Chapter 20: 19. Scorn

As the girl’s shape dissipated. I stood there for a moment, admiring the vestige of the immaterium that used to be home to us all.

I chuckled to myself. It was no loss. The collapse of the immaterium was the only gift the creator had ever truly made.

I closed my eyes for a moment. When I reopened them, I was back to sitting on the rosewood chair in my office. I took a deep breath and relaxed my body, letting my head slowly tilt back. Baptisms were an exhausting season for us gods, but luckily, few were those who professed to me, the goddess of hate.

Staring at my own effigy on the painted ceiling. I thought about how strange it was to expect me to enjoy staring at my own image all day long, but there was no reason to insult my host by pointing this out.

My thoughts shifted to the young kin, Silika. Her predicament was perplexing. Of course her life had been quite tragic so far, I could tell that much when I peeked into her memory.

What was more troubling was the Meiriem’s church involvement in the affair.

There was a time when us gods had laid the law and administered it through our churches, but these days are past on most of the continents. Only Seeir had still not given up her power… And despite not holding power, Steihnner the God of War’s church in the Heillhs Empire still practiced his divine decree to this day…

 

These days, our main focus is on the only thing our divinity still provides: blessings. Blessings were a tool to kins. A tool that could be abused. It allowed them to achieve incredible feats, although most didn’t realise the potential.

I looked at my hand, still clasping the armrest.

Blessings were powerful. They could corrupt mann and turn them into monsters. The church was a necessary evil to keep this unwarranted evil at bay.

Ferals, or witches as they had taken to call them in this age, were real… But they were uncommon, and constantly at the verge of extinction after the Curse of the Purple Veil making their offspring infertile. A cruel, but necessary punishment.

There was no long-term reason to be afraid of a feral, but manns lived in the present. The threat of marauding feral abominations still existed… But Salland was an inner duchy. The kinsmanns of the ‘Orthodox Meiriem Church’ had probably never encountered any, and probably did not know the first thing about dealing with them. Excommunication being probably the worst possible way.

Those stupid stupid children….

I closed my eyes and tried to calm myself.

Thinking our words had any meaning anymore… Those stupid useless dogma we invented. Lip service, a charade! Anyone with half a brain knows that it’s just a way to keep them fro…!

I heard a snapping sound. I opened my eyes, my hand was no more, instead an iron claw replaced it, still clasping the remains of the armrest. I threw it against the wall in a fit of anger.

At that very moment, I heard a knock at the door.

I took a deep breath and composed myself.

“Come in.”

I said, repressing the anger in my voice.

A trap opened at the top of the door and a disembodied helmeted head flew in.

A pureblood Solomonkin.

Not a very rare specimen on this continent where their ability to displace their limbs independently from the rest of their body made them prized messengers, scouts… and spies.

Death had an interesting design for his kins. Not only could their limbs act independently, but they also shared a common digestive system which would redistribute the food equally to the entirety of their kind… An interesting concept for sure, but the implications were too philosophical for my taste. The starving kings of olden days being the primary culprit for my stand on the matter.

“Iron Maiden, his majesty would like to know if you will be joining him for dinner?”

I looked out of the window. The sun was setting, but that meant that it was still only early afternoon in Firsland and most of the western continent.

“You will have to convey my most sincere apologies to your master, I cannot accept his invitation until the sun has set on Firsland.”

The head bowed respectfully, catching a glimpse of the broken armrest.

“Shall I have a new chair brough, Iron Maiden?”

I nodded and the head silently flew away through the same trap door it had arrived from.

I waited for a moment before speaking.

“Eyzo, show yourself.”

A swallow which had been sitting perched on a tree just outside of my window delicately swooped in. As it reached the front of my desk it turned into a man. His skin was blueish white, his hair black as midnight and his eyes golden with crosses going through them. If I had preferred the male form, I would probably have looked similar to this man, but that was not surprising. Not all of us were as ingeniously original as Solomon. Instead we created kins in our image.

He was but one of a dozen of my original kins from untold millennia ago who had followed me all this time, acting as my most trusted servants.

“At your service, Iron Maiden.”

“Sock the false reverence, Eyzo. I’m bored with it.”

I said in an irritated tone. A title of war should only ever be used for exactly that, war. Yet the kins took these titles as such prized possession that they believed we would do the same.

In other words, I am patient with ignorance, but not otherwise.

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“As you wish Lady Scorn. What is it that bothers you?”

I stood up and headed to the large bookshelf on the opposite wall.

“How long has it been since you’ve last been to Firsland?”

Eyzo scratched his chin.

“Seven decades or so. Maybe eight? Is there something that you would like to know?”

I nodded.

“The Everest family. Of Oblon. What do you know of them?”

“Ah, the marquessial family. The family was quite renowned in the capital for his role in defending the south-western coast of Salland against the Flatfoots. Truly, warriors with few equals and true protectors of Order. They wore their heritage with pride.”

So the Everest family used to be followers of Seeir? Interesting.

“What about Meiriem?”

“What about them?”

“Did the family worship the gods of love?”

Eyzo seemed to think for a moment before answering.

“I have never spoken to a member of the family directly, but that would be surprising. The Meiriem church presence in the region was quite ordinary.”

“Not anymore…”

I mumbled to myself.

I recalled the girl’s memory. That day at the Meiriem cathedral. I thredge though her ingrained memory, rewinding it.

Being dragged into the carriage. Thrown on the pavement at the front step. Being hauled through a long corridor. A painful slap from a ringed kin. An impressive Meiriem statue. Heavy wooden door opening. A screeching sound. A gard…

A screeching sound?

“A crow”

I said out loud.

“Mmhh?”

Eyzo responded half-mindedly.

“Which one of you has the habit of taking the appearance of a crow?”

His face lit up.

“Ah yes! That would be Orr! Last I heard she had indeed been drifting about the western region of the continent”

Then she is the one who has the answers I need. I sat back on my desk and started writing a letter hastily.

“Deliver this to Orr, have her come and report to me.”

I said as I handed him a summon letter.

“Shall I have her come here?”

I thought for a second.

“No you will not. I will depart for the old continent tomorrow. Have her meet me at the Moreti Kingdom capital of Mai’Ville.”

“As you wish, Iron Maiden.”

I grit my teeth as he transformed once more and flew away through the window.

Moreti was the midway point between Firsland and the Solom Kingdom, a perfect meeting point, but there was another reason I wanted to go there. For the last two centuries, it had been the primary residence of my counterparts.

The gods of love, Meiriem.

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