Reshina
When I lifted myself from the floor, a trail of blood followed, staining the dusty slab of stone below my feet. I’d heal quickly from the wound as soon as I could bind it and get through the excruciating pain of setting the bone back into my ragged skin.
I looked up to find that the hole I fell through had closed. The tunnel ceiling had righted itself with no evidence I had ever fallen through it.
Dragged, more like. The King of Heartstone had aided my rather unorthodox appearance into the realm below Revelry, and we had a score to settle already.
I’d never been to the Underrealm. Upon reflection, I couldn’t recall any of the other eleven Goddesses saying they had either. Ishtak, Goddess of the Underrealm, ruled over the Underfae and wasn’t exactly a welcoming soul.
But it was Ishtak whom I would need to find.
She lurked somewhere in this Goddessforsaken realm of dank stone and dirt. If anyone knew how to get me out of this curse, it would be her.
“Pardon me, Your Exaltedness.”
I rarely startled but jumped at the golden sconce speaking to me.
“My apologies!” it cried, donning two blinking eyes and a droll little mouth. “I have come to assist you with your wounds!”
I sighed heavily, cradling my wrist and assessing how best to slip the bone back into place. “I am not in need of assistance from a gibbering candlestick.”
“Oh! But I am not always such a thing!”
I stepped back in surprise. A little man, reaching just to my elbow, appeared beside me in a flash of gold shimmer.
He wore the finely detailed burgundy jacket of a servant, immaculately pressed.
His hair was a curly brown with bits of white ashes tufted throughout that he quickly brushed aside.
With a crinkled face and large eyes, it was easy to look past his pointed ears, ending in skin the color of molten gold.
“Ah, a Changlingfae,” I concluded, focusing back to my painful task at hand.
“The Goddess knows all!” he squeaked, turning his large set eyes to my wrist.
“Nonsense,” I muttered, “your golden ears have given you away. And the fact that you were no more than wall decor but a moment ago.” I took a full deep breath, then another.
“Is that your Changlingfae power, then? To shift into a light source?” At the last of my words I gripped my hand, snapping it over the jutting bone.
I whimpered in muted cries, taking more breaths before I opened my eyes to assess my progress.
“Precious Goddess, no!” he shouted in a high pitch bellow. “My gift is healing! The wall was just a bit of an introduction. Now here, let me see—”
His gnarled hands reached for my own and I stepped back. “I don’t need your help, Changelingfae.” I thought for half a moment, adding, “Not for this anyway.”
“But I—”
“I’ve been healing my own wounds longer than you’ve existed in this realm, Revelry or otherwise. Now let me tend to my—”
“Pardon, Oh Greatest Goddess of the Realm, but I must insist on my assistance!”
The voice came from the golden bandage which appeared suddenly across my wrist, wound several times over.
“Oh, for Goddesses sake,” I muttered, unraveling the cloth that contained two black eyes and that same little mouth.
I crumpled the bandage, ignoring the muffled cries of the little man it actually was, and inspected my wound.
But I had none.
As I twisted my wrist in the dim glow of the Underrealm, I could not find a wound nor tear nor scar to imply I’d ever fallen and broken it.
“Now, Primordial Goddess so Divine, if I could just take a look at that bleeding hand…” He was back in his Changlingfae form, tugging on the bottom hem of his jacket, which had wrinkled significantly in his transition.
“What is your name?”
A look of surprise lit his face, his large eyes widening even more if that was possible. “Apologies!” He bent at the waist. “I am called Piffle, your most graciously humble servant, Beautiful Goddess so Preternaturally—”
“Reshina will do, Piffle.” I rotated my wrist without pain. “And thank you. Your gift of healing is far greater than any I’ve encountered in the past century. Céad must have been very generous in her gift giving at your birth.”
At the mention of the Changlingfae Goddess’s name, Piffle uttered a squeak, slapping his hands across his mouth. “The Enchanting Goddess knows Céad?”
“Of course. Did you think one Goddess of the Veil would not know all the others?”
“I-I’ve spent much time here in the Underrealm as of late. The only other Goddess I’ve seen is Ishtak!”
A smile curled on my lips. I tilted my head, narrowing my eyes. “You are just the fae I need, then, Piffle. Come, take me to Ishtak and I shall see to it that you see the sun again.”
“Beautiful Goddess, I cannot.”
“Why?”
“It…” he leaned in closer. “It is forbidden.”
“I see,” I hummed. “And who is the one who has forbidden one Goddess from meeting with another?”
He shook his head swiftly. “It is not the act of meeting that is forbidden, but the western corridor where she dwells that you must never enter if you wish to…to…”
He held his neck, choking on nothing but air.
I huffed, glancing ahead to where the tunnel ended in a set of stairs. “Don’t tire yourself, Piffle. I recognize a man sworn to secrecy by the hand of a Goddess when I see one.”
“Th-thank you, My Exquisite—”
“And as I already said once,” I added, beginning my steady stride toward the ascending stair, the click of my heeled shoes echoing through the tunnel. “My name is Reshina and you may call me such.”
I heard his steps scurrying behind me. “Please! I’ll show you to your rooms, Godd—er—Reshina!”
“First,” I muttered, swiftly finding the bottom stair, “You will show me the entrance to the western corridor. Then you may show me to my rooms.”
“But, Goddess—”
I swiveled on my heel, staring down at the little man in a cold gaze and unfurling my wings at my back. “Do you question a Goddess of the Veil?” My words rang soft and dangerous.
His face scrunched into the shape of a withered squash. “The Master has said—”
I took one calculated step towards him. “A Goddess is your Mistress now, Piffle.” I bent at the waist, meeting his eye. “And she takes precedence over any king.”
I waited for his confirmation and didn’t wait long. A short burst of nods were followed by, “Yes, yes, of course.”
“Good. I am happy to follow your lead.”
He stepped around me, head bent in submission. “Please do not go there, Mistress. Please say you only wish to see where it is and not to venture.”
“Lead the way,” I ordered, ignoring his plea and following the little man up the stone stairs and into the heart of the Underrealm.