Rhea wants nothing more than to kill her father. But not just because he's any run-of-the-mill scumbag. No, he's a god. And he's the one who cursed her with being a goldblood -- half human, half godling. Good for her, she's willing to do anything to...
This is what my mother told me, before she died, carried away in a fine dusting of ashes and blood-ridden coughs.
On the rare nights I do dream, I see his luminescent golden eyes, peering down on me, uncaring and distant. I see him cut his palm open with a small dagger, and see the drip drip drip of the blood as it runs all over the ground.
Then, wordlessly, he walks away.
As for whether that ever happened, I can't know.
But I know what my mother said, and because I was but a wee girl when she died, I hold on to her words all the tighter.
I also know that sometimes the gods come down, silent as the mist that descends over Oro Valley, disguised as mortals, donning mottled skin and chipped teeth, odd gaits and battle scars. But they can't hide that they bleed gold.
A luxurious, vibrant gold that rivals any jewelry owned by the most blue blooded of royalty.
A gold that is sometimes called golden liquor or the golden elixir. It's said to heal all wounds, extend any life, even bring those on the brink of death back.
That's why, in my line of work, I need to be careful. Not a single nick, not a scratch, must land on me.
Because when I bleed, I bleed gold too.
And while I may not care whether the rumors are true, others do.
And I can't afford to slip up. Not now, not ever.
Not before I get vengeance on the person who made me this way. The one who wooed my mother, raped her, and then left her to die.
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