Daughters of Moonlight

Prologue

By Bloom
ANAHITA
The clouds had been there for the entire day, the threat of rain seeming to follow the ship around. Despite their guise of strength, I saw the captain and the crew looking over their shoulders nervously. As if by some sinister power those clouds would actually hurt them. It was funny, really, seeing how these people that viewed themselves as strong and fearless cowered at the slightest suggestion of imagined danger. They are more accustomed to dry land, most of them went below deck as soon as they boarded this ship. I remember some women complaining as they boarded it, calling it a death trap. I don't know why they would have such an aversion to water, I mean after all, don't they need it to live?
As if on cue, the clouds opened, the water poured down over the ship, the wind grew more powerful, the thunder and lightning growing stronger by the minute. This was a display of power unlike anything I had ever seen, it was something beautiful, unexpected. The water began to rise, the boat began rocking back and forth violently. These people weren't used to the rocking, many of them fell over. Despite their being below deck I could hear the children wailing, their mothers crying just as loudly, and I could even make out some prayers.
There was another crack of lightning, this one a mere mile away. The resounding thunder was louder than anything I had witnessed before. I was the only one on the deck who wasn't screaming, scurrying around trying to save my skin. I was lost in the frenzy. I allowed myself for just a second to let the water roll in my fingers, then I let the ball drop to the deck again, splashing in almost a foot of water. No one noticed my small display of power; people don't tend to notice others in times of fear.
I noticed them, of course, but I was not afraid. Their cries filled my ears. Shouts from the captain "Use the buckets! Get the water off the deck!" calls from crewmates "We're going to sink!" and "We're filling up too fast!" pleas for mercy from their gods. I noticed a young man, no older than twenty. He was probably thankful for the rain so that no one would see the tears on his face. For a second, I felt a bit of pity for him then he opened his mouth. "Vita have mercy on us, grant us more time!" and I found myself sneering. Vita is not going to save you. I will. I'd known that since the storm began, of course. The realization wasn't a new one by any means. My people have been saving them for years, they should thank us but instead they repaid us with death and cruelty.
I took a deep breath, my time of watching them scurry like a colony of ants was over. My hands curled into fists in my sleeves, no one would notice the woman saving their lives on the deck, why would they? I started by slowing the wind, making the waves calm to almost nothing. I sighed and removed the thunder and lightning. Now we were only in a steady downpour. I didn't want to stop the rain. I liked how it felt on my skin. It was comforting, a part of me. But these Maloians weren't going to help themselves. I opened my hands, letting the rain come down harder for only a minute then I closed them tightly again. The rain slowed, until it stopped. The clouds began to roll away as well leaving nothing but the blue sky and the sun.
I felt a sadness at the loss of the water, almost a hopelessness. But these people rejoiced. They thanked Vita for saving their lives. The sailor I had noticed before laughed; his face still streaked with tears. He seems hysterical, almost surprised to be alive. I watched his lips move as he mouths the words "Thank you Vita" These people thank their gods for everything. They claim that they are powerful but in the slightest instance of a storm, the cower. My people would have rejoiced, water is delicate and balanced and, well, water is life after all. I see the haze of land in the distance. These people began rejoicing, even louder than they had before. They seemed surprised, shocked that they had survived their trip on the seas in the raging storm they had just experienced. I rolled my eyes at the sight of it all, almost forgetting to make sure that my scarf was still secure. It was one of the things protecting my identity, along with the brown eyes Kuala had ilused for me, she said it should last five years as purple to brown was a simple change, but I assured her I'd be back before that when my mission was complete. I was relieved when it was but still annoyed at everything around me. These are not my people.

Botieus Fuhrein, he was the embodiment of what it meant to be graviorian. He was loud, arrogant and rich enough to have his own supply of syren blood. Everyone despised him because everyone wanted to be him. He was perfect.
His house was on the top of a hill overlooking the town. It wasn't there because it offered more protection, it was a display of power, of wealth, completely unnecessary and completely graviorian. The doors were dark, almost black and carved to show the graviorian god of war. He was shown leading the armies that took laui. He was leading the armies pushing the graviorian borders even farther, farther north, farth east, everywhere. My breath hitched as I saw him cutting down sirens left and right. Still I swallowed hard before I reached up and knocked at the door. A tall, thin man opened the door. I smiled again but anyone could see that this was a diplomatic smile, it wasn't fake but it also didn't reach my eyes. "I am looking for Botieus Fuhrein, I believe he is expecting the nymph ambassador this afternoon," I bowed my head slightly as I said this indicating that I was, in fact, the nymph ambassador I spoke of.
His voice was unexpectedly deep as he spoke "Sir Fuhrein has been expecting you, Miss-"
"Pulai" I interrupted him before he could inquire about my name
"Yes, Miss Pulai. He is in his office, I can go announce you if you so desire,"
"Yes, that would be wonderful, thank you," I smiled warmly this time.
He led me down the halls, the house was very fine, the floor was polished marble, the walls were made of rich wooden panels, there were velvet drapes on every window. There were paintings by the finest artists in all of graviores. Despite how beautiful the house was, it was empty. It lacked a family. It lacked life. We walked in silence, nothing to accompany us but the sound of our shoes clicking along the floors. He stopped before another door, this one was the same color as the wood panelling surrounding it and this one was not carved as the outer door had been.
"Sir Fuhrein," he said, knocking on the door "The ambassador is here, are you ready to speak with her?" There were footsteps on the other side of the door and the door was opened by Botieus.
"Thank you, Elizar" he nodded to the tall, thin man that had led me here before looking at me "please, come in," he motioned to what could only be his office.
Boetius was quite tall, taller than me, even, he was also broader shouldered than I had expected. He had pale brown hair but deep brown eyes. His nose was of typical gravioran fashion being very straight, he also had a very strong jawline. His cheekbones were very high and his cheeks had a hollow look to them, not sunken in, simply hollow. He looked at me and smiled, "Hello, miss-"
"Pulai," I said warmly, "but please, call me Anahita."
"Anahita, I am, as you probably know, Boetius Fuhrein, but you can call me Boetius"
He was clearly arrogant, however he was foolish enough to fall for this trap. He would do wonderfully.