Elisia Emerson: Goddess of the Damned

Chapter One: The Hand that Feeds

CHAPTER ONE

The hand that feeds

My life had been a happy one, until the death of my father. Even on his deathbed I was not able to tell him my secrets, the ones that haunted me. I cried for several hours, even during the ceremonial burial. When they lowered him to the ground, I broke. The skies darkened and it began to rain, my father was dead and I couldn't bring him back.

Once the ceremony was over, the Keep Master called me to his room.

"It is my duty to inform you of your inheritance, every knight is given land holdings within the kingdoms. Being his adopted daughter, you may claim it. However, proprietary claims of adoptive relatives require an investigation."

I stood up, filled with both unyielding rage and grief, "You've known me since I was a baby! I loved my father and I would never do anything to harm him! I didn't even know that he wasn't my real father until he was almost dead!"

The keep Master snapped his fingers and ordered me to sit down. His brow furled in palpable irritation, no one but my father could speak to him in this manner.

"You will keep your home and other lands; the investigation will be a just one. I will see to it, now you may leave."

Immediately, I replied, "What would my father say about this? Did his loyalty mean nothing?"

Thump!

The keep Master slammed his fist on the desk, "His loyalty is no small matter for you to be using it so casually. I understand your plight, but the laws are laws, as knights we must adhere."

I stormed out of the room and ran outside, ignoring people extending their condolences. The rain was still pouring, forcing me to hide in the hood of my cloak. Making my way outside the keep's ground, I ended up in the market square. Vendors from all over the continent congregated there, anything and everything was for sell.

"Would the young lady like a magic potion? It makes all worries go away, if you catch my drift."

A young sleazy merchant stood before me. Hooded gray robe to disguise his face from the public, most illegal poison vendors wear for them in fear of being caught. I revealed the crest on my clothes, staring him down till he ran away. Ever since my father and the other knights killed a dragon, the people have chosen them as the peace keeper. Wearing the crest is a show of skill and authority.

"Perhaps the beautiful woman over there would like to buy a nice ring, half off if you got the coin!"

The new merchants were shadier and more annoying, but I entertained him for the sole purpose of venting my anger. His ugly crooked smile only matched by the stench on his clothing, not the least bit presentable.

"I would like to buy a nice ring, but the ruby seems chipped."

He quickly began flourishing his hands while he talked, marring my view of the ring. Internally I was enjoying toying with this vermin, like a game of cat and mouse. Underestimating a woman will often lead to your own downfall, he's got no one to blame but himself.

"It is a scratch! Yes... All war relics have them, and as you know... Most relics have special properties..."

Magical items while rare, are easy to spot if you know the quality of the artifacts. My father once said: "Anything that can be burnt by normal fire is not magical." This merchant was beginning to be warier of me.

"Is it resistant to fire? As a cook I need the most heat resistant wear money can buy."

His eyes glistened with joy as he began to spew more nonsense. My cloak concealing my sword and crest, fooling this crook into thinking I was but a gullible civilian.