Taha had been in prison since time out of mind. The walls around her had gradually shifted to take on a bloodstained tone. Looking at her hair, she'd seen that it had become brighter, like those of Tamar's priestesses.
It was one more violation.
Even now, she felt Tamar's will coursing through her mind, drawing up memories of blood. It focused more and more on the carnage Taha had wrought in battle. However, there was a real enjoyment within it. Taha let the visions flow through her, even as she contemplated how best to respond.
Submission.
Feign submission until an opportunity for escape appeared. But, if Taha had gotten Tamar's interest before, perhaps some defiance.
So Taha waited until the door opened, and Tamar entered, clad in black armor. She looked at Taha narrowly. "So, I'm back. Anything to say?"
"...Yes," said Taha, contemplating her best move. "I'm sorry."
Tamar smiled. "And?"
"I didn't think my actions would hurt you the way they did," said Taha simply. "And I'm very sorry."
"I know you don't mean a word of it, you know," said Tamar, smirking.
"What am I supposed to say?" asked Taha simply. "Do you want me to be glad you did this to me? I'm trying to give you what you want.
"But if you're expecting me to beg, you'll be disappointed."
"Fine, I'll call it a start. I guess you're sorry you got caught," said Tamar with a shrug. "How long are you planning on staying in this cell, Taha?"
"As long as you force me to stay here," replied Taha.
"Good," said Tamar. "Then I'll give you two options. One, you can be my pet. Two, you can be my slave."
"What's the difference?" asked Taha.
"A pet doesn't have any responsibilities," said Tamar. "A pet can lie around all day, be taken care of, and amuses its master by its existence. All it has to do is show proper affection; it will be loved and adored.
"Just look at your friend Nendas." And she motioned. A vision appeared, and Tamar saw Nendas trapped within a cage.
"Nendas! He..." Taha halted. "He'd never choose to be a pet?!"
"Nendas has been Jaha's pet since the day he was branded; the feathers and cage made it official," said Tamar. "She gave him free use of her power to a degree that was astounding.
"I mean, he literally snapped and opened a portal to hell for a blood relative, and she thought of it as endearing. Although that might have been at least her split personalities."
"How can you do this to people?" asked Taha.
"Humans do far worse to each other," said Tamar with a shrug. "And you've gotten so good at it that you decided to try and cut us out of the universe we created. It's only natural for us to respond.
"If you'd tried the same stunt on a King, you'd have been executed or worse.
"Also, your city is going to be ashes for a while. But cities used to get burned down all the time. So it was bound to start happening again later.
"Sometimes you need a fire to burn out all the deadwood, or you get a worse one later. Alchara found that out the hard way.
"In any case, if you want to be my pet, I'm sure I can pick out a nice animal transformation for you. Maybe a dog, or cat, or even a human if you'd prefer it that way. I kind of like the idea of keeping this form on a leash.
"Now, your other option is to become my slave.
"It's similar in result, but you'll get a lot less luxury, and you'll have to earn your keep. But, well, slaves may have the ability to earn my favor. And my favor can be a very valuable thing.
"So, what'll it be?"
Taha considered her response, and there was only one possible answer. "...Go to hell."
"What did you just say?" asked Tamar, growling.
"I said go to hell," said Taha. "If you're going to kill me, do it. If you're going, trap me here until I go insane, fine. You're well on your way to doing it. You can do whatever you want with me because I can't do anything to stop you.
"Now you're pretending to give me a choice. But it doesn't matter my choice; you'll still be in control. If I say I want to be a pet, and you decide to use me as a maid, who am I going to take my grievance to?"
"I don't think you get what I'm saying, Taha," said Tamar. "I am a Goddess and can do whatever I want with you. No one will stop me.
"I'm merely giving you a choice out of courtesy."
"And what assurances do I have? You won't decide you want me as a pet if I choose to be a slave or the other way around?" asked Taha.
"You have none," said Tamar.
"Then why don't you just admit that, Tamar?" asked Taha simply. "You write the rules, and you change them when they aren't convenient for you. And I have no choice but to play along, or you'll do worse to me.
"You do whatever you want to do, Tamar. I'll do whatever you say.
"But no matter what you do or how powerful you are, you are no god."
Taha turned to look at Tamar, who met her gaze and held it for a moment. Taha felt her will contesting her own, and they pressed against one another. Finally, Tamar looked away. "...Ah, right, I'd forgotten that you've been clinging to this atheist delusion. You're talking about an imaginary Tamar. A sort of crazed stalker who is keeping you locked in a dark room and drugging you."
"You are keeping me in the dark room and drugging me," said Taha. "Maybe it's not a drug given through food or drink. But whether it's done by magic or by chemicals, the effect is the same.
"Does it really matter how you're giving me the thing that makes me hallucinate?"
"It's not a hallucination," said Tamar incredulously. "All of those things are real. You're just so dedicated to denying that they are real that you are attributing them to madness. I gave you this cell because you wanted to be in a cell so you'd be more comfortable.
"Your perception of me as a crazed stalker is the reason this is so unpleasant! This place could be a palace of flowing water and gardens. You could be sleeping on the softest beds and clad in silk, and yet you refuse to view me as anything but a jailor."
Taha stood up and dusted herself off. "Can I leave this place?"
"You'll leave when I say you can leave!" said Tamar.
"Then you are my jailor," replied Taha. "Whether the walls are painted a different color doesn't actually matter."
Tamar went flush, her cheeks bright red as she strove for words. "...I'm not going to debate this with you.
"You want me to pick for you, fine. Follow me."
And she turned to follow, and Taha had to walk behind her. It was second nature to obey Tamar as though she were a mere extension of her. Taha hurried after Tamar into a vast hall of gray stone with many horrific visions of horror on them. Pictures of human sacrifice, brutal bloodletting, and also a wind god clad in black armor.
Not Tamar, though he seemed to take up women from the ground.
"Who is it on these walls?" asked Taha.
"My Father," said Tamar. "Fortenex. Don't expect him to pay any visits while we're here. I became Goddess of the Eastern Winds by my own hand. Though I technically act as a proxy for the domain of winds and war in Themious.
"Even so, my power is growing, and soon I shall no longer be a vassal."
"That's uh... very impressive," said Taha, noticing pictures that were more peaceful. Many of them were covered in dust, however. "I don't recognize this architecture. None of these buildings were made in Themious or Tarasif or anywhere else I know." They seemed to be tree houses but very majestic in nature and elegantly carved. Taha saw a group of peasants, humans, laboring in fields with houses of stone, all under the gaze of proud elven warriors in shining males with curved swords.
Who were the green-skinned creatures the elves were fighting here, though? They were huge and muscular and seemed to spawn from cauldrons.
"Very good," said Tamar. "These are from ancient days, long ago.
"I had high hopes for you, you know.
"Although you've been quite useful without knowing it. You've done an excellent job of spreading the word about my techniques. My converts have increased greatly. You should be proud."
"What do you want me to do?" asked Taha.
Tamar shrugged. "I want you to clean this entire hall. Every inch of the floor and walls. Wash the ceiling."
"Can I have some tools?" asked Taha.
"Of course," said Tamar, and a bucket filled with water and a sponge appeared. "You don't think I'd expect you to do it with your bare hands, do you?"
"I wouldn't put it past you," said Taha.
"Look, I don't need you to do this, okay!" said Tamar, distressed. "I could clean it all with a sweep of my hand!
"But you wanted something to do with your time. I think this would be healthier than moping around in the darkness. This is for your benefit, not mine! This realm is created from your mindscape anyway, filtered through our connection.
"...Fine, whatever you say," said Taha.
Snatching up the tools, she got to work in bitterness. The dust and soot were far worse than they appeared. And the hall was huge so that there was still more of it every time she thought she'd finished it. Years of endless training. Including efforts trying to move herself to a position of influence. And this was how it ended. Or how it went on anyway.
It had always been this tedious. Climbing the ranks was just a distraction.
Taha doubted suicide was much of an option, so she just worked. As she did, she contemplated the reasons for the bloody visages. Why was she so focused on them? There were many more pleasant images here. Yet, she always ended up focusing on slaves and servants in them, for those were the humans.
Gradually she began to piece together a general story from them.
It was her own. Many times over.
Once upon a time, a servant girl dwelled in the palace of a mighty elf lord. Loyal and hardworking, she cleaned and did her duties perfectly. She was treated kindly and observed events as they happened. And all the while, she waited and dreamed of something more.
But she never got anything more.
No one ever considered her worthy of higher responsibilities, and no crisis ever arrived. None that she was in a position to help. And since elves had a much slower perception of time, events passed in the blink of an eye. She grew old and died alone.
And she was never noticed by anyone. On the contrary, her presence was hardly missed, for humans died so quickly.
"Not a very good beginning," noted Tamar. "You know, most people deviate from what they are supposed to do a little in their first life."
Taha finished the floor, only to realize there were many pieces of it in need of cleaning. And so she worked at it still and saw more of what had been.
Once upon a time, a servant girl dwelled in a castle, working to clean and cook. Yet though she worked hard and was kindly treated, she was beneath notice. Her attempts to impress her master only gained mild approval. And she feared growing old and die alone.
But the elves had a rule that men did not inhabit their domains. It was to prevent them from becoming populated by humans.
So, she decided to run away.
Gathering supplies, the girl escaped into the night. There she was immediately eaten by wolves. When the elves learned of it, they made no attempt at vengeance. Though unfortunate, one foolish human was worth far less than a majestic creature like a wolf.
"One wonders why the humans disliked them," noted Tamar.
Once upon a time, there was a human farmgirl who hated the elves. Yet, no opportunity for revenge ever presented itself. She was weaker than them, short-lived, and all the land was against them. To draw water, she had to bow and scrape to the good spirits.
They could not lay axes to any trees, and so their farmland was constantly decreasing. The Incarnation of the Land was their representative. Sometimes they arranged for the spirits to lay off. But he never pushed back, and so over the years, the lands of the humans shrank. Bitterness and rage were contained by fear until the day she died from a broken leg. She'd asked the wind to bring her help, but the elven guards did not care.
So she died alone.
"Living in fear is, more or less, what it means to be a slave," noted Tamar.
"Why am I a peasant in all of these?" asked Taha.
"The aristocracy is a very small part of the population," said Tamar simply. "And before Anoa the Bright, those who weren't aristocrats were bound to the land. Any attempt by a human to do anything was scrutinized."
"Who is Anoa the Bright?" asked Taha.
"You'd like him," said Tamar with a laugh.
Once upon a time, a human girl saw all hell break loose.
The Incarnation of the Land died in a far-off land. War and rumors of war came from the east, and the Gods themselves went at it. Dragons scorched the earth as blood ran in rivers across the world. But she was an ordinary person with no training or experience, and there was nothing she could do.
Her village was burned, she fled into the wilderness. No one came to help her, and she thirsted to death, begging a river spirit to give her water. And only the wind knew of it.
"I filled that river with corpses, you know," said Tamar. "It dried up completely."
"Thank you," said Taha.
Once upon a time, there were two servant girls that often dreamed that they were Princesses. Though they knew the only Princess was any daughter, the Queen would have. But, in time, the Queen ordered her friend killed.
The servant girl helped her escape and saw her of. And she dreamed that maybe she would be given some great role in things when she came back.
Nothing of the sort happened.
The Queen disappeared, and her friend never came back. Someone else took power, and she was forgotten—just a footnote in someone else's story.
Eventually, she was raped by the new Lord and forced to be his mistress.
"You um... you don't have to work nonstop," said Tamar. "If you want to take a break now and then, that's fine. I can also provide you with food and drink if you want. Though you really don't need to eat here."
Taha considered that. "Is this one of those stories where I accidentally bind myself here by eating your food?"
"No," laughed Tamar. "You're already bound here."
She was hungry and thirsty. "I'd like some bread and wine if you don't mind. I haven't eaten anything in a long time."
"Oh, yes, right, sure," said Tamar, motioning. "Go ahead and eat it; I won't rush you."
Taha did eat. As she did, she saw another story unfolding.
Once upon a time, there had been a warrior maiden of a large group of barbarian tribes. Free and proud, their lands faced incursion by hordes of satyrs. More than anything, she longed to die in glorious battle. All so she might be admitted into the warrior elite of Fortenex.
And so she joined her men in marching to war. But, rushing to face them in glorious battle, they were ambushed. She was shot in the back before she could even draw her sword. She died in a puddle of her own blood without even having a chance to strike a blow.
Then her friend, who no one took much notice of, was cut down as she stooped over the corpse. That was who Taha had been.
"Where is everyone else in this place anyway?" asked Taha, wolfing down her food. It was good.
"Oh, this is my personal domain. Or rather, your part of it," said Tamar. "No one comes here without my will. I mean, I guess there are the high heavens for my worshippers. They are a subdimension of my Father, Fortenex's domain.
"But I've only ever brought people up here who get my attention."
"And how many of them are there?" asked Taha.
Tamar paused. "Well, just you. My priestesses can come up here, but they do so as an extension of me.
"I mean, it's not like I like you or anything. You happened to be the first to get me legitimately angry," And she looked away.
Wonderful, so the psychotic monster has a crush on her. "Really?
"So of all the people who ever left your religion, I'm the one you decided to kidnap and torture."
"You're the only one who got as far as being a high priestess without even having a hint of belief in me," said Tamara. "Usually, you have to have some faith to get people to accept you as a priestess.
"How did you even do it anyway?
"I thought you were one of my most faithful subjects this time."
"Because I really wanted to learn to throw knives, obviously," said Taha. "When I learned from my instructors, I paid close attention and put my all into it. When I was at prayers, I performed them devoutly out of respect for them. My parents brought me up to never waste the time of one you want to learn from.
"It would have been disrespectful."
"Well, what about me?" asked Tamar. "What kind of respect did you show me?"
"I didn't think you existed," said Taha. "And I'd learned about everything your cult had to teach. I wanted to get some practical experience in using it."
"Well, that was a big mistake," said Tamar.
Taha drank the wine quickly. "Yes, I know.
"How did you even find me anyway? You waited years to come down and turn me into a slave?"
"You invoked me, obviously," said Tamar. "I knew where you were the entire time.
"I usually keep tabs on you. Heck, you were practically challenging me to come and prove to you that I existed. I'll bet you did it because you subconsciously wanted me to judge you."
"Well, that was a big mistake," said Taha.
"Faithlessness is a fate worse than death," said Tamar.
"For you, maybe," said Taha. "I had a good thing going back home, Tamar. I was the personal friend of a very powerful man. Nendas was on the verge of killing off his brat of a cousin and getting himself reinstated as heir. A few more days, and we'd have been very powerful."
"Yeah, why do you think I swept you off your feet so quickly?" asked Tamar. "You talk about kin slaying like it's nothing special. If things had gone as you'd hoped, you two would have become very evil, very fast."
"That's not true," said Taha.
"Oh really?" asked Tamar. "How many people have you assassinated on Samrasa's orders? Haven't you spent years helping to murder the faithful? Do you really think you'd have stopped once you got power?
"You're lucky I grabbed you.
"If I hadn't, you'd probably be somewhere a lot lower. Now you'd better get back to work."
Taha did get back to work.
Once upon a time, there was a Prince who had everything he could have ever wanted but was spoiled and vicious. One day, an old woman came to the door and asked for shelter from a wind storm. The Prince refused her because of her looks. But the beggar asked again and warned that beauty was only skin deep.
At this point, one of the servant girls decided there were two possibilities;
Either this person was what they appeared, or they were not. If they were an old beggar woman, she'd be dead soon anyway. But if she wasn't, then she was some kind of supernatural power, and they'd punish the whole castle.
The peasant did not want to pay the price for her Lord's stupidity, drew out a knife, and cut his throat. Then she opened the door for her, handed her the knife, and let her take the blame for it. The fairy was so surprised that she couldn't do much more than vanish in a flash, which did nothing to help her case.
At which point, the servant girl made a run for it and was immediately eaten by wolves.
"Why do I die in all of these," said Taha.
"Technically speaking, everyone who lives dies," said Tamar. "This was the life that really my attention. Before that, you were a curiosity."
"...What happened to Nendas?" asked Taha.
"Well, after I took you away, he contemplated murdering his cousin like you wanted him to," said Tamar. "But, Nendas could not bring himself to do it.
"But, once he refused to go all the way, his conscience caught up with him. Then he found out I'd taken you, and things got bad. He ended up wandering into the woods, having a complete breakdown.
"Fortunately for him, he's Jaha's pet."
"What do you mean by that? Nendas hates Jaha, even if he would never admit it," said Taha. "Being made the Avatar was the worst thing ever to him. His entire life fell apart because of it."
"That's unconditional love for you, Taha," said Tamar. "Jaha doesn't view him as an equal; she views him as a pet. When you have a pet cat, and you rub its belly too much, now and then, it scratches you. Well, Nendas' attempts to hurt her were about as significant as a cat that had been declawed.
"But Jaha doesn't see people. She sees excuses for why they are bad."
Taha didn't care, but Tamar seemed to want to talk about it. Play along. "What do you mean?"
"Well, if you have someone who murdered a man for money, I'd order him hung," said Tamar. "But Jaha would say that the murderer was really a victim. After all, he'd never have needed to kill someone for money if he'd had the money to live on. And he'd have had the money to live on if he hadn't had such an anger problem. And if he'd not been hit by his father, then he'd never have had that anger problem.
"Etc, etc, etc.
"People are not the result of their choices to Jaha. Everyone is simply a passive observer in their own life story, a victim of original sin."
"So what's going to happen to Nendas?" asked Taha.
"My guess?" asked Tamar. "She's going to keep him like that forever. Usually, people get to reincarnate now and then after a time in hell. But Nendas isn't in hell; he's wrapped up warm in the arms of a goddess. One which will never forget or abandon him. She will never get angry with him or make him suffer consequences in any way.
"Nothing he can do can hurt or alienate her, and she'll never stop tending to him. And as one of her favorites, she'll never release him. Eventually, he'll just be a passive observer in the body of a loyal hawk."
"Why would he be one of her favorites?" asked Taha. "They couldn't be more different."
"Because he's the antithesis of what she wants her followers to act like," said Tamar. "Remember, committing grave sins to her is just being a victim. So in her mind, Nendas's actions are not a result of willful malice but rather of being confused and deluded. And a danger to himself and others.
"And, to be honest, I think she's infatuated with him.
"But she'd never have the guts to just flat out make him her slave. And, frankly, I think she gets a thrill from feeling his spirit break. So instead, she'll keep him safe, loved, and helpless for all eternity."
Taha looked down and thought about what to do.
And she saw another life.
Her life.
She was old.
Her body was fresh and new, but her spirit was ancient. Most mortals found their place by the time of their third life. To have gone through this many was unheard of.
She'd been hollowed out. No youth or zest for life remained. Every attempt to be something or something had ended the same way. And she was kept here, torn between a fear of damnation and hatred of heaven. All that inflamed her passions anymore was raw, brutal violence.
She tried to tell herself it would be better to live a simple life. For that life had not been bad at all, unlike the others. She was the daughter of a major landowner; she'd marry someone of great influence. Yet, it meant nothing to her.
The world was counterfeit and worthless.
Taha now found that her happy surroundings were intolerable to her. She held no grudge against those around her, but she couldn't bear to remain with them. Their existence galled her, knowing she should care for them, but didn't. And so she left, abandoned everything to seek meaning in some way.
If she was to die, then at least she could die free of distractions.
Had she been seeking meaning in the cults she visited? Or was she seeking some means to triumph over the gods?
But it did not matter.
She was nothing.
Just a lens. Light that shone through her could be seen and perhaps change by the angle. But there was no light within her. There was no love to give; the fuel had burned out long ago in endless, hopeless hours of waiting in humiliation. And now, the same was happening to Nendas.
She could not let it happen.
"....I need to help him," said Taha suddenly.
"You need to finish the job I gave you," said Tamar. "I'm not Jaha. You're not going to get infinite understanding from me combined with a pat on the head. You took advantage of me before and became a professional murderer, so now you get to be my slave.
"And believe me, it could have been far worse. I heard Melchious took an interest in Nendas' operations."
"Melchious?!" asked Taha, voice horrified. "He... he's real too."
"Yeah. And whatever stories you've heard about, they are true," said Tamar.
"...Can I..." Taha halted and then bowed. "May I ask a favor, Queen Tamar?"
"I like being called Queen. What is it?" asked Tamar, smiling.
"Could you send a message to Rokas in my hometown," said Taha. "Tell him... tell him what has happened to Nendas. I mean, I want to get away from this, but... Nendas has it so much worse."
"He's already busy planning to storm the gates of the Underworld, I believe," said Tamar. "But I'll tell him what is going on, on one condition."
"Yes?" asked Taha.
"No escape attempts," said Tamar. "They won't work anyway. Are we agreed?"
Taha nodded. "...Yes."
"Great," said Tamar before motioning. "Here's your collar and cat ears."
Taha felt a tingling and struggled as she found ears growing from the top of her head. Struggling, she found a collar at her neck with a bell. At the same time, a tail grew from behind her back. "Get this off me!"
"Nah, I like the way you look with cat ears and a tail," said Tamar. "Now keep working; I'll have food sent to you soon enough. I've got some visitors to meet."