Do the gods regret?
I spun the rose gold faucets that reminded me of a ship's wheel without the bulbous edges. The similarly coloured tap dripped to life before water that steamed poured into the black marbled claw foot tub.
Did the gods lament? Did they understand what it meant to face the consequences brought to you only by your own hand?
I tied my twists up into a messy bun as I got into the shower. I used a honey scented soap to lather my skin. I hummed a tune. I had heard it from another world.
My favourite lyrics had to be ‘Heaven and Hell were words to me’.
Are they swallowed by the forward marching of time? Can they undo the irreparable? Or do they watch quietly hoping that their mistakes don’t breed misery?
‘My baby’s sweet as can be, she gives me tooth aches just from kissing me’.
To The gods who dictated what was blasphemous, could they undo what had been done or were there circumstances where even divinity was insignificant?
‘No grave can hold my body down, I’ll crawl home to her’.
I rinsed off the suds and stepped out the shower. The towels smelled of the suns. I took the pristinely white towel off the hook, before closing the tap of the nearly filled tub. I added the scent of valerian to the water before lighting candles that then came to life on the little black table next to the tub.
I sat in the comfortably hot water and gazed out of the floor to ceiling windows that had red peonies blooming around them. I enjoyed hearing the water overflow as I settled in. The bleak landscape quietly yawned behind the black window panes.
As a god. I wasn’t sure which one, I was. The mere fact that I understood that my divinity could not mend my decisions. I wondered if my regret made me less of a god. I sighed and placed my arms over the rim of the tub.
The sound of water dripping onto the soft white tiling was loud. I smacked my teeth. I hated being alone too long. I pondered on stupid things.
The gods were dead.
The writing seared into my palms told of what I had done. Of what I decided. I found that it was such a wicked game.
After all the only things I was allowed to remember were my beginning, my love, my demise and him.
I heard knocking from my bathroom door that slid. Having one that locked gave Wren anxiety.
‘Master?’ Wren’s velvet voice called.
Bittersweet.
I sighed before I splashed my face and once again glanced at my palms as I stepped out of the tub. I sniffed the towel, their scent gave me a nostalgic feeling. I quietly took solace in that fact for now. I was surrounded by my favourite scent.
‘Master?’ he called again and I pulled the plug of the tub.
He always requested that I answered him after he had called me once.
‘I’m here Wren,’ I said before I made my way to the door and slid it open with a smile on my face. Wren only frowned down at me.
He was simply beautiful. He had hair as alluring as obsidian. Layered curtain bangs accentuated his features. His eyelashes were long and inky only serving to compliment his sage green eyes that held specks of forest green in them. His nose was long and his mouth full and soft. He towered over me as I stopped at his chest.
I tried broadening my smile to win him over, but his frown only deepened.
‘You have a meeting with the Aadhya today,’ he said, ‘Stop stalling, let’s go see the love of your life,’ he teased as he left my room and I rolled my eyes.
Aadhya was the Southern city of the Salem region. The city I controlled was Arleth. We met once every 12 months or every Lyhmo. We avoided silly things like wars and exchanged power over the Ether every 100 years.
It was cordial.
It was polite.
It was neat.
Repetitive.
Salem was the land where Ancients and the Old gods had fallen to once they had lost their divinity. Most of these falls resulted in their creation going mad and roaming Salem as wild beasts. Other regions sent their recruits to get stronger in ours. Honestly outside of the two cities Salem was nearly desolate.
I chose a white suit with a low v cut in the front and a silver body chain underneath. I added a matte red lipstick and placed a red peony in my breast pocket since the flower always appeared around me with or without my consent. Somehow, these flowers seemed happier around me, but the nasty things killed any other flowering plants that were in my vicinity for one whole day. Any other flowers brought into my home would wither and red peonies would be fully bloomed from the centre. I placed a simple black hair band on to keep my hair out of my face. It looked almost slicked back. I wore long silver earrings and black Blue Blood heels.
Blue Blood was a shoe brand that made sure that every shoe with a blue sole had been manufactured by them. A pair of shoes cost 3 to 9 Spinel. The brand of course, albeit a little morbid used only the blood of fallen Kings and the heads of fallen noble families to dye the soles of their shoes. The image of an upside down French Marquise crown with the date that the shoe was finished was painted on the bottom with a special ink that never faded.
I walked out of my room. The frames of Wren’s black and orphan blue art work contrasted the house rather nicely.
I found Wren sitting with his legs open and arms hanging off the back of the white sofa. The soft light coming in from outside seemed to dance around him. He had on a 3 piece black pin stripe suit with a navy blue shirt. Black socks and black formal Blue Blood shoes. His waist length hair was in a high pony tail.
He took a deep breath when he saw me and got up. He grabbed the keys from the hook by the door while having both our coasts on his arm. He opened the door for me and we made our way to the garage.
Wren of course loved sports cars while I didn’t have a preference honestly. So the garage had 3 super cars that in my opinion could be considered ugly, but to Wren they were his treasure. However, since it was a formal affair we got into the SUV. Naturally, me in the back and Wren acting as my chauffer since it was a business meeting.
In order to make no one feel favoured or at a disadvantage, meetings between Aadhya and Arleth were held in Ether. Which had been built specifically in the exact centre of the two cities.
Wren often enjoyed songs from the other world and played them on long drives.
‘Two sinners can’t atone from a lone prayer, souls tied, intertwined by our pride and guilt,’ the song played and I hummed along.
‘Are you in need of anything Master?’ Wren asked and I smiled before shaking my head no. I gazed out of window and watched Salem from up close.
Salem had roads, walkways and pathways made from grey bricks. Its grass was white and thin, like a grassland that never had its colours filled in. Unlike other regions Salem had an eternal twilight. It was made beautiful in how we seemed to be stuck in a never ending painting.
Outcasts and runaways preferred Arleth, while orphans and the odd somehow always settled in Aadyah. In Salem, unlike other regions we only accepted 3 currencies: Beryl, Spinel and Birr.
It was pricey and considered unforgiving, however the forgiving perished in Salem.
Goodness and mercy had been left to the remnants of the gods.
‘Sometimes, it just takes your breath away doesn’t it?’ I said. It wasn’t much of difference, but it was there.
The morning twilight was a velvet blue and gentle orange, almost separated by the suns that never came. While the evening twilight was a blue kind of gentle purple and a delicate pink. The white grass seemed to glow and never faded into darkness.
‘Yeah… yeah, it does Master,’ he replied.
The silence between us was filled with foreign songs and I allowed myself to relax.
Once we arrived at the Ether. Wren parked the car at the entrance before he got out and opened my door for me.
Ether was a house of sin wrapped up in elegance. It had 9 above ground floors and 3 underground floors. The first 9 were for guests brave enough to come to Salem.
We only offered the best in luxury and debauchery.
My interests, however were only in the lower 3. The first lower floor held Noir. It was larger than the hotel as it housed communities and had become its own society.
The second lower floor was for torture and prostitution. The prostitutes had the left and the torture took place on the right side. It was called Gomorrah.
The final was Ethel and that was our destination.
The guard at the door handed each of us, a black mask with black floral mesh over it, to hide our eyes. A valet took our car and one of my men Arthur met us at the large tinted glass doors that were the entrance of Ether. He pressed his palm to scanner and the doors opened.
Arthur was a lanky guy who loved being clean. He always wore a crisp dress shirt, slacks, black knee high socks and shiny dress shoes on these occasions. He had round rimmed glasses that softened his sharp and angular features. He had thin lips, pale skin, brilliantly blue eyes, strawberry blonde hair that he kept tapered at the sides and slicked back on top. He always smelt of peaches.
The foyer was always cool in temperature with someone playing the violin somewhere. The foyer had light tones of sandy brown, gold, cream and white. Extravagant chandeliers made of expensive jewels and delicate finishes hung above major entrances. Ether looked to be made more of glass than white stone.
Arthur escorted us to the elevator and gave us access by once again pressing his palm to the scanner.
He bowed as we walked passed him. I ignored the Aadhyan lackey opposite of him. The black elevator doors dinged open and Amell was waiting for us in the red velvet interior along with another Aadhyan lackey.
Amell quite frankly was healing to look at. He was rather quiet, but had an expressive face. He had dark green hair that was nearly black that he kept short at the sides with a middle part. Slightly tanned skin, a toned frame and mono-lidded almond eyes.
The four of us quietly listened to the sounds of the elevator. The lackey shifted uncomfortably from time to time since he was dwarfed by Amell and Wren. The doors dinged when we reached Ethel.
This was the last layer of the Ether. Only members of the Aadhyan council, Arleth executives and their representatives could pass through the barrier that started at the elevator doors. Ethel held black, steel blue, cream and silver as a colour scheme.
Amell bowed as we left the elevator. I walked to the receptionist on this level. Her name was Zuriel.
‘Good morning my lord,’ she said happily. ‘The Adhyan just arrived, about 5 minutes ago, please do follow me,’ she continued as she got up from her seat.
Zuriel was full of freckles. Her skin was a deep medium brown and her freckles light brown. However they were so densely packed on her skin that she might as well have been considered both colours. She had a button nose, full lips and light brown down turned eyes. She had a black afro that she always adorned with red peonies.
For some reason she was always happy to see me. Her cheery mood often made these meetings a little easier.
She opened the door to conference hall 6 and I entered first while Wren followed. Zuriel shut the door behind us.
He smiled at me.
And it gave me the chills.