Riding on Voukey’s back, Edmon scanned the Wandering River for the royal boat that Princess Tal’tamine would be on. Yet, despite the Jukal’s sharp eyes and echo-like searching abilities, they couldn’t find a trace of it crashed along the shores or below the waves.
His jaw tightened upon casting his gaze to the north, where the Flex Clan had held a large chunk of land; a small portion of it was now on fire, making him curse.
Noa was doing her best to temper the unstable supervolcano that could erupt at any point. Still, she had to release stress somewhere, and certain areas would be unavoidably changed from the spewing molten rock and toxic vapor.
Is there still no sight of a ship on the riverbed?
Voukey’s soundless cries that Edmon couldn’t hear scanned the waters they flew over, his deep tone somber. “I regret to inform you, High Lord, the wreckages I have found long predate the evidence of recent destruction. I suspect most of what my song reveals is the product of what the Ri’bot term ‘the Fire Wars.’”
Hmm… or the time before that with the Eight Great Nations driving the Quen’Talrat back to their city and taking control of the riverway. Still, for us to not find her even this far from Nethermore…
“Indeed. Most concerning; High Lord, we near our borders.”
Edmon caught sight of the tall, black Quen’Talrat watch tower atop the sheer cliffs leading out of the valley as Voukey tilted upwards slightly to give them a better view.
Unintelligent undead fish were stationed in the gap, waiting to rush upstream to signal the unintelligent runners of an approaching large vessel, and he hadn’t sensed them move out of position; the mindless drones could only follow simple instructions, but there were ways to create an alert system that Tiffany had set up.
Blue fog streamed out of his face guard as he let Voukey handle the search below them, turning his focus to the various waterways; the Wandering River was so massive that it easily handled ocean boats and many of its branches could even support a U.S. warship.
With Seaweavers powering it, they’re basically on a steamboat, and if they have enough to alternate in shifts, they could have taken any of these routes, but… No, they likely didn’t come into the valley if they didn’t trigger our sentries, which means we need to go into the various Ri’bot territory outside of the valley.
The morning sun peeking over the mountains left a glistening, diamond hue in a colossal crater that caught Edmon’s attention; it almost seemed as if it had been the detonation site of a massive bomb.
Making a note of the shimmering black walls, Edmon had Voukey fly higher to get a better view of the possible directions a large vessel could have taken, settling on Lake Menifil in the distance.
We’ll pick up our pace close to the river; there’s no need to be thorough since the damage should be recent enough to leave wreckage, but, if she left from Shi’Shuka, this mysterious party would’ve had to redivert the ship to the west to escape notice.
“I see the location,” Voukey hummed, entering a dive to return to the water’s surface. “I may have scouts in the area; the Empress had me gather many spies in the Nalvean lands, yet I sent some to gain an understanding of the borders.”
A grin lifted the corner of Edmon’s lip. How close do you need to be to hear a report?
“I am unfortunately required to be no more than two kilometers from these types of birds, High Ruler; they do not have the vocal reach of Jukal.”
All we need is to know if a large ship passed by.
“I will make haste!”
Edmon lowered himself on Voukey’s back as his wings beat to increase their speed, and, in their rapid passing, he spotted many of the small Ri’bot Clans along the river’s edge going about their daily routine. Still, something else drew his notice—tiny boats—groups of Ri’bot making their way into the valley.
The Jukal chuckled in their bullet-like flight. “It would appear, High Lord, that our Empress’ awakening has drawn the curiosity of the lesser creatures.”
Hmm. Some will join us, no doubt, expanding Nethermore’s borders, yet it would be foolish to believe many won’t gather into an army as word and religion spread and threaten their way of life… Not that it will make much difference in the end.
“Haha! Most certainly, High Lord. It is most amusing to see their hubris.”
Such is the struggle of the living… Edmon’s voice lowered as Voukey made a wide arc across Menifil’s vast surface area to ensure the royal vessel hadn’t been sunk when entering open waters. All will fall to their knees or have them broken.
Not finding any sign of the craft, they made a hard shift to the western branch, and Voukey made contact with a flock of birds in the area, tightening Edmon’s mouth at the report.
“A large vessel of the Nalveans was spotted not long ago, throwing fish up and causing a commotion among the local aviary groups to utilize it to their advantage; the flocks left behind had their fill.”
How long precisely?
“It is most unfortunate, High Ruler; they do not understand such terms.”
Once again, the Empress was right; Demon is busy. We have our direction then.
“The chase begins!”
Edmon’s grip tightened around Voukey’s neck, dispersing his armor in an attempt to lessen his weight as much as possible as the large northern predator rocketed in the sky to reach faster air currents since the boat had been confirmed to still be intact.
A trail of green light followed the Jukal’s tail as he navigated through the heavens, far sharper vision searching for their target, and, at a branch, he spotted the ship, moving to enter a dense jungle riverway that would have obscured them in another twenty kilometers.
Entering a nose dive, Edmon held tightly to Voukey’s unmitigated fall until he unfurled his wings for the sharp pressure of their sudden stop to strike his chest, yet his phenomenal defenses cushioned the blow as the kingly bird’s talons bit into the side of the boat to a roar of panic from the soldiers on the deck.
Edmon jumped off Voukey’s back as the bird let a clarion note ring in the air, stunning everyone on the deck; armor and shield formed out of crystal to send ice shattering across the planks, and he landed on his feet, observing the area through the azure frost leaking out of his helmet’s eye sockets.
Not one white-scaled Nalvean?
“It appears so, High Lord,” Voukey confirmed, head swiftly tilting to the side as his gaze shot to the cabin in the back. “Humans, High Lord?”
Edmon’s head shifted to the left, gripping his shield straps as the crew and soldiers recovered. How many?
“Two.”
A large, black-scaled Nalvean holding a halberd was the first to regain his bearing, moving to meet him barely a second after their arrival; he was among one of the High Ruler’s personal guards, thereby one of the strongest combatants of their military.
“High Lord Edmon, that was… an entrance—ah, I’m Malikar—I’ve been tasked with the princess’ security. I… wasn’t made aware you would be escorting us yourself. Has something occurred in Nethermore? We… heard and felt that strange song from Shi’Shuka. Is the Empress well?”
Edmon’s eyes narrowed from within his helmet at his greeting; the light golden glow around his irises was new. Remaining cautious, he decided to test the waters in the case of foul play. “The Empress grew concerned for the Princess’ safety. Why would you be on the deck and not with Tal’tamine?”
“Hmm? Ah, luckily, we came across two humans that have been quite helpful…” His brow furrowed, the yellow ring around his grey irises shimmering. “I… do not know why I am here. We heard that plans had changed to spirit the princess to…”
He trailed off as the door to the cabin opened to reveal a man and woman, looking somewhat annoyed, but they instantly changed their tune once seeing the colossal bird and Edmon talking to Malikar.
Edmon swiftly scrutinized the smiling, lovely pair; both were toned, tan, and had thick, black hair that fell to their lower backs, yet even as he watched, the two began to haze. He refused to blink, and in the next second, Elinor took the man’s place with the woman becoming Tiffany.
Striding forward, Elinor hummed, looking between them. “It seems you have finally arrived. Excellent.”
Turning, Edmon’s grip tightened against his shield as a charm sank deeply into his extremely high resilience, yet failed after a moment, causing the illusions to waver.
“Glorious, Empress!” Voukey happily chirped, giving her a bow as the golden sparkle illuminated his sharp eyes. “Your unquestionable powers and speed never cease to amaze your humble servant!”
Edmon’s shield vanished as ice flooded his veins and he slowly walked up the steps to meet the two; if they were powerful enough to affect him, even if only slightly, and control Voukey, their threat was beyond measure.
Tiffany’s iconic smirk wavered as the woman appeared to catch on first. “What did you do, lose—that’s not… Kill the imp—”
Unfortunately for whoever these were, the Undead followed a direct and unbreakable law woven into their very spirit, and they were not a part of that chain of command.
Voukey, I order you to knock everything nearby unconscious, including the Empress and Tiffany.
“High Lord Edmon! I could never…”
To the aviary lord’s utter bewilderment and horror, he opened his beak and did as he was told. “Sleep.”
A pulse of sonic waves rippled the air that shattered the vessel’s windows and fractured parts of the planks as it traveled to those below deck.
Malikar braced himself, jaw locking in a short stumble with the two humans, now reverting to even more beautiful and handsome versions of their previous form, yet their genders reversed.
Reaching the man that dared to try and animate their Empress, Edmon’s gauntlet closed around his neck as he lifted him into the air and continued without breaking stride to the recovering woman; he was already practically unconscious from Voukey’s attack, in any case.
“What—are you doing, High Lord?!” Malikar roared, the only remaining soldier standing as he launched forward to be met by Voukey’s wing, shaking free from the charm in the disruption. “This is… Who…”
Voukey seemed as stunned as Malikar. “What have I done!? No… this is—High Lord Edmon, instruct this small brain of his error—have I been deceived?”
The woman took a step back, holding her ringing ears as she swayed; naturally, if Voukey believed he was actually facing the Undead, he wouldn’t have held back, and blood ran down their ears, showing just how resilient they were to have taken the Mythic Grade bird’s full cry.
“The audacity… to attempt to usurp the Empress’ will and turn us… turn her devout court against her—you will answer to the Empress herself for such crimes,” he snarled.
Unlike the already unconscious man, the woman appeared to have more grit, throwing her hand to the side to summon a tidal wave, engulfing the ship. “What… are you—”
Ignoring the flood that tilted the vessel and gave him a slight sense of vertigo, Edmon darted forward with her in mid-gesture; his grip found her throat to tighten and lift her to join the man, breaking the realistic illusion.
“Your trickery will not work on me, Witch…”
Edmon’s teeth locked together as her fingers closed around his arm, steeling his nerves at the illusions of his arm breaking apart; gagging with her tricks fading away, she continued to kick and beat at his armor, unlike the male that had been incapacitated quickly by Voukey’s mind-shattering attack.
“Feisty, I’ll give you that.”
“You’re… making a huge—mistake…” she gasped, attempting to keep herself up with her quivering arms as the frost covering her body sapped the woman’s strength.
It became apparent the raven-haired beauty she’d been taking the appearance of before had been a disguise, as well. Guise simmering, it revealed an aurelian-eyed woman with wine-colored hair and full lips; the clothing she wore was something strange—although, at least her tight, black leather pants were recognizable—her droptail top, green, glittery, and woven into gold accessories.
The woman’s struggles soon ceased, her vision drifting to the yellow-eyed man who wore simple leather hide from beasts that had been sewn together; he certainly was handsome, yet not nearly as exotic as the female.
Encasing them in sealing ice, Edmon grunted while tossing them to the stunned Nalvean elite warrior. “You were placed under a charm by these two.”
Malikar put a hand to his head, a low growl in his throat as he breathed. “How… did they manipulate us so easily—where are we, High Lord Edmon?”
“Deep into Ri’bot territory; I can’t tell you your destination. In any case, I will be taking Princess Tal’tamine the rest of the way to Nethermore with these prisoners. If you wish, you may journey the rest of the way to Nethermore, or report your findings to the High Ruler.”
His nose twitched with agitation, Malikar glared at the two humans, contempt in his voice as he hissed, “I am… hesitant to give anyone the princess after witnessing such… trickery. How do I know you are not one of these illusions sent to confuse me?”
Edmon drew in a long breath before releasing it in a long stream of fog. “If it makes you feel better, we will take her by force to prove it, and you may turn this ship around to find her in Nethermore. What will it be?”
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Malikar’s tight expression shifted to the unconscious soldiers collapsed throughout the deck and the fact no one was coming below to investigate. “Hmm. It may be pointless, but I expect if what I sense to be true, you will not falter at my strike!”
Edmon raised his defenses in an instant as he told Voukey to hold his peace, and crimson markers flaring to light on his dark armor; he allowed the man’s electrified halberd to smash through the crystal shell that surrounded him to meet his guarded neck, where all kinetic and elemental energy was dissipated.
Reaching up to push it away, he chuckled with Malikar. “Satisfied?”
“Hehe. Your armor is as legendary as I have heard, High Lord of Nethermore. I have failed my duty in protecting the princess… Never did I suspect my entire platoon would be compromised by such tricks. Please, bring the princess to safety, High Lord; I place my charge in your hands, and will confirm it with my own eyes.”
Finding respect for the man in the exchange, Edmon made the signal across his chest that he’d learned from his time in Shi’Shuka. “I expect to see you in Nethermore by the end of the day, Lieutenant of Shi’Shuka. Princess Tal’tamine will be safe in the palace.”
After getting the warrior’s nod, Edmon proceeded into the room the pair had left, hoping after all their effort they hadn’t slain the girl, but—to his relief—she seemed to be in some unnatural sleep in a bed. She, her guardian, and the High Ruler’s trusted advisor had been rendered unconscious by Voukey by their sprawled positions.
“Humph.”
Carefully exiting with the large salamander princess, securely in his arms, Edmon placed her on Voukey’s back so he could hold her in place.
Malikar sighed upon seeing the girl still breathing—if shallowly—before turning a dirty look at the two tricksters. “What will come of these two fiends?”
Edmon smirked as Voukey tossed the floating, chained blocks of ice into the water with a beat of his wing before swinging around and plucking them out of the river with his talons. “The Empress is not kind to those that stand against her, and we will discover the plot they intended for your princess.”
“Mmgm. I look forward to what you discover; Klaus has shown himself to be most… persuasive to the traitors we’ve found.”
“Hmm-hmm. I’m sure he has. We will expect your arrival!” Edmon shouted as Voukey jumped off the side to take to the air, and making a tight circle, he snatched the sealed prisoners up before returning to their Empress.
* * *
Hands held behind her back, Elinor casually proceeded through the empty hallways of her palace to the basement levels, scanning the partially restored and slightly modified artwork of the Quen’Talrat that her little creative Thélméthra had added her touch to.
It certainly is fascinating to see how swiftly they’re growing; typically, their species cares little for such activities, considering the arts are not a part of their conquest agenda, but the connection they share to the Nexus opens them up to a melting pot of cultural norms they’re new to… including hate.
Her focus moved beyond the walls of Nethermore to stare down at where her Spider Queen was conducting her search. Demon cannot be the only entity at work stirring up trouble. He will bring more trouble to any given conflict, but what other forces are at work around my Empire?
Proceeding to the kitchen, Elinor couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight that met her.
“How predictable.”
Thor sat on a stool and a loaded table that seemed to just barely keep stocked as the God of Thunder savagely chewed his way through platter after platter the servers brought; it was all hands on deck, with Antonietta directing amateur cooks that wanted to study under her on the colossal Quen’Talrat equipment.
Greetings were sent when she entered, and Elinor held up a hand in acknowledgment on her way to sit on the opposite side of the Primordial’s welcome banquet. “I must say, for taking on mortal form, you have an unbridled appetite, Odinson.”
Thor downed his glass in one go with a loud laugh. “Irkalla! Haha! I was not to believe such a feast from thee; my experience with thy people hath been scant tables so deprived of refreshment for weary travelers through thy Realm that it bordered on insult!”
A woman with a strained smile at their comment refilled his cup, many jugs neatly placed in a row by her feet and causing Elinor to rest her chin on the back of her hand as she watched him stuff his face.
“Hmm-hmm. I expect if all Primordials eat so merrily, it may have emptied out their stores. It appears Loki’s magic, hehe, hasn’t translated your immortal appetite to the moral realm, Thor. Eat your fill—oh, done just as I arrive?” she questioned as he placed his half-empty mug to scrutinize her.
“Mmh, no, I believe I am ready for the main course thy competent cook hath been so eagerly preparing to be sampled. No, I just had to congratulate thyself for the fact thou seemest to have found thy raiments; it hath been quite the discomfort to gaze upon thy child-like nakedness.”
“W-What?” the woman filling his glass squeaked, seemingly able to understand the obscure Nordic language because of her faith.
“Ahh!” Elinor’s smirk lifted a tad, understanding now the deeper reason why he’d been so hesitant to look at her; he didn’t want to go back to Sif and tell her he’d been trouncing around with a naked, teenage girl. “Teenage only in form, perhaps, Thor, but you will get a full view of just how I should look after I open the heavens.”
“Ack… Doth thou wish my death by the hands of my wife, Irkalla? Thy jests blacken my mind with shame by just thy words,” he mumbled from behind his mug, ears turning red.
Oh, Thor, if only you weren’t so simple to tease, I wouldn’t exploit it!
Selecting a few of the cut fruits from a nearby dish, Elinor twisted it around, adding a playful twist to her eyes. “Was it not my nakedness that brought on this truce, Thor?”
“Eghck!” he choked on his drink, pounding his chest as she held up a long, curved item that resembled a banana, yet his face only turned more scarlet with her thoughtful hum and words.
“I’m sure this will be quite the tale to report to Baldr and Loki—your trickster of a brother is sure to get a laugh out of it—but what of Sif… Thor and Ereshkigal, set to fight a battle to the death by their shared foe, hehe…
“Only for the mighty God of Thunder to disintegrate the maiden’s clothing, taming the beast’s rage inside to allow negotiation to be had. Hmm. Should I be a goddess of beauty now, or was it by my naked ‘child-like’ appearance that you were stalled by, Fearless Hero?”
“W-Why must thy words always carry such—such insinuations, Lady? Be it thy alien culture that gives rise to such—such depravity in mind! Sif must not hear of our journey from thy snake-like tongue, Irkalla! Thou art sure to cause strife where none be had!”
“Haha! No, no, no, Thor!” Elinor laughed, her little snake exiting the fold to snicker with her. “I am positive Sif and I will have a very lovely chat together about your, hmm-hmm-hmm, behavior to our ‘long’ and ‘laborious’ journey. I have even recruited three more girls to join us!”
Thor leaned over as if he had a stomach ache. “T-Three more of thy perverted court, no doubt! Irkalla, doth thou have a hidden desire for my Sif’s fury to put me in my grave? Perhaps Asgard and Mesopotamia cannot be united…”
“Haha! Come now, Thor; no need to be melodramatic; they’re understudies of mine, and I believe you will have a fine time supporting a young upstart God looking for a role model to follow.”
The man’s gleaming turquoise irises didn’t leave her smile, and it seemed she’d successfully curved his appetite; once again, flawless victory. “Thy hath brought a lad to such a quest?”
“I do need a few spirits that can channel my family’s power, as we are dealing with Gods here, Thor; naturally, I would be most comfortable by having those I most trust by my side. Plus, the boy that will join us has his sister and betrothed in the party; my handmaiden, in fact. See! No hidden agenda. Hmm-hmm.”
“Humph. Thou meanest for me to doubt such a comment,” he grunted, yet a spark lit in his bright gaze.
“Hmm… A boy fighting to become a man; to show himself worthy of his betrothed, and her desire to support him in his trial?” Thor questioned, interest now piqued. “Thou intendest them to reach into the Divine in this quest; thou hath screened them of their worthiness?”
“Of course, I expect you to determine if they meet your expectations; after all, they will be the ones to slow our journey, but their addition grants us the support of my children when we inevitably require it… Forethought,” she beamed, tapping the side of her head.
“Indeed. Companions with varying skills to do that which thyself cannot are most welcome on quests of such magnitude, and I will not deny support in rescuing my brothers… Thou hath given them a choice?”
“I am no lover of fate, Thor,” Elinor whispered, examining the fruit in her hand with a frown. “I offered them a destiny that they could grasp and told them of the risks; however, I do not offer chances to people I know will reject the chance I give… Such a thing is pointless and a waste of my time, which wastes Irkalla’s time. Everything I do is a reflection on the land I rule.”
The man crossed his muscular arms as he studied her. “Hmm… Thou art a peculiar bag of uncertainty in my eyes, Irkalla… So unlike the Gods I knew, I am left to wonder what thy true appearance is, and if thou differs from the Ereshkigal of the Lower Realms.”
An entertained giggle shook Elinor’s chest; as intelligent as he may be, he didn’t seem to learn. “Already imagining my ‘true’ naked body, hmm?”
“What nonsense… Ugh.”
Elinor’s mirth grew into laughter as he slumped over the table to hold a fist to his flushed face.
“Thou wouldst be the death of me; by Odin’s beard, Irkalla, thou hath no filter.”
“Hehehe. It wasn’t me who brought up my true appearance!”
“I did not bring up thy nakedness!”
“Yet, heh, you are imagining it now! Aren’t you?”
“I needest to relieve myself—damn thee, do not say it!” Thor shot at her impish grin and shrug as he realized the connection.
“Hmm? I don’t think I need to anymore. Hehe. By all means, Lord of Thunder, relieve yourself. I will have my butler guide you to the, hmm-hmm, appropriate area.”
“I do hope it be the appropriate area,” he mumbled in defeat, ears bright red as Elinor sent a message to James Escobedo, her Head Butler, to support him.
Crossing her legs and leaning against the table, Elinor saw the flushed face of the human woman as she retreated with a cart filled with the empty pitchers now that she had a moment.
Breaking the ice with Thor by teasing him is all well and good, but I need a new angle soon; adding a boy he can see his own son in will strengthen Sal’s survival chances—and it will have a domino effect on his family—then again, the girlfriend will need some work.
On the other hand, Valentina has the added benefit of being stretched by the Seed, which should be enough for the initial process. Her example could spark a rivalry in the girlfriend.
Elinor’s vision narrowed as she gradually sampled some of the fruit while following the busy kitchen staff; she’d bought them a bit of time to slow down to perfect their dishes for when Thor cooled off.
Adoncia is the only real concern that I may be pushing… Even with my Seed’s support as a Maid and the practice she’s been doing on her own to try and build her strength to keep her brother safe, will it be enough? A Goddess not of my blood could be testing… especially her. Hmm. We’ll see.
Her attention moved to the west when Edmon and Voukey seemed to have found what happened to the princess; Thor was back, eating and trying to avoid any jabbing jokes she made to further break the enemy sigma they’d first met on.
The hours of the day passed and the Staff of the Dead continued to draw in Life Energy, yet Elinor’s attitude iced over as her Doom Guard informed her of his encounter.
Rising to her feet, Elinor moved to the door, catching Thor’s notice as she motioned for him to follow. “I believe you’ll want to join me on this one.”
“Hmm?” Setting down his meat, the God of Thunder walked after her, holding out his hand for his hammer to shoot into his grip. “What hath thou discovered?”
“I’m not entirely sure, but it is certain they will bring trouble.”
Thor’s eyes hardened. “Thou hath been trouble enough.”
“Hmm-hmm. I’m so happy we’re becoming friends,” she waved back with a confident smile. “Why don’t we see who decided to kidnap a princess of a kingdom to our south while en route to my city?”
The man’s nose twisted, clearly not on good terms with any kidnapper at the moment, and his hammer sparked with electricity as he grunted.
Making it to the Grand Hall as Noa managed to catch a break to teleport the group to them, Elinor’s fingers tightened into a fist.
“What am I to do with the Princess?” Edmon asked, carefully handling her removal from the giant bird’s back.
“Theresa is en route to handle her; bring her to the upper showers,” she said aloud for Thor to hear.
“Right away…”
Release your ice, so you don’t receive feedback.
He paused as Thor strode forward with a dark look on his face, ceasing the constant seal he was keeping them in; lightning dancing around his eyes, the tall man lifted his hammer and brought it down on the block, shattering it in a single blow.
The two within coughed and sputtered as they regained their senses, Elinor joining Thor’s side, her cold tone directed at the pair of weak Deitie—at least, one who was pretending to be weak. “Dolos, Apate… Well, isn’t this an awkward moment?”
The man blinked as his golden irises shot to his sister. “You—who are you?! What have you done to Apate!” he demanded.
“She doth be Apate,” Thor growled, glaring at the woman. “Thou wast to be dead with thy mother, Nyx; Primordial Olympus claimed to cleansed themselves of thy Celestial ancestors as did Asgard our own.”
“Nyx?” Dolos whispered in terror. “Our mother is Gaia…”
Apate hissed out a long stream of annoyance as she crossed her arms under her bust, revealing outfit and accessories shifting with the motion. “Thank you for ruining my infiltration of the Primordial Olympian pantheon, Thor; why would… No?”
Her golden irises went to Elinor in confusion. “Why do I sense a mix of… Hmm. Could I get an explanation as to exactly who you are with, Thor?”
“I owe nothing to thee, Trickster!”
She rolled her eyes at his raised hammer. “Yes. I know—I’m a bad, bad girl that tricks Gods and Primordials—you can kill me. Great. Happy? Got it out of your system?”
Elinor couldn’t help but like her attitude, even if there were many questions she had about this ‘Celestial’ Titan; she could bide her time, and clearly, she wasn’t on the Olympians’ side. “Hmm… Apate, we have a banquet happening downstairs. Why don’t we get to know each other a bit?”
“Hath thou gone mad, Irkalla?” Thor growled, hammer still held at the woman’s throat, yet her hands were raised weakly in an almost mocking surrender as she glared to the side; she knew she was no match for them. “Apate is among the most devious of tricksters among all Primordial Realms!”
She gave a strained smile. “Eh-heh, unfortunately—but enjoyably—it appears my reputation precedes me! Uh-heh, I’d love some food… Irkalla, is it—Mesopatamia… Ereshkigal? My, heh, you’re, uh… different!”
Elinor walked over to put a hand on Thor’s hand to lower his threatening stance as she gave the now nervous woman an innocent smile. “Trade me your soul, Apate, and I will trade you my heart. What do you say?”
All three were caught off-guard, making Thor’s lightning falter as Elinor held out her hand for chains to rip through space and surround them with their slow, clinking motions.
“Hehe… Well, don’t I feel in danger,” Apate forced a giggle. “Umm… In short, pledge myself to you—eh, you are not the Ereshkigal I knew!”
Elinor’s steady smile and stare didn’t leave her as new chains emerged to close around the shifting Titan. “I am the Supreme Jailor of the Eternities; allow me to bind your Core in my chains, and I will sincerely listen to anything you have to say.”
Thor stepped back with a thoughtful frown as he withdrew his weapon. “She will be at thy whim until thou release her—unable to lie or disobey thy commands… Humph. A fitting price for a trickster of her nature.”
“So stupid,” she grunted, her shifting eyes studying Elinor. “For the hatred you Primordials have for one another, you certainly believe the stories told by each other’s pantheons without question… What do you want of me, Irkalla—a slave for an eternity?”
“We’ll start with just a willing and helpful prisoner,” Elinor chimed. “We can go down this route, or…”
The siblings’ focus drifted in unison to Thor’s glowing hammer, causing a lump to drop down Apate and Dolos’ throats.
“I’ll accept!” Dolos laughed. “Uh, you’ll help me—”
Elinor waved a hand to shut him up, still not looking at the weak entity that likely was forced to join the Primordial Olympians that were sent to this planet. “Noa…”
“Yes, Empress?”
The three jumped as the Runic A.I. appeared beside her, looking distrustfully at the two prisoners.
“Take Dolos to one of our maximum-security cells and keep watch over him if you can spare the processing power, and be sure it is as far away from our other guest as possible.”
“Understood!”
Dolos opened his mouth to protest when the runes encircled him to transport the mortal God to his prison, and Apate groaned while rubbing the back of her neck.
“Fine… You are infinitely times better than any Primordial. Do what you will with me—ack…” she gasped, cheeks flushing and fingers clutching her breast as Elinor shot a chain past her lowered spiritual defenses to strike right at her Core, binding the trickster’s Intelligence.
A short giggle shook Elinor’s chest as a collar appeared around the woman’s throat for chains to shoot into her grip. “I’m a little surprised you actually did it… I suppose you’ve already concluded we are not allied with your enemies. Perfect!”
Putting a hand on her hip, Apate seemed to be in a pout as she muttered, “I was promised food? I am quite famished.”
“Eh-hehe,” Elinor had to scratch her temple at the statement. “We may run out of food at this rate… Huh. Well, I did promise a banquet.”
The chains and collar became invisible, her actual spirit more or less operating her physical body through the tie of the bond; she was locked within Elinor’s personal prison within her own Core.
Holding her hands behind her back, she tilted her head to the hallway they’d left from. “Well, coming, my attractive, little trickster slave? Hehe.”
“Haaa… How could this happen to me? Stupid Primordials,” she hissed, sulking after them.