A Priestess for the Blind God (Legends of Rahasia Book 1)

Chapter Four

            "My name is Ode," my voice is gruff from my pretense with Ryu. I kind of like my voice this way, like thunder rolling in with the storm. "I am of the house of Lord Ngayoh, General to the Emperor." The registrar is manned by three stick figures, little more than skeletons. I glance at their markings and see they are all servants to the Blind God. Figures that the Blind God's priests are all emaciated. He hasn't won a war ever since he lost his eyes to Cato the Elder. Nobody would worship somebody so pathetic.

It is rumored that the strongest of the Divine Contests goes to Cato the Elder, the most beautiful and talented go to entertain the whims of the dandy Aziz the Beloved, and the most pathetic of the winning crop fall to melancholy Kane the Blind.

But anything would be better than being married away to an indifferent royal playboy who breeds with me for heirs while he tends to his concubines. I remember Ryu, see the brand in his flesh, the flower the size of a coin in his neck. It was probably done when he was just old enough to remember, crueler so that he'd remember it all his life.

At least I'm not a concubine, or the concubine's sad offspring.

But...

"You are the outlier we were warned about." The droopy-eyed, gaunt-faced priest looks up at me then, scrutinizing my features. "You should return to your weaving in Rahasia, child, before you hurt yourself in the arena." He leans closer. I can tell he's trying to see my face in its entirety, the pariah who dares defy her womanhood. "You are the woman, aren't you?"

I hear the whispers behind me. A woman? In this camp? A woman, here?

I can feel Ryu staring at the back of my neck with that selfsame curiosity.

I suppose the charade is over.

I push the hood back and release my hair from my braids. It's frizzy from sweat, but it forms a dark halo around my head, making me feel like one of those lionesses at the gate of Rahasia, screaming for eternity toward the skies in blind rage.

"Do you wish for me to repeat myself, or are you deaf as well as blind?" I throw my head back, hands on my hips as a small crowd of curious, bored Diviners glance over at me, the woman who dared to breach their all-male encampment. "I am only heir of my father, the only one who can compete for him in the Divine Contests. I am Ode of the house of Lord Ngayoh, General to the Emperor." I lift my face up, letting every supposedly "dainty" crescent, crease, and crevice shine beneath the desert light. "And I am here to compete."

I take out the extra bag of gold that my father had sold his old war weapons to gather. I let the coins slip between my fingers like sand, catching every facet of light imaginable. My grin widens as I see the thick knot of hunger twist in that sad priest's stomach. I see how he imagines all the food he can buy with this gold, to repair the Blind God's crumbling temple.

"May the gods have mercy on your soul." He mutters, sweeping the gold beneath the table. I nod, knowing that this was the easiest obstacle to defeat this day.

It'll only get deadlier from here.

***

Hello my Champions!

Enjoy that little monologue? Ode has a flair for dramatics sometimes. She thinks she's in "Gladiator" or something. ;) 

Still, she's a badass. And I love her for it. (I get attached to my characters. Sometimes I even start my day asking. "What would Ode do?"

Answer: punch something.

Love

Sophia Whittemore