Threads of fate, p.13
Threads of Fate, page 13
Standing again, Roan stretched. “I’m done with business here. How are things at the camp?”
Jes waved his hands. “The new recruits are injuring themselves on the obstacle course, as expected, but they’re good. They’ll be a good addition for the Region.”
While each Region was prohibited by the King to form any sort of army, they were allowed to have their own guards to oversee safety. Jes ran the Nacht guard like a well-oiled machine since Roan’s Godhood appointment fifty years before. Jes was a hardass and pushed the guard to their limits but they all respected him. It had become a place of honor to sign up as a recruit under Captain Jesiel Keita’s guard. Roan smiled with pride knowing their Region had the most volunteer recruits while Marek’s guard was run entirely on forced conscription.
Jes stood, pushing the chair out behind him, and stretched out his wings. “Well, I guess now that both of our business is finished, we can return home.” He motioned for Roan to walk ahead as they walked out of the room. Most everyone knew they were casual with one another, but likely not the full extent of their friendship. In public they had to walk under the presentation of Roan, the Governing God, and Jes, the Beskermer, always ready to protect Roan at a moment’s notice.
When Jes and Roan walked through the side door, Roan stopped abruptly. The door next to the breakfast table was open and he could hear an unfamiliar laugh. The sound filled his ears and his heart tugged, as if he was hearing a forgotten song. He glanced at Jes, who shrugged, seeming not nearly as phased by it as Roan was. Jes pointed to his bedroom door and Roan nodded as he walked away. Apprehensively, Roan popped his head through the side door and stared at the sight in front of him.
Orah had her hair pulled back into some kind of lopsided bun. She was wearing an apron, but it didn’t appear to protect her from any of the flour covering every inch of her. She and Clarah were laughing as she cut triangles of dough. Roan’s heart beat wildly in his chest.
“So, usually, they end up as triangles, but you can really cut them to be any shape you want. You just want them to be wide enough for a slice of cheese.” Clarah nodded her head enthusiastically. Roan’s heart jolted. Clarah was almost an adult, but he knew she missed her mother. Watching someone spending time with her like this was almost enough to bring tears to his eyes.
“My Lord?” Roan peered over at Xade, whom he hadn’t noticed was grabbing something from the pantry by the table. He looked back over at Orah and found her staring at him now. Clearing his throat, he stepped fully into the room. To his surprise it appeared as though they hadn’t stopped cooking all day. Yohan usually prepared breakfast and lunch but then left for several hours with Xade and Clarah before coming back to prepare dinner.
“It sounded busy in here and I thought I’d check in. You’re all usually not here this time of day.”
Clarah beamed. “Oh! Father still went out. He said he needed to go to the shops, but we decided to stay with Orah. Did you know she can actually cook, My Lord? And she’s good! She’s been showing us how to make things from her world!”
Orah stared down at the floor and a small simmer of her embarrassment settled over Roan. He smiled, wondering if she didn’t know how to take a compliment. “That sounds fantastic. Orah, may I try something you’ve made?”
Her cheeks flushed and she glanced at Clarah, who was still beaming. “Um, I guess. We’re just making some scones now. It was a bit difficult figuring out what was the same here compared to home for the ingredients, but I think they turned out alright.”
“That sounds fantastic.”
Clarah grinned and ran for Roan, grabbing his hand and leading him to the oven where a pan sat with some of the triangles inside. On the counter was a plate with finished scones on top. Roan felt Orah’s warmth behind him before she spoke.
“We kind of went a bit overboard.” She chuckled and picked up one of the scones. He watched as she sliced the scone in half and spread a bit of butter over both sides. Clarah returned with a slice of cheese and Orah placed it on top before sandwiching both pieces together. She held it out toward him. “It’s something I grew up eating. A bit of a comfort food for me.”
Roan took the scone. It smelled incredible, like flour, but he could pick up hints of the butter and cheese. Smiling at Orah, he took a bite and gasped as the taste hit his tongue. “I can see why this is something comforting to you.” Realizing he was speaking with his mouth full, he covered his mouth.
Clarah laughed and turned to her brother. “Xade, he likes it!”
Orah maintained eye contact for a moment. “I’m glad you like it.” She turned to go back to the table when the sound of the front door slamming open caused them both to jump. Roan felt her fear wash over him and she threw him a panicked look. Roan had no idea who had managed to get the door open, but he watched as Jes ran down the hall with his sword in his hands. Roan glanced back at Orah and then ran to see who had intruded.
Her intrigue and fear followed close behind him and he didn’t know whether he should have been annoyed or impressed that she had run out to face the intruder.
Arriving at the door, Roan’s anger shifted to annoyance at the man standing in front of his door with a wide grin staring at Jes, as if challenging him to wield his sword. Crossing his arms, Roan glared. “What do you want, Moros?”
Moros smiled that sly smile Roan hated. “My mother has some news for you.”
Orah stopped behind Roan, staring at the man standing in the front doorway. He was about the same height as Roan. His dark hair went just past his shoulders. His eyes were a similar blue to Roan’s, but there was no silver. She took in his sleeveless top that put his stark white tattoos that stopped at the base of his neck on display. The tattoos themselves contrasted against his dark skin. Orah’s eyes widened. Another attractive person?
The man stared at Jes and chuckled. “Surprised to see you pulling your sword out in public now, Jesiel.” Jesiel’s hand quickly released its grip the sword at his side and he glanced at Roan. Orah wasn’t sure who this stranger was, but he obviously got under their skin.
The man glanced at Orah and smiled. “I didn’t know you had the kitchen help assigned to guard duty, Roan.”
She looked down at herself, realizing she was covered in flour. She had lost track of time and stopped caring about the mess hours before. She folded arms.
“Moros, this is Orah, my guest. She’s just been spending time with the kitchen staff today,” Roan said. “Orah, this is my cousin, Moros.”
Cousin. She wondered how big Roan’s family actually was.
Moros walked forward and flung his hand out. A rush of ice-cold wind slammed the door shut and she gasped as the temperature in the room dropped. “Guest.” He sounded out the word long and slow as he approached. “Interesting. Roan, why am I never invited as a guest?” He looked at Jesiel now. Orah’s eyes followed to find Jesiel standing in that unnaturally still way he usually would.
Roan stepped forward and crossed his arms. “Because you do things like make my house an ice box, and I’d rather my favorite parts of me not freeze off. Please stop showing off.”
Orah flushed at Roan’s comment and cursed herself for where her mind went. Moros grinned, and the temperature suddenly rose. Staring down at her feet, she gasped, finding ice forming on the ground. “What on Earth?” she whispered.
“So, you sent word to my mother.” Moros waved his hand indifferently.
Orah’s brow rose. “Mother?” She didn’t like situations where she had no idea what anyone was talking about.
Roan kept his eyes on his cousin. “Yes. Moros’ mother is Amada, my Aunt, the Goddess of Wisdom. It appears that she’s sent him here to provide us with her update. Not sure why. Moros can be rather annoying.”
Orah’s heart began to beat rapidly. His Aunt, the Goddess of Wisdom. The Aunt he had told her he’d requested information from. Hope filled her. She might get to go home. Roan grabbed her hand softly and she felt herself focusing again. Moros stared at their clasped hands and smiled wide. She removed hers from Roan’s and stood a bit taller. “Well, if you have an update then please don’t keep us waiting.”
Roan snorted and turned to his cousin. Moros shook his head. “Well, considering your guest is just a mortal and I’m the God of Wintur, I would think I’d get to place the terms and conditions on when and where I share this information.”
The lights in the room flashed on and off and Roan stepped forward. “Oh, do calm your temper, Roan,” Moros said. “My mother made me duty bound to share this as soon as possible.” He sauntered over to the sitting room and bumped into the side of Orah’s shoulder. His eyes flared. “I will be waiting in here while your guest goes and cleans herself up. I won’t talk to a walking sack of flour.”
Orah scoffed. He had a point; she was filthy, and she could feel the flour against her skin, but she still didn’t appreciate his attitude. “Fine, your Lordship,” she said sarcastically, bowing low. Roan’s eyes twinkled in amusement and she turned toward the stairs, determined to get answers out of Moros. She wasn’t going to let him hold the possibility of her getting home in his hands.
Orah showered and dressed quickly before returning downstairs where she found Roan, Jes, Lahana, and Moros in the sitting room waiting for her.
“Finally.” Moros flipped his hand out as if she had inconvenienced him.
“Oh, please shut up Moros,” Lahana snapped.
“You should remember to respect me Na-Na, I do have some information you all asked for.”
“Please get to the point, Moros,” Roan interjected while he motioned for Orah to sit down on the chair next to him. Lahana and Moros were seated on the couch across from her and Jes stood near the window. His expression was tight, as though he were uncomfortable, and she wondered whether he had moved an inch since placing himself in that spot.
“My mother said that you had asked if it were possible for doors from other worlds to open.” Moros turned toward Roan.
“Yes, that’s right,” Roan replied, obviously annoyed.
“This is so interesting. My mother was very confused as to why you would have sent word for information like this, but I think I understand.”
Orah glanced at Roan, unable to ignore how tightly he was clenching his jaw. “What is it you understand?”
Moros flipped his hair back from his shoulder. “What?” He smirked “Oh. Never mind.”
Roan and Lahana let out an exasperated sigh.
“Fine, I suppose I should get out with it.” Moros’s eyes fell on Jesiel for a moment before he began. “My mother assumed that you must have read some fantastical story in that big library of yours, but she did take the time to research any information the scholars have.” He leaned back a bit and crossed his legs. “As you know, the scholars are aware of other worlds. We’re all aware that the powers we Governing Gods hold here influence these other worlds.” Orah tried and failed to hide her shock at the statement. Moros’s eyes flashed to hers. “However, any knowledge on traveling to and from other worlds seems to be lost, or the Fates have prevented us from finding out more about it.”
That’s it? That’s all the Goddess of Wisdom could tell us? Orah couldn’t help but feel defeated.
“Thank you for the information, Moros. I’ll be sure to send my thanks to Amada myself,” Roan replied.
Orah watched Moros stand. “You know, Marek mentioned you had something surprising here, but he definitely left out just how surprising she is.” Suddenly, the doors to the sitting room slammed shut and the lights faded. The room became dark and heavy. She expected to see the starlight that Roan made appear before, but the only thing lit in the room was him. His starlight crown burned as though it were on fire atop his head as he approached Moros. “My brother tends to leave out anything that doesn’t benefit him.”
The temperature dropped again. Orah shivered and watched the puffs of breath coming from Roan through his light when Moros spoke. “It appears that he does.”
The lights faded back on and she blinked at the sudden brightness in the room. Moros walked to the sitting room doors and flung them open. Staring at them for a moment, he turned back to Roan. “Oh yes. One last thing. Not sure how I forgot to mention this. Mother said the knowledge to travel between worlds seems to align with how we travel between Regions.” Roan tensed. “She thinks there may have once been doors or portals to other worlds, but she wasn’t sure.” Moros waved his hand and a flurry of snow enveloped him, but once the snow settled to the ground, he was nowhere to be seen.
“What does he mean about how you travel between Regions?” Orah asked, frustrated and disappointed by the lack of answers the Goddess had to offer. She thought they were back in the same place as before.
Roan stared at the doors when he spoke. “Our world is rather large, and we have doors—or more so portals—that we use to quickly get to and from each Region.”
“Portals?” Orah echoed.
“Yes. They’re essentially a rip in the world you can walk through. Say I wanted to follow Moros to his Region right now, all I’d have to do is go to the portal in the city and think of his Region and I’d appear there once I’d walked through.”
“But you can’t travel to other worlds in that way?” She was trying very hard to understand their world, but the more she learned, the more confused she felt.
Roan rubbed his jaw. “No, we can’t. As Moros mentioned, we’re very aware of other worlds, and it’s believed that at one point there was a way to visit them, but that knowledge has been lost to time. It’s why I sent word to Amada to see if she could find out anything more about it.” He leaned back against the chair and stared at the ceiling, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.
Orah surveyed the room. Jesiel hadn’t moved and Lahana was staring at Roan. “But I don’t understand. If you have these portals to go to other Regions, can’t the same magic be used to go to other worlds?”
“You would think that. But no. No one knows who created the portals to travel between regions. We believe it was the Fates, but we’re not sure,” Lahana responded.
“You all keep mentioning these Fates. Can one of you explain to me who or what they are?” Orah asked.
Jesiel moved now and turned to face Orah. Somehow, she hadn’t noticed before that the feathers on his wings were ruffled, practically spiked straight up. “The Fates created time, Orah. Time and all who abide by it. It’s also believed that the Fates created this world and every other world out there.”
“Where are they?”
Jes turned back to the window. “They live on an island—the island of Tiid.”
“Do they have a Governing God?”
“In a way,” Jes replied, turning his attention to Roan.
Roan responded, “You see, the Fates created all. They can see the past, present, and future. They’re honestly more powerful than any one of us, but because of that knowledge and power, they decided they would not rule. They appointed the first King of Gods and have acted as a sort of balancing hand since then. They won’t interfere in things knowing that certain threads of fate will lead to one outcome, and others can lead to a different one, but they do their best to ensure balance. The one who guides their Island is called Eon.”
“But they’re not Gods?”
“They’re beyond Gods. They’re the Fates, they are what they are. There’s not really any other way to describe it. Eon is also neither God nor Goddess. Eon is the Fate. Eon watches over time and is the one the Fates turn to when things begin to fall out of balance.”
Orah pulled her knees up, resting her chin against them. “So, we still have no answers.” She stared at the floor. The warmth she had felt while working in the kitchen was quickly shifting to that familiar numb cold. She took a deep breath and let it out. By the time she looked up she found Roan’s eyes on her.
“We will keep searching. There’s a chance my aunt missed something. She may be the Goddess of Wisdom, but our world is very old, and we have a lot of history. She or the scholars could have skipped over something important.”
Silence fell over the room until a knock at the door sounded and Xade’s voice filled the room. “My Lord? Dinner is ready.”
Lahana and Jes walked past them and followed Xade out of the room, but Orah tensed at the thought of going into the dining room. Roan walked over to her chair and crouched down, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Let’s go eat, Orah. We’ll figure out how to get you home. I promise.” She stared at the hand he had extended toward her. “Please.” Roan’s voice softened.
She looked at his hand and then back into his eyes. There was a sadness in his eyes that she couldn’t place. Her chest tightened and she continued staring at him. Those eyes felt familiar, as though she’d looked at them in her dreams before. She blinked and stared back down at his hand. Hesitantly, she grabbed it and allowed him to help her off the chair. Gazing at their palms, she smiled at how perfectly they fit together. She stared as a light began to shimmer between their palms. Her heartbeat quickened and she looked up at Roan. He was staring at her with a smile and walked toward the door, pulling her with him. She couldn’t seem to allow herself to let go of his hand as he walked past the dining room toward the kitchen.
Orah was pleasantly surprised to find what a normal dinner was like for them. Yohan and his children apparently stayed and ate at the Manor most nights, so Roan, Lahana, and Jes usually joined them at the table in the kitchen. The meal wasn’t extravagant by any means, but it was delicious; a hearty stew and the scones she made with Clarah. Orah had blushed when everyone at the table loudly complimented her on her baking.
After they had finished their meal and cleared the table, Ms. Perri and Kai joined them. Yohan pulled out several bottles of wine and she sat in wonder watching as everyone laughed and drank together.
Like one happy family.
After what felt like hours, her head felt light and dizzy and she knew she had consumed too much wine and needed sleep. “Thank you for the wonderful evening. I think I’m going to excuse myself and head to bed,” Orah announced, as she stood from the table.
