She had no idea which way was up and which was down. Her sight was gone, and so was her perception of space and time. She could not tell where she was or even if time had continued to pass. For all she knew, she had been floating for a second or for a month. In place of her sight, memories floated to the surface of her mind like an uncomfortable burp, stealing her awareness so that she could not tell if she was still living them or remembering them.

She was on her hands and knees, digging for worms. She was standing up to her father for the first time, asking to attend the new moon celebration. She was up to her knees in mud, wading to find her lost necklace.

She lived moments that she had long forgotten and those that could never be forgotten. They came by in quick succession, real and present in one moment and then gone in the next, so quickly that she almost forgot them as soon as they were gone.

Until an unfamiliar memory arrived. It almost slipped past, driven by the tiding pulling all the others, but she grasped it with all her might.

She was standing in a hallway, holding a tray, and standing in line with other attendants. The hallway was so dark, that the glare of the light at its end felt like the first glimpse of the sun outside a tunnel. They had been standing in line for hours, holding their trays in that position, and Aria wondered why she had maneuvered herself into such a painful assignment. She would either serve dinner to deities, or she would die of a leg cramp before they arrived.

A hand closed around her arm, forcing a gasp out of her. Before she could identify her attacker, he pulled her forcefully, past her companions and into the nearest storeroom. A few eyes watched the exchange but did not leave the line. The storeroom door slammed, trapping Aria with the newcomer, and leaving her scrambling to secure her tray before the pitcher on it spilled. She settled for holding both the tray and pitcher with one hand each, and glared at her captor.

The glare died an instant later.

Hurriedly, she put the pitcher on the ground and went to her knees.

“Your Eminence,” she took shallow, worried breaths. “Please forgive my disrespect.” Inside she wondered what had possessed the Prince of the Sky to speak with her, but she could do nothing but wait for his explanation.

He heaved an exasperated sigh.

“Look at me,” he said.

The force in his voice propelled her head forward. She met his eyes, normal brown ones hidden behind normal, dark lashes.

Then, as she watched, he changed until the figure standing there was someone she knew. She continued to stare at him in confusion, wondering at the point of the display and her expected reaction.

When he didn’t speak for a long time, she guessed that she was expected to say something.

“Thank you for gracing me with your presence, Your Eminence.”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake, stand up Aria. It’s me.”

Out of self-preservation, she remained kneeling. “What do you mean, Your Eminence?”

This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

He rolled his eyes. “I can’t believe it, but your subservience is more annoying than your rudeness. It’s me, Isei. You haven’t forgotten me so quickly, have you?”

“Eh,” aria searched for a response that would not offend him. “When did you become the prince?”

He rolled his eyes. “Catch up quickly, please. We don’t have much time.”

“You have always been the prince.” The words sounded odd on her tongue, but she understood that to be the conclusion he wanted. “And you lied to me.”

“You never asked who my father was,” he said.

She felt bolder. “And this shapeshifting ability of yours?”

“I was trying to move about without drawing a mob. They are both my bodies. I simply didn’t tell you about the other one.”

Aria shook her head to clear out all the other questions. She would not argue with the Black God’s son. “Why are you here?”

“I should be asking that.” He sounded frustrated and angry. “You were in the lower realm. Why can’t you stay where you’re safe?”

Aria forced herself to remember that he was a prince. “Thank you for your care, Your Eminence. I was promoted during this past cycle.”

He hissed. “Stop doing that. And stand up. Looking down is hurting my neck. I’m sure you feel pleased with yourself, so let me correct you. You’re always only half as clever as you think you are. Working in this place is not a promotion. It is a death sentence. Who was the last attendant you know, who left this place?”

Aria wanted to tell him that she had not been there very long, but he cut her off.

“No one leaves,” he said. “When your service is over, you are gifted with a poisoned cup. Your parents won’t even be notified.”

Cold washed over Aria. She wanted to doubt it, but it made too much sense. She had never heard of retired attendants from the middle realm, and no one she had met so far had even mentioned retiring.

“That is not the worst of it,” Achi said. “You maneuvered your way into a position here, and then you did the same in order to serve at this feast.” He looked down at her with disdain. “Did you not wonder why none of the older attendants fought for the position?”

Some of them had, but she had wondered why it was not more popular. Why did so few people want to serve at a feast attended by the most important deities?

“They’ll kill us when this is over,” she said.

“Of course, they will. A more civilized deity would simply wipe your memories, but Garo hates loose ends. So, since I left, you have managed to walk into certain death twice.”

They were both silent. Inside, Aria cursed, but hope blossomed inside her anyway.

“Can you help me?” she asked.

Achi sighed. “No. That’ll just cause more trouble.”

He sighed and scratched his head. Aria itched to press for an explanation, but she restrained herself while he thought. Of all the foolish things to do, she had managed to get herself on a death list.

“I could just leave,” she said.

Achi hissed. “And what did I just say about loose ends? You think the God of War can’t find one human?”

With another sigh, Achi twisted off a ring of the four that littered his fingers. He held it out to her, but when she tried to grab it, he didn’t let go.

“I am giving this to you because I have no choice,” he said. “It is dangerous and difficult to use, but it is your only chance. I don’t know why I’m even trying this given how stupid you are….”

He trailed off, and Aria noted that Achi the prince was far more condescending than Isei the pauper. And he claimed he hadn’t deceived her.

“Anyway,” he said, “remembering himself. “It is tricky to use, but it’s all the help I can give. Whatever you make of it,” his voice fell, depression filling it, “will be up to you.”

“What does it do?” For all his talking, he had neither explained it nor let her have it.

“It’s a pathfinder,” he said. “You’ll see. Put it on to use it and take it off when you’re done. I have to go.”

She tried to stop him, but he was through the door as quickly as he had brought her in, leaving the ring with her.