Mara - The Lady Grief (Completed)

1 Nateos' Daughter

2652 B.C.E. City of Tmari-on-the-Euphrates

Spring, Month of Ajaru, the beginning

Parijan, a girl who was...

It takes a herculean effort to pry open my eyes. They feel as though they are caked in sand and plaster then layered over with some heavy wool like the toys made for toddlers that are starting to get their fangs. Fitting, I suppose, because I feel like a pincushion in more than one way.

Moaning in exhaustion, I force my heavy eyelids to open, blinking woozily at the image hovering above me. Dark, obsidian stonework carved into delicate filigrees center on the cruel grin of a demon gargoyle hovering above me. I stare at the mocking countenance as it's stone eyes peer out at something beyond me.

Slowly my eyes drift lower. A wooden door, entirely stained grey, with dark bronze fittings shining in the weak dawn light. The door is closed tightly, nothing welcoming about the entrance my body is slung in front of.

My skin is slowly waking up. Despite the all-over tingles, I can still feel the sharp corner of the stairs digging into my back. Slowly turning my head I look down. Around me is red, the deep blood-colored stone from the depths of the desert beyond the city walls. It is rare to see it inside the city walls and for good reason.

Black walls, gargoyles, grey doors, red steps; I am at the temple of Nateos, Lord of the Underworld, the god of death.

How did I get here?

I blink again, wondering if everything I'm seeing is some sort of mirage. My long eyelashes flutter, making the images my tired eyes see waver in golden-red threads. The gargoyle is still there, still grinning madly at the streets just past me. The temple sits in the lowest part of the city, with everything living hovering above it and the cities of the dead behind and below, yet, somehow, Nateos is never really forgotten, is he?

How long have I been here? Another question I have no answer for. My last memory is of the nighttime, I assume last night.

I suck in a startled breath. Dark memories. Thane of the First House... my Fated.

I remember... Pain and hurt. My Fated condemning me to die. Rejection. Profound and devastating. I forgot the pain in my soul.

It feels... numb now. The pain is distant... as if it happened eons ago to another little female instead of just hours ago.

I was lashed with a whip until my body was bleeding profusely, until the physical pain of the torture outweighed the agony of rejection in my heart. When I couldn't move, couldn't fight any longer, I fell to the ground, unable to move. I remember... more pain. Blinding, soul-deep agony raking over me.

Death. I remember... nothingness, emptiness, stealing over me, taking me from the pain.

Then what happened? Then... being picked up and dragged through the city and... thrown away... somewhere. Not here. Not even Thane's most loyal warriors would be so bold as to toss the corpse of his unwanted Fated on the doorstep of the Death god.

They're blindly loyal, but not stupid.

Red light seeps over the walls of the temple. It's beautiful, I realize suddenly. The Temple of Death seems alive as the black stone reflects the dawn and the gargoyle now seems to be winking, though that may just be the odd angle I'm at.

The light from the sun creeps over me slowly, warming me, until it reaches my eyes, stinging them. It's irritating to be disturbed.

I half-turn to my side, feeling the steps dig into my side. Ignoring the discomfort, I push myself up, using the slant of the steps to propel my body to stand. I don't know how, but I manage to climb to my feet.