Skylar followed Bashette out of the throne room as the woman of color not much older than Skylar listened to the concerns of men, who seemed to think they had unlimited access to the labors of the woman of color on the throne. She couldn't believe how they all knelt before her but then asked for her to make decisions on what crop should be grown, how they should resolve an argument between two businesses or people, and if she would bless their son or daughter.

Skylar was also more than slightly annoyed with Bashette. The taller, pale skinned woman had just stood up and left the throne room without a word, humming a tune to herself, pausing briefly to touch Jack on the cheek and smile at him. She could not understand the disrespect that the alabaster skinned Bashette had shown her darker skinned sister, merely nodding to her as she left.

Skylar felt disgusted at the obvious privilege that the paler Bashette was exerting over her darker sister, just because Western beauty values had been forced upon them.

Bashette pushed open the doors, stained glass done in a pattern of a winged angel in full armor holding a burning sword, letting daylight flood into the hall. Beyond was a garden with inlaid stone paths and a fountain up ahead. Sitting beside the fountain was a boy with a round moon face who had his head in the lap of a woman who was reading from a book.

"That it my little brother Yarvin. He is sunny and easily frightened," Bashette told Skylar. "He is a jewel of our house, who's mind will be that of a child all of his days," Bashette turned and stared at Skylar with a blue glow in her eyes and white fire running up and down her neck. "Should you harm him I will burn you alive, am I understood?"

Skylar swallowed thickly, nodding, understanding that the child was neuro-atypical and that he was mentally differently-abled.

"With that clear, there is another thing you should know, little one," Bashette said. When she was sure that Skylar was paying attention she gave a heaving sigh. "Yarvin's safety and comfort is the duty of your two friends. The Black Rider carries a shield to guard him and wields his sword to protect those like Yarvin. More than that, your friend Little-Jak is a Titan, and every Titan, no matter how foul and dark the deeds, will spill blood in the defense or in vengeance of one who is sunny. The dead gods themselves charged those who are Titan blooded with that duty."

Skylar frowned, wondering if the pale woman thought that she would do something to harm a little boy who was marginalized by his disabilities.

"With that, little one, I wish to show you something," Bashette said. "Are you ready?"

Skylar nodded and gasped as she suddenly saw the raw white fire fill the intricate patterns beneath Bashette's skin. She saw Bashette gather power from within herself, from the burning fire inside of her, and wave her hand.

The single path suddenly branched into three.

Bashette pointed at the path on the left. "That, little one, is the path of the Black Rider."

Skylar was tempted to flinch back from what she could see on the path. Shadowy figures with swords that dripped blood, archers who stood with arrows ready, pleading men and women, frightened children in need of rescue. The path was awash with blood, broken armor and weapons, and looked to Skylar to be dangerous.

"The path winds back, crosses yours, runs along with it at times, but his path is his own and the shattered destiny that still shudders through our worlds have carved out a road for him," Bashette said. She turned and motioned at the right hand path.

Skylar just stared. The path seemed to go on forever, twisting and turning, weaving in between strange buildings with unfamiliar architecture. People smiled with daggers half-hidden that dripped with venom, others stared in anger but their hands held pieces of candy, still others held collars and some held chains.

"That is Little Jak's path. As much as one such as I can see," Bashette said softly. "It is dangerous to look down a Titan's path for those on the path may look back at you."

Bashette gestured and the path was suddenly obscured by bushes. She pointed at the middle path.

Skylar could see the path, see magic running down the cobbles, see people off all different skin tones and sizes, some with beards who were obviously women, some effeminate looking males. She could see people flush with mage-fire and war-fire, see hints of runes that whispered secrets.

"Your path," Bashette said.

Skylar could see Bashette on the path. Holding a book open with a smile, kneeling down with a jar of some kind of cream, laughing with joy, several versions of her flush with the white fire under her skin.

"You can undoubtedly see me," Bashette said softly. She put her hand on the girl's shoulder, ignoring how she flinched. "While Matron Stelencia is a powerful and learned woman, I surpassed her skills decades ago, even before I was bound upon the black iron cross as part of the Chorus of Night."

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Bashette waved her hand and the paths pulled back together, going back to a single path bordered by shaped and tended planets, the fountain, the woman, and the young man visible again.

"We are bound together, you and I. Not yet as sisters, but you are my child now as much as if you were from my womb," Bashette said, turning from the garden's center and walking down a side path the circled the garden. She motioned to Skylar. "Follow, little one. You would confuse Yarvin right now and he is going to sleep in his maid's lap. Too much stimulation can leave him upset and confused and I care for him deeply."

Skylar was startled to realize that she believed the other woman's words. The affection in her voice was real, as was the stern tone in the warnings.

"Follow, little one," the older woman commanded.

Despite her anger and resentment Skylar followed, still feeling outraged at the way the other woman's clothing clung to her, emphasizing her hips, exposing her long muscular legs, showing off her lower back. Skylar didn't consider herself a prude, after all, she supported Free the Nipple and desexualizing women, but she knew that the woman was just dressing for the male gaze.

Bashette could feel Skylar's outrage, a simmering fire on her senses, not directed at her, not really, but almost as if she was angry on Bashette's behalf.

Foolish child, you know nothing of me yet you are so presumptuous as to feel outrage and anger on the behalf of one such as I? Bashette thought to herself. She gave no hint, instead moving over to a stone bench and sitting down.

A servant stepped from behind the bushes.

"Refreshments, milady?" he asked.

"Please, Arnur," Bashette said, smiling. "Some Alben cheese and some wine from the Lands of the Efreet, if you would be so kind."

"Of course, milady," the man, Arnur, said, making a motion that looked to Skylar like an off balance curtsy.

It looked strange to Skylar.

"A few things, little one," Bashette said, reaching out and tapping Skylar's leg with one pointed nail with shimmering nail polish coating it.

Skylar looked at the other woman and frowned.

Bashette smiled. "I served with several armies during my time in The War," she said. Skylar could hear the capital letters in the words. "The Stygian Wave, for one, the Armies of Light until I was captured, for another," she paused, looking up at the blue sky, focusing on the Walk of the Gods.

So what? Skylar was almost about to ask her out loud when Bashette continued speaking.

"I served with Xue'nghozi. Saw their Battle-Lords, guided and empowered by their War Witches, saw them fight, saw them dance and sing, saw they live and love," Bashette said softly. She gave a slight shiver and Skylar noticed with slight disgust that the older woman's nipples had hardened beneath the sheer cloth. "Felt their cool hands, warmed only by their war-fire, caress my skin as the cold lips of the War-Witches grazed my flesh, warming it with their mage-fire."

Skylar recoiled slightly in disgust.

Bashette smiled, a slight cruel cast around the eyes. "Are you untouched? Your womb-shield unbreached? Have you never lain beneath a lover, your hands caressing the welts you yourself clawed into his back and gazed into his eyes as he jerked and filled your belly?"

Skylar flushed deeply, making a noise of disgust.

Bashette laughed. "Do you prefer a woman's touch? Feel her soft lips against your own, feel the tips of her breasts rub yours?"

Skylar didn't react with revulsion, just shook her head. She knew that there was nothing disgusting about women being with women, that it was perfectly natural and normal, missing the toxic masculinity and the bonds of the patriarchy.

Bashette could sense the young woman's inner revulsion that she covered with some kind of internal mantra but let no hint of it show on her face.

She was a child, unable to shield herself any more than she could control her power.

The servant arrived, setting down a silver tray chased with some type of sparkling black metal that seemed to glimmer and flow to Skylar's eyes. Bashette poured two thin wine flutes full of wine, handing Skylar one. When Skylar reached for it Bashette pulled it back.

"That shows me that despite what the Phaelani thought, you, little one, are not one of the Xue'nghozi. No Xue'nghozi would take a glass of wine from another without first waiting for them to sip at it first," Bashette said. She smiled wider. "Next lesson, little one. Let your eyes unfocus and gaze into the wine."

Skylar remembered this, remember it was to bring up her mage sight. She let her eyes unfocus and looked at the clear wine.

She gasped at what she saw. A strange worm of glowing energy that looked disgusting as it twisted in the crystal clear wine, moved beneath what looked like snowflakes suspended in the wine.

"Ah, you see it," Bashette said.

Skylar nodded, still recoiled slightly, staring in horror at the worm that writhed within the wine.

"Should you have drank the wine, you would have had an hour or so and then a terrible bout of flatulence and diarrhea that would have left you in bed playing the butt trumpet for most of the night as you hurried to the chamber pot and back," Bashette said softly. She tapped the two glasses and the worm dissolved into sparkles that dropped through the bottom of the glass and dissolved in midair right before they touched the tile.

"You will check every drink, every morsel of food, every bite of candy," Bashette said. "At intervals of my choice I will cast spells that will discomfort and embarrass you should you consume them, from making all your hair fall out to turning your skin blue to giving you a bad case of goblin-gut to giving you a unibrow and so much pubic hair that putting on underwear will look like a forgekin stuffing his beard into a sock."

Skylar's lower lip trembled as she realized that woman was threatening to torture her.

"This will become habit for you, little one, and, I hope, will someday save your life," Bashette said gently. She held out the glass. "Drink, little one, and let us discuss things."

Skylar knew that she would not receive any bottled water, rarely any juice, so she took the wine flute and sipped at it.

The wine was cool, crisp, and felt good on her tongue, felt good as she swallowed. It seemed to ease the burning in her chest.

"Ice grape wine, from the Lands of the Efreet. Have faith in me, little one, I will teach you things you must know," Bashette said.

She held up a piece of cheese and Skylar reached for it, almost forgetting, bringing up her sight at the last second.

A small snake sat atop of it.

"Next lesson, little one," Bashette said, smiling. She held out the cheese. "How to dispel that without anyone noticing, letting you eat and drink without hinting you even knew they were trying to embarrass or harm you, frustrating your enemies and rivals."

Skylar nodded, eager to learn, eager to pay back those who had wronged her.

Bashette smiled.