Seventy-four

Vezar sat where his mother pointed and his father adjusted himself on his golden pile of memory to get a better look at him, ceasing his attempts to find a human form he felt comfortable in. 

“Perhaps he will keep his word.” Vezjahehdhethrah studied him with something that looked like concern. “Why do you look so broken, little one. Syreilla will remain with us and my mother will aid you if my brother fails to.”

“Even if she returns to me, she is a goddess and I am… I was once a King but all that I have now is Syreilla, if…” 

“You no longer rule her.” The dragon blinked. “You fear she will rule you?”

“I fear she will see me as unworthy and abandon me.”

His mother made a soft sound of pity and his face flushed.

“You are not unworthy of her.” Hevtos almost sounded amused as he entered the chamber. “She is mine and I have looked into her as I have looked into you. The only difference she sees in mens’ rank is distinguished by kindness and reliability. Your threads must be reattached, and you must see your own worthiness to ease your pain. If you are reliable and good to her as you have always been she will return to you.”

Vezar bowed his head, his treasure was golden perfection and despite her reassurances he had never seen himself as beautiful. If she was a goddess and he a mere servant… 

“My sons will become gods of peaceful rest and reward, for those who have lived well, but you, son of my son, as King you were known for your punishments.” 

Lifting his head, Vezar’s skin prickled, “Yes, Divinity. I had wished to rule fairly and justly, but when I used harsh punishments as deterrents for crimes-”

Hevtos smiled faintly holding up his hand, “My Golden Rook is the goddess of righteous vengeance and a protector of gentle souls, for her husband to be a god of purification and punishment… I think it would be fitting if you could bear such a role.”

He lurched to his feet feeling hope and eagerness wash over him for the first time since Syreilla had severed their ties. “Yes! Divinity-”

“You will call me Grandfather, as a god it would be strange for you to defer to me as if you were a human priest.” Hevtos’ smile warmed.

“Grandfather.” Vezar straightened and felt the same pride wash over him as he had when he’d been crowned King. “I will not disappoint you.”

“I sit in judgement of men, but she will be granted the right to intervene on behalf of those I send to you, for those who ask her to, the two of you may send them to their earned fates. Her chamber will be joined to yours, that you may rule them together.”

“Will he be given a stone?” Vezjahehdhethrah inquired curiously, “Uncle had no desire to see mine restored.”

“He will be, when he is ready.” Hevtos turned his head as if listening to something and smiled, “Come, Vezar. Syreilla is ready to listen.”

A door was opened into Syreilla’s bower and a large black bird took flight, raising the alarm, as he looked around in surprise at the changes she’d made. The tree roots… 

“She is on the roof.” Hevtos guided him out, past a row of silent and accusingly staring birds in the garden, to the peculiar rootlike stair that led up to the trees offering shade and a circle of benches made of entwined saplings.

Odos sat with a doting smile and Cyran rose to bow in greeting to Hevtos.

“Imos’ son is as respectful as my own grandchild.” 

“I’ll try to break him of those bad habits.” Odos laughed as the former priest gave him an exasperated look.

“Where is…?” Vezar caught the way Odos glanced up and turned his gaze into the crowns of the trees. 

Syreilla was perched in a tree fork studying him silently as she stroked the sizable raven perched on her wrist.

“Every god creates an audience chamber that suits their personality.” Odos smiled warmly up at her, “My little rook’s throne is a forked tree and her chamber is open and welcoming.”

Sending the bird flying away and folding her arms, she shifted in the tree and put her back against a side of the fork, “And there’s a very long drop off the side too, if you didn't notice.”

“I noticed,” Odos grinned, “So that you can practice flying?”

She tried to hold her sour face but laughed despite herself and let it soften. “I’m going to find a pair of wings to steal, you’ll see.

“Uncle, I was going to make a table and help,” she paused slightly, “Father teach Cyran how to play Massacre. I’m going to make the dice too.”

“I will give you a table for it below on the balcony so that you may play with your uncles.” Hevtos gestured for Odos and Cyran to come with him, “The dice will be mine to give my young nephew a chance.”

“He doesn’t load the dice, Uncle,” Syreilla grinned impishly, “He messes with the luck. I was going to load the dice to give my cousin a chance.”

Odos broke into laughter and rose from his seat, “I’ll play fairly enough at first so that he can learn the game, I only rig the game when there’s a wager.”

“I’ve never seen you play without making some kind of wager, Father.” Her smile was almost doting and Odos glowed. “Remind me to tell you about Orefinder getting dragged away by his collar when he tried to make a wager with me.”

“I will.” 

He and Cyran disappeared down the root stair with Hevtos and Vezar stood alone in front of her.

“Syreilla-”

“Why? Why were you there?”

“In my anguish I tore the robe you stole for me, I went to a market I knew to find fine cloth and she caught me there. She… I enjoyed being treated as if I were a King again. Beautiful elvish women stripped me of my coarse clothes and pressed the finest silks and fabrics to my skin to make new robes for me and then she took me to her bower and I found myself in her bed.

“She is a goddess of desire and I was stirred but I refused her in the elvish tongue, gently but firmly. The goddess had striven to make her face like yours, if you had not been born half human, but as lovely as she was her smile was not yours. You are the one I ache for, my treasure.

“I will perform any penance, I will take whatever punishment you wish to give me for my foolishness, but I would have you know I did not, I would not, allow another to-” He stopped as she held up her hand and then covered her face. 

Her shoulders hunched and she curled in a sitting ball on her perch. He couldn’t bear the sight. Crossing the circle, he started to climb up to her.

Syreilla rubbed roughly at her eyes and made an odd sound before shooing him down. Vezar withdrew his claws from the tree and stepped back. To his surprise and relief she dropped down and ran her hands over the tree bark. 

“Don’t do that! My poor tree!”

“You looked anguished, my treasure, I could not bear it.” 

Exhaling, she folded her arms and leaned against the tree. “I don’t know what to do Vezar. You hurt me.”

“To be without you is unbearable agony, Syreilla. Whether our threads are severed or not, I love you and I need you.” He stepped forward with his hands open, opening his threads and offering them. “You never asked me to open myself to you, to allow you to see into my threads as you allowed me. Foolishly, I never thought to offer it. I would have you know that I am yours, I am not whole without you.”

The lunge she made, leaping onto him to peer into his eyes, took him by surprise and he barely kept his feet, stumbling back and then surging forward as he felt her peering into his threads and offering her own. Stars exploded in his vision and he panted, pressing her against her forked tree throne. The severed threads wound themselves back together and he groaned as the threads of her desire attached to him.

“My treasure, my sweet Syreilla.”

She laughed quietly and started to tug at his robe, “Shhh, they’re still on my balcony playing dice.”

“Come to my chamber, I would have it joined to yours and you may remake it in any form you wish.” 

Vezar wasn’t certain he could wait to get to his chamber when she began kissing his throat and insistently opening his robe, her hands moving over his skin. 

“We’d need a door up here, my dragon, I-” she pulled away and started to laugh.

A vine twined arch had formed at the edge of her roof and it held a black and gold door with a carving of a dragon.

“Your audience chamber should be bound to mine, my treasure, I have yet to make…” He groaned again as she pulled him closer, caressing the threads of desire with a thought and pushing his robe down over his shoulders.

She broke into laughter, wrapping herself around him as he pressed his claws into her back and began biting her neck playfully.

“Bedroom first, my dragon. We’ll be whole before we’ll do anything else.”