A Clove of Fates

20. Hoping Wishing Praying

edited by ValKayRee 

Some might say that the most beautiful of the gods and goddesses was Syna. After all, it was her magic that gave birth to elves, and there was no denying that they were the prettiest species of humans. And Syna did hold a certain type of glamor about herself, she caught the eye and pleased all lines of vision that she ensnared.

But in my opinion, Syna's wife held that title.

I'd seen her enter the party before anyone else did, felt the chill tumble down my spine alone in a sea of party goers. Her sand colored skin was pulled tauntly over her unmoving face, her sharp eyes perched regally upon high cheekbones. Her wild cinnamon hair was given volume by an invisible wind, the top of which was secured by a silver helmet. On her heels were two snarling wolves, almost as tall as I was.

Ofsi.

I knew that no one else could see her, save Syna perhaps. But she was too invested in analyzing Jarelis's outfit.

One of the hounds barked, and I could feel the sound in my bones.

I was never supposed to stay this late. I knew better. And why had I? Because I thought that Syna of all the gods and goddesses would be able to pull her head out of her ass long enough to save me? It was so stupid, I was so stupid. And now I was stupid and without a choice—the party was coming to an end, which meant that death was on her way.

I turned to Jarelis, grabbing her wrist, involuntarily pushing some of my magic into her once more. I didn't have the luxury of being embarrassed, fear was making its way into every aspect of my being in that way that only the Goddess of Violence and Beasts could inspire.

Jarelis didn't get it, not fully, until the music went out. Until all eyes were on us. And then she swallowed harshly and turned to me. And then turned behind us. And she saw.

How could she see?

It was my aunt's image that had haunted me since childhood, a picture that I alone had seen. A memory that I had blocked out the image of, but the emotions of it were still there. And the sound. That barking that rattled teeth and stopped hearts. And her name.

Ofsi.

It was Jarelis's thought, not mine, but it might as well have been my own.

She looked back to me, placing a hand over the one that I used to grip her wrist, pulling me closer ever so slightly. Then a glance to Fraed, whose beast growled at the ones that approached who were easily twice his size. All of this happened in seconds.

"Auntie." I choked out quickly. I looked back to Syna. "Auntie, please. You don't want to hurt me, do you?"

"It's not up to me, darling." Her voice was the same tone she'd been joking with me earlier. "I wish it was, but it's not. It's what they want, what the group wants. You've made yourself different. Loud." She giggled. "And people...well they can be so cruel to those who don't fit in."
Jarelis.