DIVINE WRATH

12. Good riddance

I hated the hair net. I had my hair gathered in a bun at the nape of my neck. I had gloves on my hands. I still could fill the throbbing of bitten fingernails. My gash bled. The stains of crimson from the tips of my fingers were visible. Last night I slept on my assigned bed. The sleeping house was a long area filled with bunk beds.

I got the loft bed. I strained my ears to hear my bedmates' talk. I was new. It was a guarantee that I would not be anytime soon received in any group. I had to make my worth proved to them, first. Meantime I will be satisfied if I had the chance to hear some rumors and get the fill of the place.

So, I waited. I was tucked between my flimsy covers, with my plain and plate pillow, eyes glued to the ceiling. I waited for the noise of pleasantry talk to cease. They were uncovering beds, changing clothes, exchanging half minded jokes.

Names were thrown. I did not know who was who. I did not know what the nickname was an what was the real name. There was a mishmash of gibberish in accordance with the general commotion provoked by many bodies charged with preparations for a single task, sleep in this case.

Sprites had to sleep. They were not feed nectar, nor ambrosia. They did not have the bodies of the gods that were able to amass a huge quantity of divine energy. They needed to recharge in the mortal way.

There will be a long night awaiting me. I could sleep, if I strained myself enough. That was mainly due to my continuous use of my powers to hide my true self. Playing another role was more exhausting than I previously anticipated. I would show more respect to the actors from now on.

"They hadn't had they?"

The sprite that occupied the low bed, the bed under me asked. Another answered:

"Pff, no! But they did not even try to be honest. Why would they want to find her after all?"

"I don't know. Are they comfortable knowing that our Empress is nowhere to be found?"

The following voice came not from the left, but from the right. Apparently, the discussion was gathering some interest in the room, because other climbed off the beds to join in. I groaned covering my face. I knew what they were talking about.

"Sure they know. But they are telling us nothing. That is why we haven't heard anything about her."

"I personally did not like her. All that aggravation and agitation that she made? For what? Hear me out, those that scream too loud "I am the victim" may be hiding something."

"I liked her. She had the pack of wyverns."

"Oh, yeah. The same pack that destroyed the entire city. That? There are entire teams assigned just for cleaning the rumble left after her."

"Yes, is true. I have some friends that work there."

"I hate her. I loved the Emperor."

"Shhhh."

"Shhh."

They stopped. They shushed the naïve sprite that dared to give voice to such a troublesome thought.

A long pause followed. I thought that they had fallen asleep when the sprite under me spoke again:

"I heard there was some zealous at her temple. A devotee down in Roia, that burned his knees and arms as he stood three nights and three days in a row in front of Roia's temple, praying."

If I were to see my face now I knew that I would see the face of one that wanted the earth to swallow her whole. Roia was not a goddess that received that much attention from the mortals. There was barely a temple raised in her name and a little town assigned to take care of it. I—Roia was not used with zealous, with those that tended to fall in the extremes  of  the belief.

I heard the prays of the zealous. It had been hard to ignore them. They were like a continuous ruffling of branches and feathers that kept playing on a loop in the back of my head. His words were mangled. The way that the words had to journey from the HR tom me affected them.

But the pray, the words in the praying did not matter as much as the pray in itself. It was more of a call of which the tune did not bode that much weight. The pull to go to HR and see the human was there, but it was not unbearable.

"Our God has trouble sleeping because of it."

The sprite under me continued. Ah, so she did not work at the funnel, she had to work in the Sun God's house. She had to be a house servant. This was valuable information.

"He was close to the goddess Roia. Maybe that is way. After all, he mourned her disappearance."

I scoffed.

"They are still that close that he can hear the ones that pray to her?"

"That is so romantic."

"Whatever. Good riddance."

Some nodded, some kept their silence, but the majority remained indifferent. What is going to do to them a goddess that was no longer present amongst them?

I wanted to say that it did not hurt. Why would I care? I do not know them and they do not know me. I hugged my knees. I bit hard. There were tears streaming down my cheeks. There were servants whispering under. There was loneliness and a gaping desperation that crept closer and closer with every roll of sand in an ethereal clepsydrae.

//15.08.2020//18.25//