Mirror Of The Forgotten Gods

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Nyx

The Wishing God

A Divergence of Fate

Three Centuries Prior

"So you want to kill the King, who is also your father?" Nyx smiled at him uncrossing her arms. She didn't want to put her hands on the mildew floor despite the Ethereal Shroud protecting her from its actual touch.

"You don't believe me!" The boy shouted, "No one ever believes me. But he is my father!" He sighed and crossed his arms pushing out his bottom lip and then he tucked his head between his knees. "My mother told me." He whispered.

"I believe you. I can see it through your wish." Nyx picked up the chord and let herself take in the past pulling threads for the Tapestry to view the moments that lead to the boys wish. Flashes of the current King passed through her eyes. "I wouldn't granted you wish if I didn't believe you. My sister wouldn't send me your wish if it weren't serious. So let's start with your name. What is it?"

"Titus." The boy cast his eyes towards the floor then looked at his hands being held in Nyx's own. "I was born inside the palace. My father was gifted my mother from a slave caravan from Thaladore which patrolled the Elvish and Vesperon boarders. It was there in the Neutral-Expanse that they kidnapped my mother and brought her here."

"That explains your height." Nyx tousled the boys hair. "You're a halfling. There's nothing wrong with being a halfling." She smiled at him.

"My mother was a kitchen slave... that was what she told me."

"It's true. I have seen it." Nyx lifted herself from where she sat beside the boy. "A halfling birth... Not always survivable and very hard on the mother." Nyx thought of all the wishes she had granted, red thread, blue thread, yellow, and ebony thread... she looked past her internal catalogues. Halfling wishes, birth survival wishes... There she found a woman standing alone, her belly two sizes too large for her human body.... The elves believed in the holiness of life, especially elven lineage, and wouldn't outwardly commit violence against a halfling but they were otherwise excluded from society like this boy had been. "Your mother was Samantha?" Nyx smiled at the boy.

"How did you know?" The boy now stood beside her.

"The Tapestry." Nyx looked up towards her sister and wondered if she was still watching."I remember her, and I even know her final wish for you..." Nyx dug through the past looking into the Ethereal Shroud and watching the years of the past weave in front of her. She pulled forth the Tapestry viewing it from every angle until she stopped at the woman's dying wish.

Nyx didn't follow any particular rules when it came to granting wishes; her purpose was to disrupt the Tapestry and create unpredictability so there could be free will. In contrast, her sister Syriah's role, was to restore balance and order by maintaining the threads of Fate with the Weavers in their predetermined positions.

Nyx hardly granted wishes posthumously, that was often Syriah's choice. A posthumous wish almost always restored order, never flexing the flow of time towards something less linear. Nyx watched the screen of images flowing before her, the woman giving birth, and then finally the blood that would not stop pouring. She slowed the image and reached a hand into the past pulling free a blue chord. She looked down at the white chord and the blue chord side by side. The white chord hissed with energy, making loud popping noises, pulling free from her hand. The blue chord danced lazily, a low hiss rattling out of it when she lifted it. Syriah had not sent the boy to her for nothing. She wished Syriah was there to fill in the gaps so she could know if this is what she was meant to do.