for the snakeskin of my head, polishing the scales. Most believe I am thinking, they are mistaken I am remembering the words worked through over many a night subject to adjustments from recent revelations.

“If we don’t, we are condemned. I invite you to embrace Divine Power as your first true step and trust me when I say profit will follow. That is our plan. As for proof of sudden change, I give you the recognition provided to a lowly servant by a Captain of the Guard. It is up to you to follow their lead … plainly we need additional accommodations and Matriarch Darunia has demonstrated the required standard needed. She and her House can toil away while you sleep amongst the bushes or you can assist. In this forest can only be allies.”

I wave both hands towards myself, encouraging volunteers. One here and one there slither forward and the number grows, their respective Matriarchs unmoving with stony faces in disagreement with their observations. When enough come forth Matriarch Darunia marches them away. The eyes of those who remain track after those departing are full of sympathy; sorrow or acceptance is difficult to tell.

My tent has been rearranged, the detail of the changes the real reason Matriarch Darunia stood beside me earlier.

“I invite you all into my tent to listen to my proposal. Upon exit you will have signed your acceptance or not and if not, you are free to leave to make your way back to your respective Great House and their welcome.” My servant rushes to hold the tent flap back as I enter first. Exposing my back is a calculated risk, I believe I have enough who would intervene, and yet near instant elemental control difficult to counter at the best of times and almost suicidal during this display of foolish bravado. They need to witness my confidence, my faith in going forward to escape our singular all driving core belief – profit.

I take my place, my hardened soil platform engraved with the holy symbols of my Goddess and placed at the centre of a half-circle of similar platforms. I asked Darunia to engrave the Matriarch’s platforms with their House symbols and incorporate a small side table of ample size to accommodate a jug of wine and two wine glasses. As the Matriarchs find their place, according to rank or assumed rank I watch with some delight as they sip at the wine. Some suspect poison, insisting a nearby servant take the first drink after pouring the wine into the first glass and then decanting it into the second, in theory, washing poison from the first, which the Matriarch can then safely drink from. The servants are eager to comply, of course, savouring the dreadful impost.

A commotion at the entrance erupts as the tent flap is being tied off, disturbing the wine tasting and the mood I am trying to establish. I realise one mistake, none but I can attend to the disturbance.

“I demand to enter! I am also a Matriarch!”

I recall the voice, although the higher-level screeching distorts my recollection. “Allow her entry,” I order from within. Deft hands unbind the tent flap which then snaps back allowing the protestor entry. I fully occupy the entrance so no further advance can be made.

I try to compose myself, deliberately standing in the shade of the tent to conceal any look of surprise on my face. The third adjutant, the survivor of the delegation from House Silver Scale hovers before me. Draped around her neck is her Matriarch’s pendant and evidently her delay in casting a ruse to throw off any demonstration of her proficiency.

I step aside. “Enter and declare yourself.” I am not familiar with the symbol of her House and hope another in the room is.

“I am Azarya, Matriarch of House Sterling Scale and wish to join my House to this enterprise.”

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Several of the gathering hiss and then one clarifies. “House Sterling Scale no longer exists, even the name suggests the House belongs to House Silver Scale, which it does. She is false, her Matriarch pendant no longer holds any significance.”

The shade and shadow within the tent gather, solidifying into a floating spear of ebony black. Turning this way and then that and finally dispersing. The Matriarch explains her situation throughout the demonstration.

“I and my guard are all who remain of my House. Our numbers are … restrained and we have one purpose only. We safely escort the Adjutants of House Silver Scale when they are on a mission – we, unfortunately, failed our mission this time and you have left us with a choice between certain death upon return or acceptance within your venture.”

Matriarch Vestan places her wine down on the side table provided and clears her throat. “If you are all here, who escorts other Adjutants in your absence?”

A curt bow, a clear sign of deference and somewhat insulting to me as I didn’t receive the same concession. Focus I admonish myself.

“House Silver Scale through the decades has never destroyed the Houses they defeat, they retain them, a small number of members each and where necessary supplement them with strays. All such Houses like ours are assigned to specialist roles. Other Escort Houses for example will provide protection services for the various Adjutants of House Silver Scale when we don’t.”

I recall the conditions. “Do you leave behind any debt? Hatchery?”

Without paying me any heed, her gaze upon her fellow Matriarchs, she replies, “We retain no wealth except a bare minimum required for our function.”

I snap back immediately. “What commands your loyalty if, you have no binding restraints?”

This time she faces me. “It is widely known is it not a generous reward is posted for the identification, arrest and handing over of any … deserters of House Silver Scale. What isn’t widely known is this includes the likes of us who of course most assume are Daughters of House Silver Scale. If I declared House Sterling Scale independent, House Silver Scale would declare us usurpers of a vanquished House trying to throw off our true allegiance, true curs to be hunted by all, alive or dead for the same reward.”

“What you say could still happen,” I reply. I try to conceal my concern; House Sterling could react immediately instead of in days or weeks at this direct insult. What of the co-operation between the two Houses to relieve me of my role? Have spies reported my complicity, although in what? I have been encouraging Questor Groups and seeking to explore Divine worship as per my charter. Unless the demise of many Cat Kin while worshippers of Zeus has tainted the prospect of worship in the eyes of the Great Houses.

“Oh no, not now, because you see the Leader of this Expedition will declare House Sterling Scale resurrected. Either we will stand or fall with you. Death is better than slavery.”

I gulp. “At best I will recognise your House within this tent and no further. Fortunately, not being a Matriarch, the decision isn’t mine and I defer to the gathered wisdom of those in this tent as they need to accept the additional risk.” My hand sweeps wide inviting their opinion. My heart is racing and yet congratulating myself on dodging this particular decision, appreciating all the more my status as a non-Matriarch.

I allow them several moments to debate amongst themselves and then call it. “Show of one hand for admittance?”

To my amazement, twenty-three hands rise and I am unable to compose myself before notice.

Matriarch Azarya speaks, “You shouldn’t be surprised, one of your many speeches preached unity or death and the Matriarchs before you, as is their way ran several stratagems and scenarios to avoid the fate you described, and all came up wanting. They are well acquainted with the ruthlessness of the Great Houses and while my circumstance is slightly different, I found no other escape either, hence my presence before you now.”

I mull this over while a servant fetches Darunia to craft another platform, which she completes with the utmost skill, even engraving House Sterling Scale’s symbols to the delight of Azarya.

“You have one more commission Matriarch Darunia.”

About to exit via the tent flap she looks back over her shoulder in askance.

“Please craft one for yourself as I assume the quarters are being ably prepared, delegations assigned, and you only need to inspect when each craftswoman believes she is finished?”

She nods, I notice a slight shiver quickly smooth and she sets to work. Once she finishes one of her own House serves her wine.

“Servants dismissed,” I command. They exit, shoulders back, eyes level sparing a glance for their Matriarch. Once beyond the thick cotton weave of the tent walls a gaggle of excitement releases and then ends. Inside the tent their Matriarch glows with a difficult combination of pride and embarrassment, throwing back another gulp of wine.

The tent walls aren’t soundproof and their dismissal is more protocol than the need for security although the three Questor Groups and the Captain of the Guard’s troop do patrol a substantial cordon around my tent to dissuade any eavesdroppers.

I swing my tail from my platform and with a push of my hands, I am upright before them.

“I did prepare a grand speech to persuade you to the merits of my plan but your commitment to one in all in with the acceptance of House Sterling Scale convinces me I need to stress more important things on the assumption you already agree.”

I reach for my wine and take a sip and then scan the attentive faces before me. Be brave I council myself.

“The plan requires we empower a Goddess so she can then empower us.” Their looks of disbelief before they turn away chill me to my bones. Maybe they thought we would access the Divine in Zeus’ name? Somehow rumours of this particular impossibility didn’t escape to prepare them all. Oh, my Goddess, there is brave and then there is foolhardy.

“Well I would expect nothing less,” hisses Azarya.

Her response demands their attention. It seems they need a lifeline from my insanity, and she offers one.

“Why do you think I am here? Only the most incredulous and impossible to believe, scheme, will be able to free us from our servitude. We are telling the Great Houses to leave us alone, an attempt to bring us to heel will cost them more profit than the attempt is worth. I have existed as close as anyone to the Matriarch of a Great House and I know our chance of success with any ordinary plan is almost nil. With the madness Alasse espouses I see that number improve.”

The silence is on a knife edge, it can cut either way.

“Continue,” says Azarya, waving a hand, before sipping her wine.

I eagerly obey her snooty command. “In two, perhaps three days at most I, as Prophet of the Goddess Aphrodite will consecrate her first Temple on this world.”

Azarya claps, with an over-the-top eagerness radiating from her face. “You don’t disappoint, and I believe our chances improve every time you speak.”

Spontaneous applause erupts from the other Matriarchs and when the tent reverberates, I wave my arms for them to stop. I recognise in their reaction the desperation of the trapped. I contemplate my future at that moment, twenty-three, no twenty-five Snake Kin will decide at some future point my life may save them and the offering of my head may spare their House.

With passion, I continue. “Those gathered during the consecration have two options, utter undeniable belief or something less. The rewards of power will match the level of belief, there will be no reverence for rank. Your title and position of Matriarch will matter little to the Goddess if you don’t commit to belief.”

There are no comments, no negative reactions, their eyes bore down upon me and I am the one standing! I take another sip of my wine and then return to quickly drain the glass.

“Other Kin and Stone Giants will be present, and you must accept this as the Goddess accepts them. You will find they will come to our aid if required as we must go to theirs if ever called upon.”

A Matriarch raises her hand. I quickly quell a quiet amusement rising within me as a result of the subservient gesture but perhaps I have gone too far and broken them in some deep way. They are conditioned to obey a superior, have I now become such, at least to this one? I nod towards her.

“What are we to do with our egg hatcheries, it seems as many as possible should be present and I would ask none of my House to stay behind if a trusted plan could be worked out.”

When they committed this included their eggs, and the future of their House and I knew the answer, I just didn’t know if they would accept it.

“Each member of your House will nurse an egg and bring them to the Temple.”

Her hand rises slowly again, almost afraid to do so and I nod to her again.

“We have more eggs than adults and youths, and while youths could be untrustworthy, younglings surely so.”

“You can trust another House to help or I could request other Kin to you to help.”

She wobbles before regaining her composure, not even having the presence of mind to raise her hand before speaking. “Other Kin? Trust our future to other Kin?”

“You exclude Snake Kin so yes.” I did wonder if a Snake Kin House would trust other Kin over other Snake Kin, perhaps the quandary now has an answer.

“I will need to discuss this erm … difficulty with my House.”

“My House would be honoured to nurse your House’s eggs, in part because we wish to help but more importantly because we can, we don’t have a hatchery,” offers Azarya.

The reply is feeble. “I will mention your offer, thank you.”

They all turn their attention back to me and I begin the end of my speech-making, apparently dodging the particularly awkward questions, possibly due to their shock or plain lack of alternatives.

“Between now, as in when we finish and until just before we journey to the Temple site I will give sermons explaining the Goddess’ place in this world, the core beliefs she champions from which her power will grow and with that growth bless her most ardent worshippers with a portion.”

“What of the God Zeus, I have been well informed the Lion Beast Kin, in particular, venerate him no more and yet his presence, at least in the Quest Town grows. Will he not look upon us with greedy eyes?”

I don’t remember the Matriarch’s name or House and yet I need to answer this question and try to end this line of questioning.

“His Priests are already at work convincing those not yet committed to a God to join his faith it is true. Worship of him is an option and you could worship Aphrodite for days, weeks or months and then decide to forsake her for Zeus, she accepts this, your choice is your choice. Not many live to regret forsaking Zeus, so choose wisely and commit to your faith with your entire being and reap what you sow. I have no more to say on the subject of a foreign God.”

“Wait, what do you mean by foreign? Explain!” Yet another Matriarch finds her voice and I curse my carelessness.

Several take up the chant forcing me to speak, I know this explanation will be messy and yet my Goddess insists on truth, her belief; that truth is rewarded with trust. Almost done and away and yet … not.

“Zeus and his fellow Gods, perhaps you have heard the names Hera and Athena are from another World called Earth and he is trying to establish himself and his pantheon in our world. They wish to climb to the familiar heights of their power and guide us according to their ways.”

“How do you know the truth of this?” asks another Matriarch.

I reply quickly. “Aphrodite was once his Prophet as I am now hers. Zeus betrayed her, broke a promise to her and now she wishes to throw off his chains and establish her Godhead.” The question is a real test and I didn’t hesitate as any indecision would indicate uncertainty, absolutely fatal right about now.

“What promise?” asks yet another.

This is where I believe I will lose them and yet my Goddess is committed to absolute truth. They won’t physically leave, of course, they are trapped. They will lose the faint glimmer of faith I have been cultivating in them, their House will emulate that condition and when asked to commit in the ceremony be half-hearted to the detriment of us all.

“The promise he would return her to her creator Prometheus who resides on Earth, Zeus banished her to our world to punish her creator moments after her creation. Given she is unable to return she commits to our world and wishes to push Zeus and his pantheon back to Earth.”

Azarya bursts out laughing, her jovial hissing quietening the growing dissent. “So, a family squabble then? Is that all? I say if this Earth rejects Aphrodite then all the more we welcome her, with nowhere else to go she will rely upon our worship as much as we rely upon her power-sharing. This Zeus can always run back to Earth if he feels under threat and I prefer the one backed into an unforgiving corner same as us for my God.”

“Speak for yourself, for one late to this venture you have been more than dismissive of any doubt and I wonder if your presence a plant, to dup us all.” The first-time speaker upright, pointing at Azarya.

Azarya rises, her fingers clenching and releasing and before she replies, probably to the detriment of the entire enterprise, I respond, waving my hands downwards for calm. “My Goddess insists upon truth. As her Prophet and well aware of Snake Kin ways and suspicious thoughts I counselled her first and then argued when that failed against such a plan and she wouldn’t be turned. Nothing has changed, you either believe and have faith or not, the choice remains with you.” Making them feel in charge of their future, my last desperate gamble. The illusion of self-determination is a tool typically utilised by the powerful on the weak when in reality they are still being herded without any real choice.

As they file out, they don’t whisper under their breaths or snipe at me with words of doubt, their faces are thoughtful, a refreshing change and to a great extent a relief. I need more wine that is for certain to prepare for my first class, the likely attendance being nil while they digest all which has been revealed.

A cough breaks me from my thoughts. Vestan, by her age, venerable would be apt in the absence of an exact year count and her acceptance as Matriarch of a newly formed House speaking volumes for the respect, she must be held in.

“You have convinced me simply because your Goddess was wise to choose truth. Snake Beast Kin are adept at sniffing out dung, we have grown up to expect lies first and then sift out the truth. Your statements weren’t challenged because they thought them lies, they were challenged because they couldn’t find the lies, they were incredulous and possibly unbelievable due to their impossibility, talking about Gods from other worlds, the term only new as a result of Zeus’ recent presence, but not due to any lie. And the simple fact is we have no other choice. I doubt Zeus and his Priests will defend us against the Great Houses, therefore we must by worshipping Aphrodite empower ourselves. I take my leave and hope we prevail.”

With my jaw hanging she leaves. The shoving of a wine glass into my hand brings me out of my stupor and unsurprisingly Azarya and Darunia beam smiles of satisfaction toward me.

“What has made you both so happy?”

Then glance toward each other and Darunia sips her wine while Azarya speaks. “If any of your classes have a vacancy Daughters and Sons from my House will fill them, they will return more than once if required to. They must believe until they have no other choice.” With that said she leaves.

Her eyes couldn’t stay on me and I needed to grab her chin. A Matriarch, hesitant to speak to a Lessor Snake Kin, unheard of!

“You have done me and my House a great honour, we will not forget.”

I place my hand on her shoulder, another taboo she allows me. “We have a deal. You need to strengthen so none can name me a liar and devour me, remember.”

She nods. “I go to check on the work of others.”

Upon her leaving several servants do enter and tidy, exchanging the wine except for mine, with water. My expectations aren’t high and then my servant begins to usher in the first class. I expect none and yet the class is full, more surprising is the attendance includes other Kin, one Fox Kin in particular as well as others.