"Men must bleed. They caused the pain of my sisters and I. United we are Goddesses, apart we are queens."
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Made from the souls of a thousand, the daughter of the earth is made to be one of the many rulers in a l...
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Earth, Sky Tide, Sun and Moon were their names.
Their daughters names were unknown.
Zixo slows with exhaustion as I walk along her side the rest of the way to Jano's rising palace. The jungle stands long behind us, snake vines crawling over the massive walls that lead up the mountain side. Even though Abus had tried to wipe out the history of the goddess, their names still cover the walls except here they are more of a mockery than an honor.
From my place on the steps, soft sea air settles of my taste buds as I watch slow tides wash up at the sandy land in the distance where boats and reed floats sit on the water. Voices of visitors standing on the railing catch my eye as they offer candied fruits in the name of good deed and celebration of the king.
"How does one live without a ankisa?" I take on the final steps where Olori waits, her mount already gone on her skin.
"They make artificial ones out of dogs and horses, animals that live by command rather than freedom." Olori speaks to me for the first time since the entire journey, a candied grapefruit in one hand and her scroll in the other. "Only the king has no mount."
She drips juices on the pearly white steps without so much of a regard. A budge at her waist is an open sign that she's armed, as I am but mine are much more hidden. I nod to it, to which she covers it with the low-hanging cloth of her tunic.
"We should head up." I pass her, keeping my hand on the golden railing to steady myself from plummeting feet below to the sandy sea of violet below.
"You are free to." Olori keeps eating and watching a group of young people near our age speak among themselves about the newest beauty regimes and the gossip running warm.
I wonder if they were raised by wealthy seers or griots hand and hand with King Abus. Their faces are painted with roses and art spiraling down their cheeks and foreheads, glowing in the light of the last of purple hues that bounce on the sky between darkening clouds and streaks of uneven light. They spare us no more than a glance before turning back to their conversation.
"You might want to hide your mount." Olori eyes Zixo. "The nobles have their mounts and not all of them take to well to strange ones."
Without a thought, Zixo takes the form of a tattoo on the back of my arm. Olori finishes her fruit in a matter of seconds before heading in the same direction as me. She holds her hand out, taking the role that she was painted to play, the role of a nobody who'd just been appointed a general seer of the scouts. General Anada and her messager Mer of the lower mountainous region of Lllide.
"What if they spot us?" I take her hand but refuse to allow her any closer. "What if the guards knew the captives?"
Olori shakes her head, locks of moon-white hair falling into her forehead. "You speak like an idiot, don't you feel the enchantment that circles you? The seers made us look like the captives by performing a blood magic ritual while you were off. Why do think the captives were guarded?"
