~Fate's Children~
Oris knew that few greeted Deádims this way anymore. The myth that gazing upon the skin of the Holy Ones would lead to a person bursting into flames had been disproved long ago but a monarch had been taught the same histories taught to a nun—a fact Oris was thankful for.
She pulled her fingers over her shut eyes and kissed their tips once before clasping her hands to greet the High Priestess as though she were a royal. "Thank you for saving me, Holy One."
"I did not save you, the female god Aluta did."
At the mention of the moon god, Oris' mood dropped slightly. The fact that Sūn's counterpart had somehow played a part in her healing wasn't pleasing to hear, though it proved that the Deádim did invoke upon the gods to have her healed, presumably with Hermes' permission which meant that he had truly saved her life.
The thought made her mouth sour because now she would somehow have to repay the debt before killing him lest she be judged by the gods for breaking a pact of blood.
She straightened her back and wiped the emotion from her face before setting her gaze on the woman before her, examining the tight curls of the white hair shaved close to her scalp and the milky hue of her irises.
"You do not believe in the gods," the Deádim said the moment Oris recovered and propped up the smile hidden behind the veil. She tilted her head to the side, allowing Oris to take in the dark swirls of ink that had been etched into one half of her face.
At their thinnest widths, the strokes danced above her brow and beneath her lashes, crossing the bridge of her nose then scattering down her cheek and jaw like petals to disappear down the high collar of her dress. In the candlelight that flooded the room, they looked like liquid gold, imparting undoubtable godliness to the Deádim's visage.
Legends said that the markings were a letter from the god that claimed a Deádim as their vessel. The more of them they had, the closer they were to their god. There had been a time where all monarchs had to be Deádims.
"I believe the gods exist. I believe that they influence everyday life and give power to their believers but I do not worship them," Oris said, her voice soft and disarming.
She wasn't shocked that her ruse had been seen through so quickly. It was only obvious that a vessel of the gods would be able to sense the presence of a servant of the gods. She would also be able to sense lies, so Oris only told the truth.
She would not lie about being a nun, and at the same time, she would not prove the fact that she was otherwise. If the gods had not revealed her intention to kill Hermes, in order to keep things equal they would not reveal a secret that would make the Emperor actively seek to end her.
Fate did not allow uneven yokes and it was obvious that Hermes could have her killed at any time. She did not hold any advantage in this situation, that much was clear.
"A faithless nun," the Deádim mused in a deep voice that had Oris shaking her head. "And yet beloved by the gods."
"Not faithless. I have faith in Mother Earth, Fate and Death," she said. "I worship the Deific Trinity."
And my forgotten god, she added quietly in her mind despite knowing that the High Priestess could not read her thoughts, the patron god of Orse, Asaeō.
"The Ones Before," the Deádim nodded in understanding, for there were many who chose only to worship the Blessed Three. "You do not trust The Ones After and yet they gave me guidance to save you."
"The Ones I trust monitor the gods. If Fate predetermined my continued existence, it is not their place to object."
"Then you worship Fate more than the others."
"And the gods are his children and those of Mother Earth. That knowledge is unchallenged."
The candles in the room flickered, blown by a gust of wind Oris could not feel. The Deádim held up her palm and the flames stilled. "Some of the gods are not be pleased to hear you dismiss them as children so openly."
"They can smite me if they wish," Oris said, sure that they would not, "but that would not change my beliefs."
She had never worshipped the gods. She had not been raised to do so.
Her adopted family did not believe in beings they could not see, and she had always been taught that the gods were not to be trusted.
Mother Earth's glory was visible everyday—the seasons, the rivers, the mountains and hills. Death's hand could be felt after the birth of a new creature—every day of life was a show of his grace. Fate controlled the destinies of every being created by Mother Earth and kept Death's hand still—he was the reason most life persisted.
The other gods did whatever they wished with little regard to mortals, just for the sake of entertainment. They chose their champions then wrought havoc on the world. The most recent being Sūn and his chosen champion who started a long war and succeeded in uniting all the States under his banner with no care for the casualties involved.
The Deádim nodded as though she understood and raised her hand; the keys tinkled in her loose grip. "What is it you need these for?"
Oris paused and considered how to answer. She did not know whether the Deádim would help her save the true Empress Dowager, so she decided not to be daring and risk it. "I met a woman in the dungeons who gave them to me."
"You wish to set her free."
"It is only just that I help those who have helped me," Oris said, her gaze levelled on the priestess. She needed those keys even if they unlocked no door.
Now that Bren knew that she was here, they could plan a way to get the Naritan Queen out of the dungeons when they started exchanging correspondence.
"Very well." The Deádim tossed the keys on the bed. "The gods do not tell me to take so I shall not and give instead. The Emperor has been informed, as you know."
Oris reached down and took the keys. They were rusty and dirty but she held it in her tightest grip. Aella was still in her cell, and these keys were the only things that could save her. "The locks cannot be replaced in one night."
"You were not asleep for one night." The holy priestess lowered her hand and turned to leave the room, the train of her dress trailing elegantly behind her.
"Wait, Holy One," Oris called out after a pause, "I still have questions."
"Yes," the Deádim turned slightly to address her, "but I cannot answer much, I am afraid. This room is yours from now on. Your status has been elevated far above the other women."
"Because," Oris frowned, forcing the words out of her mouth, "I saved the Emperor."
The Deádim nodded imperceptibly. "You were unjustly imprisoned and nearly died. Much of your part of the selection was missed as a result. The court has judged your situation, and you will be summoned soon to hear its decision."
"And the room?"
"Do not fear. It is I who gifted it to you. If you do not like my maids, you can have them replaced."
Before Oris could say another word, the High Priestess left the room, and her thoughts drifted to the words she had heard the moment she had woken up.
"The Emperor and Deádim are sleeping in the same quarters," she said to herself. "She gifted me a room. . . Does that mean that this was Hermes' order?"
Chambers arranged for me by the Deádim and Emperor, the maid said, and yet just now... Oris sighed, just about to dismiss the absurd idea when someone knocked on the doors.
She let her gaze drift to them just as a they creaked open and a soft voice whispered, "Mistress?"
~
Had so much to say, now I can't remember T_T