Creed #2
Riven lets out a low chuckle. “She always hated messes.”
“It’s not about a mess,” Amick adds. “It’s about her controlling the things she creates.”
Kyzen and I grunt our agreement as Thayla’s gaze bounces over each of us.
“Okay. So she’s controlling and likes everything perfect. I assume that means she was the same way with all of you?”
“Oh no, not me since she didn’t create me. Well, she aided in my creation, but you know, I didn’t come from her. I was barely allowed over,” Riven says.
He can wipe that stupid-ass smirk off his face.
It doesn’t fool any of us.
Especially not Thayla.
“Yes, she was like that with us. We lived double lives when we were with her. At our father’s, she tried to force us to be one big happy family, but she didn’t stand in the way of how he raised us. Here, we had to be perfectly behaved children,” Amick says.
“And if you weren’t?”
“She’d go fucking crazy,” I grumble.
“Crazy like the screaming kind or…”
The four of us share glances, and Kyzen huffs.
“Screaming, pitching fits, threw around threats she never followed through with. Fighting and training were always beneath her, so she wasn’t physically abusive to us like our father was, but mentally and emotionally…”
She hums and her eyes observe the room. After a small shake of her head, attempting and failing to hide how Kyzen’s words bother her, she turns into Amick’s side.
“Are you okay? You did really good at your trial.”
He offers her a small smile as he runs his finger down her cheek. “I’m fine. Annoyed we’re here, wasting hours when we should be gathering signatures, but it’ll be over soon. How are you? You handled yourself and meeting the Goddess of Accord perfectly.”
She snorts as she ducks her face. “Seems my jewelry worked like a charm. There was a quick moment of panic when she initially touched me and my mind buzzed, but it immediately simmered down. I was nervous as fuck, though, and it took a lot of restraint not to mouth off a few times.”
I smirk at that.
There were a few times I thought I was going to have to step in front of her.
Riven leans back against a column, smacking a flower away as it leans toward his face. “Okay, so what’s the plan here? We go on this little tour, coo and compliment her creations, then leave?”
“I got a feeling the more we keep ignoring her, the longer she’s going to try to stretch this stay. I say we survive a few hours of faked enjoyment. Then it’ll be easier to declare we’re leaving.”
“Well, you’re her favorite, dear Keeper of Time, so whatever you say,” Riven snarks.
“Don’t do that. You know as well as I do that she only treats me like that because my power can help her keep all this shit thriving for longer.”
Thayla’s frown deepens as she peers between the two of them.
“I don’t like this whole favoritism taurnshit. Why is that so normal between them?”
“It’s just the way of the gods. Whatever power benefits them the most gets their favor,” I say.
“So the whole ‘don’t touch anything’…”
“Only she’s allowed to kill her creations. Not me.”
She humphs and scowls around at everything like she’s tempted to kill it all off herself.
Despite myself, that makes me chuckle.
“Okay then,” she says, giving us a tight grin. “So we’re going to fake it till we make it. No touching her shit. Polite. Calm. Normal-ish.”
“As normal as we get.” Riven smiles, earning a glare from each of us.
“Well, you all didn’t move at all. What’s wrong? You don’t like the layout of the foyer?”
Thayla mutters a curse under her breath as she spins around, and we all straighten slightly. Calista’s bottom lip pokes out a bit as she stares at us with sad eyes, and I have to force mine not to roll.
She replaced her robes with a damn evening gown.
I can’t imagine that’s more comfortable.
“It’s very lovely. We just didn’t want to disturb anything.”
Her face morphs into a massive-ass smile.
“That is so very thoughtful, Ms. Godrun. I do love my creations.”
“Please, call me Thayla.”
“I’ll call you what I want.” She sighs softly as she gawks lovingly around her foyer, all while ignoring the small sneer on Thayla’s face. “Well, come, follow me. I can’t wait to show you everything.”
She twirls around and glides ahead, not checking if we follow.
We do.
The hallway curves instead of running straight. Tall windows line one side, though I don’t remember windows here before. Light spills in soft and gold, illuminating polished floors that reflect us too clearly.
Attendants move silently along the edges. Their steps make no sound. Their eyes never quite focus.
Thayla tenses a touch more with each one that passes.
All these gods in Valveilious, Beginning and Domain, have always had Attendants or lesser gods work in their homes. Something about these ones, though, is different.
Rather than beaming with life like the rest of this fucking place, they seem completely devoid of it.
Calista waves her hand toward a set of doors that the Attendants keep hurrying through, and I get the smallest glimpse of the room.
“Is that the kitchen?” I ask before I can stop myself.
I obviously knew there was one, but I’ve honestly never seen it. Didn’t even know where it was in this monstrosity.
“Yes, I believe so,” she calls over her shoulder. “We have no business in there, though. We’re above lingering in rooms meant for labor. That’s what Attendants are for.”
My fingers immediately wrap around Thayla’s wrist.
Riven snorts. “We’ve cooked for ourselves.”
She gasps, whipping around, and we all slam to a stop.
“What do you mean?”
“We cook our own food,” Amick clarifies.
Like it wasn’t clear enough.
She blinks repeatedly, truly struggling to understand. Without a word, she turns back around and starts yapping on about the mural painted on the windowless wall of her and our father.
It’s vile.
They have no clothes on.
Riven gags, then coughs as Kyzen elbows him and gives him a pointed look.
Fucking finally, the hall opens into a wide terrace and then down shallow steps into the gardens. They’re expansive and potent in smell, but at least there’s air out here, circulating it better than in the house.
“This is my favorite place to sit and relax. My best ideas come to me out here.”
Hedges trimmed in orderly patterns are layered and aligned to perfection. Flower beds bursting with color are spaced evenly. I spot several white stone fountains with water flowing in arcs spread across the area.
It’s more than I remember and beautiful, but painfully curated.
Thayla reaches for a flower, then stops herself before her fingers graze a petal. “This is quite impressive.”
Calista smiles over her shoulder, pleased. “Creation should be admired.”
As in, I’m glad you thought better before you touched my shit.
Thayla and Riven share a smirk as though they picked up on the undertone in her words and had a similar, awful fucking idea. I glare at the two of them.
We walk along a stone path, observing the absolute abundance of growth. Yet it’s all perfectly symmetrical.
Everything is trimmed. Measured. Guided into place.
No wild growth.
No stray branch left to choose its own direction.
“You don’t let anything overgrow,” I say.
“Overgrowth implies neglect.”
“Sometimes it implies freedom,” Thayla counters before she can stop herself, and her lips tighten as Calista turns slowly.
The air stills for half a breath as my brothers and I shift closer.
“Freedom,” she repeats thoughtfully, “is a matter of perspective.”
We stand still, studying her. A moment later, her head twitches and she’s back to smiling brightly.
She gestures to a long nook wrapped in flowering vines with a swing covered in pillows.
“I was sitting right there when the idea of how to create all of you came to mind. I love that memory. Amick, maybe you’d enjoy that space. A quiet place to read. Structured shade. Minimal distractions.”
He hums, not agreeing or disagreeing, just acknowledging that she spoke.
“Let’s head back inside. You’ll find the interior more personalized and to your liking.”
Doubtful.
We follow another path around a corner of the home, and it leads directly under an archway to a new set of double doors. The fact that so much of the layout has changed makes me uncomfortable. My brothers too.
Their eyes continue to map every difference they notice. Thayla takes it all in like she does whenever she’s in an unfamiliar place.
This interior hallway shifts from white marble and gold to darker tones, deeper blues, and warmer lighting.
“This area of the house felt more appropriate,” she says casually.
“For?” Kyzen asks after a breath of silence.
“For you all, of course. Now you’ll be more comfortable when you come stay with me.”
A small flinch passes through my brothers and me. Thayla’s wide eyes meet mine, and she mouths, “What the fuck?”
I bristle as we pass through a wall-less illusion. One moment, we were in a hall. The next, we’re standing in a foyer that has two doors.
“This way,” she cheers as she swings the door on the left open wide.
The five of us share a curious but cautious glance with one another.
Shockingly, the room we step into is void of flowers, statues of herself, and all the other nonsense we’ve seen so far.
It appears to be just a simple living room with two couches, a small table, and four doors.
“Let’s take a peek at your bedrooms. Kyzen, you first, sweetheart.”
“Bedrooms?” he asks.
She huffs softly. “Of course. Where else would you sleep when you come stay with me?”
Fuck.
“When were you planning on us visiting again?” he asks slowly as he steps toward the door she’s gesturing to, and the four of us crowd closer to him.
“Whenever. That’s why I made this space.”
He gives her a tight smile as he pushes the door open.
It’s as large as our rooms back home, maybe even larger. There’s a bed, a closet, I suppose a bathroom, and wide windows surrounding a set of doors that lead out to a balcony.
None of those details hold my attention.
The swords displayed across the dark blue walls like art pieces, do.
Kyzen stands in the doorway, staring.