Chapter 6: chapter 6

Zachary fights off the urge to yawn as he enters Lucius’ private chambers.  More than a month has passed since he and Ariel were brought to the Holy Aelia Empire, but he still can’t get used to waking up before 6.  On the days he needs to get up out of bed before 5, he considers forsaking everything and joining the Dreaded One.  Today, though, he isn’t all that bothered by it.

 

While suppressing a heavy sigh, he draws his seat at the table and sits down.  Lucius, their host while in the city of Ostia and the one who called that sudden meeting, is already waiting for everyone.  His expression is stern.  From it, Zachary has a good guess at what they will be talking about.

 

Lucius glances at him and says, “I’m surprised.  You’re the first one here.”

 

Zachary shrugs.  “It sounded important.”

 

“Our discussion most certainly will be.”  Faustina also enters the room.  She takes her seat at Zachary’s right and continues.  “I never imagined you would arrive before anyone else.”

 

Ariel and Antonius enter together soon after.  They sit down at Zachary’s left and Faustina’s right respectively.

 

Antonius is the first to break the silence.  “So, why did you have us called here so early?”

 

Lucius glances around the table to make sure he has everyone’s attention.  With a heavy tone, he speaks that which he was only told less than an hour ago.  “I’m sure you all recall that… Daughter of the Dreaded One we encountered the other day?  She left Ostia in the company of Valkyrja Geira along with a second Daughter of the Dreaded One.”

 

Ariel covers her face with a gasp.  “A- a second one?  Shouldn’t we stop them?”

 

Antonius reassures her with a smile as he says, “If necessary, we will.”

 

“Yeah, but is it necessary?”  Zachary cuts in between the two.  As he looks around the table, he feels his legs being tugged.  It reminds him of the legionaries he saw pulled underwater.  Each word comes out harder than the previous with anger lacing each of them.  “Were they responsible for what happened?”

 

Faustina reaches for Zachery’s hand.  The table hides it, but she slips her own into the hand on his lap where she then squeezes his palm.  The swift movement is done without any break in expression or posture.

 

Zachary, remembering himself at her warm touch, breathes out.  “Sorry, I got a bit carried away.”

 

Lucius dismisses the outburst with a wave his hand.  “No, you are one of our Apostles.  That outburst is a testament to how serious you take your role.  You do my noble blood proud.”  Despite those flattering words, his tone suggests otherwise.

 

“What happened to those Daughters of the Dreaded One?”  Antonius brings the conversation back to topic.  As soon as everyone is refocused, he adds, “I believe it safe to assume this revolves around them, yes?”

 

Lucius nods.  “That trio decided to set camp at a spring not far from here.  It is a well trafficked place where many people gather every night.  Then, a few hours ago, a horde of cacus swarmed down on all the travelers resting there.”

 

Ariel gasps as she covers her mouth.  “They called them?”

 

“No, according to the naiad of the spring, one rushed forward with a massive sword to help cut them down.  Apparently, that same lupa lead the cacus away from the spring and deeper into the forest where she proceeded to eliminate them.”

 

Ariel frowns as her expression fills with doubt.  “Wait… why?  Aren’t they all on the same side?  Why would those monsters help other people?”

 

Antonius makes a wry smile at Ariel’s rash assumption.  “You seem to have misunderstood.  Daughters of the Dreaded One are dangerous.  Each of them carries the potential for resurrecting their father, the Dreaded One, but that doesn’t guarantee allegiance.  As… living creatures, those puella defututa are no different from the typical peregrini.”

 

“What makes those moecha putida dangerous is their blood.”  Faustina continues the explanation.  Her tone is harsh and critical of them.  “As Daughters of the Dreaded One, they are walking nexuses of his tainted energies.  Wherever they go, trouble is drawn to them.”  Her anger then flares up as she finishes, “But more than that, they’re all always, always, conniving to make our glorious holy empire a cesspool of pandemonium and debauchery.  It’s as if they have nothing else to live for.”

 

Zachary, still holding Faustina’s hand, squeezes it back.  He gives her a light smile, before then turning to Lucius.  “By the way, if this just happened, how did you hear about it so fast?”

 

Lucius pauses to suppress his irritation at the ceaseless interruptions.  That one in particular bothers him by how it calls his credibility into question.  “Iasis was here with me when it happened.  Upon hearing what transpired there from her sister, she informed me.”

 

“Who’s Iasis?”

 

“Forgive me of this discourtesy.”  His tone is dry.  “I had planned to introduce you to her the day before, but it unfortunately slipped my mind with everything that happened.  Iasis is the naiad of Ostia.  Long ago, the Tiberis river that flows through our very Holy Capital once passed through here, but due to an ancient conflict, the terrain was changed and its course altered forever.  We were doomed to wither away without its life granting water, but Invictus Jupiter, in all his mercy and wisdom, granted us Iasis so that we might continue to prosper and protect our nation.”

 

******

 

Shana hugs her pillow to her face as she opens her eyes.  Despite having washed herself for over an hour the previous night, she still smells of blood and sweat.  Getting up, she shoves her futon into her dimensional storage and proceeds to the bathroom she made.

 

After unbuttoning her Hawaiian shirt, she undresses to reveal a large, nasty, bruise on her one side.  Her entire body is nicked with cuts and scrapes, although they already mostly healed.  Not paying them any mind, she uses alchemy to fill the empty tub with hot water.  She then takes a bucket of that water, pours it over herself, and then begins to scrub herself with soap and a bath scrub she pulled from her dimensional storage.  Although, each time she passes over the bruise, she winces.

 

“Need help with your hair?”

 

Shana’s hair whips around as she turns at the sudden offer.  Clumps of her damp hair wrap around her face, flicking droplets of water as they come to a stop.  Gravity soon exerts itself and her locks of hair flow down from her face to come to a rest on her shoulders. 

 

Geira looks Shana’s body over, paying extra attention to her chest.  They are too large to be considered petite but nowhere close enough to be considered endowed.  If she had to judge, she would call them perky and promising.  With an unseeming smile playing at her lips, she says, “You had a rough night.  Just relax and I’ll cleanse every last part of you.”

 

Shana, her expression flat, claps her hands together and a wall shoots up past Geira’s face.  Had the Valkyrja been half a step closer, she would have been clipped from underneath the chin.

 

Geira, her teasing leer long gone, taps the stone wall and confirms it’s made of solid rock.  The breeze that brushed past her face when it formed makes her grateful Shana had no intention of harming her.  Thinking otherwise sends a cold sweat down her back.  More important to her, however, is the clear rejection. 

 

Despite her reluctant sigh, her tone remains cheerful as she calls out to the girl beyond the divider.  “Thea and I will get breakfast ready in a bit, so just take your time.  But we’re going to want to hear everything.”

 

“Yeah, chill.  I said I’ll tell you, so I will.”

 

She then finishes washing and submerges herself within the bathtub.  As a lock of hair drapes down over her right eye, she goes to brush it back over her head only to have her fingers get stuck in the tangled mess that is her hair.  Thus, despite the annoyance of having to do so, she takes out the brush Geira bought her.

 

Not long later, Shana joins Geira and Thea by a small fire.

 

Geira looks at Shana’s hips and says, “Did you remember to put on some underwear?”

 

“Oh, shut up.  With everything that happened last night, the knots came loose.”

 

Geira nods while saying, “Sure, sure, I’m positive whoever finds it will conclude there was a fervent and wild exchange in the dead of night.”

 

Shana is at a loss over how to answer.  That is exactly what happened, but Geira’s teasing tone makes her hesitate.  “It’s probably covered in sweat, blood, and dirt.  Whoever finds it is just going to burn it.”

 

Thea watches the two argue and sighs.  Despite her exhaustion, she cuts in between them and says, “We should eat before the food gets cold.”

 

“She’s right, here.”  As Shana accepts the plate from Geira, her hair slides down and brushes against the Valkyrja’s arm.  The way it moves is much too smooth and dry for being fresh out of a bath, leaving the other girl staring.  Before Shana can question her, she scoffs and says, “You don’t know the first thing about proper hair maintenance!”

 

Shana’s expression twists with annoyance.  “The heck are you even going on about?”

 

“Your hair!  You dried it with magic!”
“Yeah, wet hair is annoying.”

 

Geira fights to keep her frustration from showing on her face, but her tone is flat.
“Did you brush your hair before or after drying?”

“While it’s wet, it’s easier that way.”
“And that’s it?”
“What, is their more?”
“Well, at least that is something, but you don’t know the first thing about your hair, do you?  Your hair is wavy.  That means you need to brush it while it’s still wet, first with your fingers than with your brush.  If not, you’ll end up with split ends, or worse, snap the strands.  Second, drying it from being fully wet will cause heat damage.”

 

Shana is ticked by Geira’s warning.  Just taking all of her advice into consideration is annoying.  One thing, however, stands out more than everything else.
“What are you… Didn’t you forcefully brush my hair when it was mostly dry?”
“Yes, with my brush.  A brush that has been blessed by Frawjōn Bastet herself.”

 

Shana shakes her head in exasperation.  “Well, no one cares about this.”

 

“Actually…”  Thea speaks up despite her reservations.  Hesitation clouds her face and she struggles to find the courage to clearly speak her desire, yet she latches onto the rare opportunity.  “My mother… I’ve always wanted… I never…”

 

While Shana’s expression falls at the revelation of her “blood-sister’s” interest in hair treatment, Geira’s expression brightens.  Glee fills her voice as she says, “I’ll teach you everything you need to know.  Then you can help me properly educate that shameful mess of a beauty over there.”

 

Shana clicks her tongue at the jab.  “Grow out your own hair and maintain that if this is so important to you.”

 

“I am!”  Geira’s outburst catches both Shana and Thea off guard.  Shana’s remark is all the reason her growing frustration needs to erupt.  While clutching her somewhat short hair, she continues, “It used to be so much longer than this, but then it caught fire!  Your hair was short when we first met.  Make mine long, too!”

Shana sneers at her as she says, “Can’t, sorry.  Targeting spells so that they affect another person’s body like that isn’t my area of expertise.  I could teach you the spell itself, but you’re not a magician.”

 

***

 

Vor soars high above the treetops.  Shana rides side saddle behind Geira while Thea is at the front.  There is no shade to protect them from the sun’s brilliant rays, but the speed with which Vor carries them ensures a refreshing breeze is on them at all times.

 

There is no discomfort in the trip, yet Shana wears a sour and irritated expression.  She does not want to be riding Vor.  The sole reason she agreed was because of their emergency.  If not because they want to quickly distance themselves from where they were, she’d never even consider touching his fur. 

 

Thea and Geira, however, are overjoyed.  Thea delights at being able to freely soar in the air like a bird while Geira takes satisfaction at being able to cuddle with the two girls.  Shana’s arm being wrapped around her waist from behind reminds her she never got to question the girl about anything she had been meaning to ask.  She has Vor slow down to a speed safer for speaking and says, “Shana, how are you fine? Last night, you were smashed into the ground and kicked like some ball.”

 

Shana dour expression hardens at the question.  “What happened to not speaking while flying?”

 

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“As if you care about that.”  She doesn’t want to risk forgetting again.  “Come on, Shana, with everything that happened, you should not be walking around like nothing with just a bruise to show for it.”

 

Shana’s initial impulse is to say she used a healing spell, but stops.  Geira got an eyeful of all the cuts still covering her body earlier that morning.  Such a lie would be seen through in an instant.  Instead, she gives a curt, “I’m stronger than I look.”

“Monsters aren’t even that durable.”
“What, are you saying my parents were monsters?  I’ll have you know I was born a normal human baby from normal human parents.”

 

Geira and Thea are both taken aback by the fierceness of Shana’s retort.  Concluding that flying on Vor must have her in a mood, neither of them say anything about it.  Instead, they allow silence to fall over the group.  After a bit more, Vor begins to descend. 

 

“Looks like Vor is starting to tire.”  At the same time, Giera reaches around Thea to pat Vor’s neck.  “Forcing him this hard with three people may have been a bit too much for him.”

 

With the gleeful words, “Say no more,” Shana slides off Vor’s back.

 

“Shana!?”  Geira loops Vor around to dive down after the girl, but she soon slows him to a glide.  Shana doesn’t need any rescuing.  Before she can gain too much momentum, she kicks off air, slows her descent, and repeats as she continues to drop.  She is literally hopping her way down.

 

Shana helps Thea off Vor once he lands.  As she lowers her “blood-sister” to the ground, she asks, “So, how far did your horse get us?”

 

“Shana,” Thea, still separating from her arms, gives a flat, “Vor is a pegasus, not a horse.”

 

Shana tucks hair from her face behind an ear while saying, “He has wings, big deal.”

 

Vor neighs in discontent.  Geira hops off his back and strokes his neck to sooth him.  Afterwards, she gives the girl a cross, “Shana, mind your words.”

“A horse with wings is still a horse.  More importantly, how far did we get?”

 

Geira’s expression darkens, but decides to let the issue drop.  Instead, she begins guiding everyone along.  At the same time, she says, “We cut out a few days of walking with that. As long as nothing happens, we should be able to reach Aquileia by nightfall.”

 

Not long later, Geira asks the second question that has been burning in the back of her mind.  “So, you mind telling us how you dealt with all those cacus already?”

 

Thea glances at Shana.  She has been waiting to hear how she overcame something she considered an impossible situation since returning to them the previous night.

 

Shana, completely oblivious to Thea's curiosity, takes a breath and says, “Dealing with them honestly wasn’t that hard.  Once I got them away from everyone, I targeted them one by one.  Helps that they were stupid.”

 

Geira raises an eyebrow at the assessment.  “And how’d you come to that conclusion?”

 

“Thea gave me the idea, but they pretty much confirmed it themselves.  Hell, the one waved me around like a trophy after catching me.”

 

Thea is stunned and moved by Shana’s admittance.  Her mind blanks as she realizes Shana based her actions against the cacus off of her words.  Never before has anyone ever placed such confidence in her.  Taking courage from that, she speaks with more confidence in her voice.  “What exactly did you do?  We heard a lot of explosions while following after you.”

 

“I had them chase illusions, set mines in the middle of clusters with alchemy, and cut down the strays with my sword.  Some trees may have ended up as ash in the process, too.”
“All while going commando.”

 

Shana clicks her tongue at Geira’s nudging.

 

Geira laughs and says, “Wait, I saw your sword go flying. How’d you get it back?”

 

“A spell of mine.  It lets me pull forth whatever it is I want most when I use it.”
“That’s convenient.”
“Not really.  What I think I want usually isn’t what I actually want.”

 

Shana’s hand then flies to her mouth.  Too late does she realize she let a guarded secret slip.  Miffed, she says, “I’m becoming way too chatty.”

Geira laughs and slaps Shana across the back.  “It just means you trust us.”

 

“We all met the other day…”
“Well, you’re a good judge of character.”

 

Hours later, they emerge from the forest. Greeting them are towering walls that span the horizon.  The projected illusion isn’t as massive as Ostia’s, only about half as high.  Regardless, it is an imposing sight.  The crimson sky dyed by the setting sun is completely block out.

 

Thea, seeing the long line waiting to pass through the gates of Aquileia, reaches for her hood.  She grasps at empty air behind her head a few times before realizing she no longer has one.

 

Geira takes her hand and guides it back down.  Then, as she sets herself at the girl’s side, she wraps her arm around her back and says, “Don’t worry, I am right here.  No matter what happens, I won’t let anything happen to you, either of you.  I’ve already given my word.”

 

Thea breathes out in relief upon being reminded.

 

Shana continues past them while saying, “Right, we’ll be counting on you when the time comes.”

 

“You have no sense of delicacy.” With that chide, Geira takes the lead.

 

The sun finishes setting by the time they reach the line of wagons waiting to enter the city.  For some reason, security was increases and floating spheres of light were set up for everyone’s convenience.  Geira, however, ignores everything and continues straight for the gate.

 

Shana watches the groups they pass.  At present she is examining a group of men wearing angarkhi and cummerbund and women in either sari or ghagra.  Most peculiar is they all have deep marine blue hair.  They are the third such group she has seen.  Her eyes linger on them for a few moments as she says, “Are they also like that guy from the other day?”

 

Geira and Thea both frown with confusion as they follow Shana’s gaze.  As they then turn back to her, Geira asks the question they are both thinking.  “What are you talking about?”

 

“You remember that guy who helped me fight those guards?”

 

Thea gasps and shoots back in a hushed voice.  “You fought the Vigiles at Ostia?”

 

“Yeah, but don’t worry too much, nothing came of it.  More importantly, there was a guy who helped me out.  I actually ended up carrying him in my arms for a bit, too.  Anyway, he had dark blue hair, and now I’m seeing a lot of people with the same hair color.  Weren’t impossible hair colors supposed to be special?”

 

Geira frowns.  She stares at Shana, hard, but the girl’s expression doesn’t betray any reason for distrust.  Instead, she is busy sliding her hair away from her face.  In the end, Geira sighs and says, “I’m quite curious to the kind of place Ponamu is…”

 

Thea, already shocked by Shana’s revelation of having fought the city Vigiles, finds herself at a loss.  In the end, she chooses to talk about what she knows.  “Shana, there is nothing strange about that hair color.  It is a normal color for those of Bharat to have.”

 

Shana's expression fills with doubt as she says, “Blue pigment is a very difficult color for nature to produce.  It, in any shade, is not a normal hair color.”

 

“You’re right,” Geira interrupts before anything more can be said.  “What I’m going to say isn’t well known.  It isn’t a secret, just knowledge that has been lost to time.”

 

Shana and Thea give Geira their full attention.  Only then, despite her reservations, does the Valkyrja continue.  “Back when our creators first peopled the world, black hair was a normal sight.  If anything, black hair was the most common hair color among the various ethnicities.  But then came the Dreaded One.  To keep their people from being confused with those he claimed as his own, the gods, with all their wisdom and mercy, intervened.  Those from Bharat like Prabhu-Viren now have a marine color while those of the Tang Dynasty have a crimson color.  Still, black hair was a part of their culture, so the gods made the new colors deep, close to black but not.”

 

Thea glances at Shana.  Whenever the girl is asked a question, she tends to answer regardless of how blatantly rude they are.  In fact, just the other day Geira asked her if she was on her period.  In regards to herself, Shana always treats her warmly.  It’s to the point that she refers to her as her own, “blood-sister.” 

 

Thea keeps all of that in mind and takes a deep breath.  She isn’t sure if she should continue the conversation, but she wants to ask about something that stood out to her.  “Shana… when you said blue is difficult for nature to produce… what did you mean?”

 

Shana is surprised by the question, but still says, “Just that.  Most of the blue we see in the world isn’t actually natural blue.  In some cases, we see that color because the way light reflects off the object only allows for blue wavelength to escape.  In others, a different color pigment like red is mixed with other molecules to create blue.”

 

“What nonsense are you spouting now?”

 

Shana scoffs at Geira’s dismissal.  She then leans closer to Thea and adds, “Don’t listen to that brute.  As a first-rate magician, I’m well studied in the hard sciences too.”

 

After a bit of silence, Thea finds the courage to ask another question that is on her mind.  She swallows, looks at Shana, and says with a soft voice, “Who is… Viren?”

 

“He’s that guy who helped me fight the guards.”

 

Geira slaps her forehead at the sloppy response.  “Prabhu-Viren is the Pramodan Lotus of Bharat.”  Then, at Shana’s lack of a reaction, she groans.  “You don’t even care, do you?”

 

“I’ve already had my fill of pompous titles and arbitrary social status.”
“Arbitrary!?  No, you were carrying him in your arms!”

 

Thea’s jaw drops as the two begin to bicker.  As the details of what happened are revealed before her are so amazing, she doesn’t even notice the stares they are receiving.  She isn’t sure if she should consider her “blood-sister” fortunate or unfortunate.  She only wishes she could pray that nothing bad will come of it.

 

They soon reach the gate.  It, to the surprise of all three of them, is still open.  Geira says, “I was going to try and use my status to get them to let us in through a side door…”  Likewise, they enter the city with little difficulty.  The Vigiles stationed there do stare Shana and Thea down, but make no moves against them.

 

Once beyond the walls, they see many people coming and going.  They rush around carrying planks of wood, crates, ropes, or bundles of cloth.  Despite how they are all working late into the night, not one person isn’t delighted by what they are doing.

 

“The Transvectio Equitum.”  Geira is taken aback for a moment before adding, “It slipped my mind.”

 

Shana turns to her and gives a flat, “The what?”

 

Geira gives a brief explanation as she shows them the way through the city.  “The Transvectio Equitum.  It’s a celebration honoring an ancient battle.  I’ll tell you more about it later.  For now, stay alert and stay close.”

 

Thea’s expression tenses at the warning.  Remembering last time, she takes hold of Shana’s hand with both of her own.

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