The Sting and the Comfort

Perhaps it was from her mind being slightly asleep, but Jiriinii thought it merely strange to wake up in bed with a man. Her mind was dull as she woke, and so the shock never fully had time to register immediately. And so it was that, through bleary eyes, she saw her arm wrapped around a handsome, shirtless man.

Then she gasped and backed away quickly, nearly falling off the bed. Aia’s blood, where was she? Who was this? And where in the world were most of her clothes?

“Jiriinii?” A familiar voice said, one that brought immediate tears to her eyes. “What’s wrong?” The voice was filled with the compassion and kindness that Jiriinii had grown to expect from the Seat of Jod.

“Ventoros?” She whispered, blinking to try and clear her eyes. Yes, yes, it was him! The same strong yet gentle features, the same caring look. It was all there. “Is that you?”

Ventoros laughed, a sound that brought joy to Jiriinii’s heart. “Who else would it be, love?” He stretched out his hand, and she grabbed it tightly. He pulled her towards him and wrapped his arms around her. She tensed, unsure what to think, and Ventoros seemed to sense her discomfort. “What’s wrong?”

Jiriinii tried to speak, but no words came out. Everything was just too confusing. Where was she? How did she get here? And how was Ventoros still alive? Nothing made sense.

And so she did the thing that made the least sense. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.

He didn’t pull away, though it shouldn’t have been a surprise. They had been in the same bed- kissing was probably something they did every day. To Jiriinii, though, it was a new experience. She let herself get lost in his embrace, let her mind flow with her emotions. It was no longer a matter of him and her, it was them. Briefly Jiriinii wondered if this was a normal feeling to others, but it was quickly drowned out by her whirlwind of emotions.

After about a minute or so, Ventoros pulled away and looked at her with a wry smile and a raised eyebrow. “My lady seems rather affectionate this morning.”

“I just…” Jiriinii spluttered, trying to find the words. “I just had a terrible, terrible dream.”

“A nightmare?” Ventoros said, his smile turning into a gentle look of compassion. “What happened?”

“I’m not even sure.” Jiriinii said, thinking back to the horrible, terrible scene in the alley. “Radiran killed you, I think. And then Yrit saved Radiran instead of you.”

Ventoros looked at her for a second, and then, unexpectedly, he began to laugh. It was a glorious sound that dispelled any fear in her heart, and she began to laugh too. It was a release of everything she had kept bottled up since his death, and she let it all out now, only in laughter instead of lamentation.

“Radiran killing me?” Ventoros laughed, wiping tears from his eyes. “You realize that’s one of the most unrealistic things I’ve ever heard? And Yrit saving Radiran instead?” He laughed again, lying back on the pillows. “I may die of laughter right now.”

“I know.” Jiriinii laughed too, allowing herself to believe it. “It all seems so silly now.” She leaned over and kissed him again, losing herself once more. After a moment, though, Ventoros pulled away and sighed.

“Don’t do this to me now, Jiriinii.” He said, somewhat regretfully.  He pulled off the covers, revealing quite a lot more than Jiriinii was comfortable seeing. She averted her eyes, and was glad that Ventoros didn’t notice. “You know how much I have to do today.”

Jiriinii looked back at him, and was glad to see him putting on his clothes. “How much?” Her voice caught in her throat as she saw a flash of gold on the fourth finger on his left hand, and realized there was the feel of metal on the same finger of her own. “How much, dear husband?”

Ventoros laughed. “Dear husband, eh? I haven’t heard that one before.” He shook his head. “Today’s Kiinrin’s coronation, remember? The first time a Jod will ever be the leader of a human kingdom?” He shook his head and chuckled. “I knew you thought I was perfect, but never to the point that you forgot about your own brother.”

Jiriinii was stunned, but she quickly shook it off. She needed to act as though she was part of this strange, wonderful world. No point in confusing anyone in it.

“Right.” She said, and faked a yawn. “I’m still waking up, I guess.”

“Well,” Ventoros chuckled. “Maybe this will awaken you.” From a box beside the bed he produced the most brilliant dress Jiriinii had ever seen. Jiriinii gasped and put a hand over her heart. It was gorgeous. White satin, with  capped sleeves and a neckline just low enough to keep Ventoros’s attention on her. The hemline was ruffled, and she could just imagine herself spinning in it for hours at a time, watching the fabric dance.

“Where did you get that?” She squealed, jumping out of the bed with no thought to modesty. Luckily, Ventoros didn’t seem to care. “It’s beautiful!”

“Being the Seat of Jod has its privileges.” Ventoros laughed, laying it in her waiting arms. “I’ll send your maid in to help you put it on.” He kissed her quickly on the cheek before pulling a shirt over his head. “Meet you for a quick breakfast before we head to the palace? In half an hour or so?”

Jiriinii nodded. “Of course.”

Ventoros grinned before walking over to the door and ringing a small silver bell. “What’s the name of your maid, again? I can never remember.”

Jiriinii didn’t know, but she didn’t want him to know that. So she winked and said, “If you can’t remember, then there’s no point in me telling you.”

Ventoros laughed and opened the door. “There is some truth in that.” He walked out, closing the door gently behind him. Jiriinii stood in her underwear in the middle of the room, absentmindedly running her hands over the dress. Aia’s blood, she didn’t know where she was, but she loved it. She could finally relax.

All thoughts of relaxation were dashed when Iniriija walked into the room.

“Is there anything you need, my lady?” She said, walking toward Jiriinii. She began taking the covers off of the bed. “Do you need help with that?” She nodded at the dress.

“You have some gall.” Jiriinii growled. “Why are you here?”

Iniriija put on an innocent face. “My lady? What do you mean?”

“Don’t play games with me, Iniriija.” Jiriinii snapped, slapping the covers out of her hands. “What is this? Where am I?”

“You are in your mansion, my lady, in Matrikai.” Iniriija put on a look of compassion. “Is my lady feeling alright?

“Enough with the ‘my lady’!” Jiriinii shouted, nearly throwing the dress at her. “Why are you here?”

Iniriija’s eyes hardened, and she advanced closer to Jiriinii. “That is for me to know, little girl, and for you to find out.” She angrily snatched the dress out of Jiriinii’s hands. “Why must you always seek the things you cannot have?”

“Because I resent having to stumble in the dark!” Jiriinii hissed. “You and all the others seem to love keeping us uninformed, but I will have none of it.” She sat down on the bed and crossed her arms over her chest. “You will tell me what I wish to know, or I will sit here until the world ends.”

Iniriija ground her teeth, but, after a moment, she nodded. “Fine. But we will speak of this as you dress.” Jiriinii nodded and stood, putting her arms up for Iniriija to slip the dress over her head.

“Alright.” Iniriija said. “What do you want to know?”

“Where are we?” Jiriinii said, looking around. “I never owned a mansion in Matrikai. Ventoros is dead. How is any of this possible?”

Iniriija walked in front of her and gave her a look. “Where do you think you are, my lady? You are intelligent enough to guess that on your own.”

Jiriinii’s eyes narrowed. “This looks nothing like the Void, Iniriija.”

Iniriija rolled her eyes and went back around Jiriinii, pressing the cloth smooth with her hands. “You think that the Void is something dark and empty because of what you have seen on the outside?” Jiriinii could almost feel her shaking her head. “If you have the power, you can manipulate the Void to do whatever you wish.” She came back to the front and smiled starkly at Jiriinii. “And I have the power.”

“Then why create this?” Jiriinii said, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. “Why torture me with shadows of what could have been?”

“Because of what my master told you.” Iniriija shrugged. “This is what I was appointed to create for you. Obviously he believes that you will learn something from this.”

“Who is your master?” Jiriinii asked.

Iniriija smiled, warmly this time. “You know that already, my lady.” She clapped her hands and stepped away. “Now let me see how this fits.”

Jiriinii took a step and immediately felt warm all over. The dress, and her by extension, were stunning. The satin whispered and wove as she walked, and when she spun, the ruffles grew hypnotic. Aia’s blood, she had to be careful. A woman could get lost in dresses such as these.

“Now.” Iniriija smiled innocently. “Didn’t my lady have somewhere to be?”

* * *

As far as coronation parades went, Jiriinii thought that it was actually quite dull. In her mind she had imagined thousands of silver trumpets creating a fanfare that could be heard throughout all of Glausiania. Exotic dancers and strange acrobats would leap and topple in front as the Prince, riding some sort of strange animal, brought up the rear.

No such luck.

Kiinrin did look impressive, though. Dressed in the crimson armor of the Var he had trained with, he strode stoically through the streets with his blood red cape flowing in the breeze. The silver crown of the Crown Prince sat upon his brow for the last time as he made his way to the palace, where old King Gestarin sat wheezing in his wheeled chair.

Jiriinii could scarcely believe how old her father had become. There had been days that, as a child, she had thought him nearly immortal. Certainly he had more white hairs than the youth on his council, and certainly he was much slower than them in most battles. But a little girl will always look up to her father as some sort of god, and Jiriinii was no exception. She had thought her father had many, many years ahead of him.

It was not so. She guessed that the world she was in was a world twenty years past what she remembered. Her father’s rugged salt and pepper hair had been bleached completely white, and his strong fingers that had once gripped Falconeyes in battle now could scarcely hold a teacup. A throng of wrinkles and lines appeared on his now tired and worn face, and his voice, the marvelous voice of a king, now sounded little more than a rasp.

She leaned steeply on the arm of her husband, Ventoros, as they stood on the steps of the palace. Though he was known as Valanal, Seat of Jod, to everyone else, he would always be her Ventoros. Nothing could change that.

Careful, young one. Jiriinii thought grimly to herself. None of this is real. Iniriija herself said so.  But how could Jiriinii tell herself that when the solid, warm, handsome form of Ventoros stood right next to her?

“Are you alright, my sweet?” Ventoros said, leaning over and smoothing her hair. “Is the gown quite to your liking?”

Jiriinii smiled and looked up at him. “More than you can imagine.” She kissed him quickly, savoring the gesture. After a moment, they parted, and Jiriinii sighed. “I am merely thoughtful about the changes of life and how quickly they come.”

“What do you mean?” Ventoros said quizzically, cocking his head to one side.

“Well,” Jiriinii began, looking back at her father as he smiles on his chair. “My father for instance. It seemed as though, just yesterday, he was the strapping king that I had always known.” She pointed at Kiinrin as he neared the steps. “And my brother was scarcely more knowledgeable than a child.”

Ventoros laughed and clasped his hand tightly around hers. “Such is always the case with time, love. It passes no matter whether we wish it to or not. Sometimes,” He whispered, leaning to the side and brushing his lips over her ear. “We simply have to enjoy what we have before time runs out.”

Jiriinii smirked and looked at him. “You charmer.”

Ventoros laughed. “I am what I am.” He nodded toward the steps. “But we should be silent now. The ceremony will begin in a moment.”

Jiriinii nodded and sighed as a few trumpets, nowhere near the thousands she had imagined, sounded a note that was both impressive and boring.

“Hear ye, hear ye!” The chief Harvester proclaimed, sweeping his arms in a wide motion. “We are gathered here today to celebrate the rule and reign of one of our most beloved Kings.” He nodded at Gestarin, who smiled and waved at the small crowd of people gathered at the base of the steps. The Harvester bowed slightly and turned back to the people. “But, in addition, we are here to commence the rule of Kiinrin Galarin, son of Gestarin Galarin, the hero of Yijiiru!” An enormous roar sounded from the assembled crowd, almost toppling Jiriinii over backward. Aia’s blood, how many people were there? It sounded like all of Oaiao had gathered to watch.

“I thank you, Lord Hirlor.” Kiinrin said with a bow, taking the Harvester’s place on the steps. “And I hope that I am able to be half the king Gestarin was.” He looked back at his father with a soft smile. “For truly there was none better.”

“Here here!” A cry rose up from the crowd, and the others echoed it until the sound had almost reached the Void.

Kiinrin held up his hands, and silence ensued. “With a humble heart and willing hand, my people, I accept the throne of Glausiania.” He bowed deeply and turned toward his father. “Will you grant me your crown, father, so that its enormous weight may no longer rest upon your weary shoulders?”

Gestarin nodded slowly, tears forming in his eyes. Resting his hand on the armrest of his chair, he stood slowly and shakily.

“Though I have borne it well,” He rasped, and the crowd held their breath to be able to hear his words. He took his crown from his head and began playing with it slightly. “This has indeed been a burden.” He smiled wryly at Kiinrin. “I will be glad to be rid of it.” With a quick motion that no one expected from the weak man, he flung the crown at Kiinrin, who barely caught it inches from his face. “Though you’ll need to react quicker to affairs of state than you did in catching that.”

The crowd laughed riotously as Kiinrin blushed and smiled awkwardly. “I will certainly try, father.” He turned toward the Harvester and tossed it to him. “Lord Hirlor, if you would be so kind…”

The Harvester nodded and cleared his throat before gesturing for Kiinrin to kneel. The Prince did so, and only Jiriinii could tell how much he was shaking from excitement and nervousness. No matter what, some things about Kiinrin would never change.

“By the power of Aia and of the rite of blood,” Hirlor boomed, holding the crown aloft above Kiinrin’s head. “I crown you Kiinrin Galarin, King of Glausiania!”

Jiriinii smiled and roared along with the crowd as Kiinrin stood triumphantly. Tears began to stream down her face as she realized just how much her brother had grown.

Something glinted in her eye, and she blinked. What was that? Something had flashed in her field of vision as she looked at the buildings across from the palace steps.

“Did you see that?” Jiriinii said to Ventoros, leaning over as they both clapped.

“Hmm?”

“Did you see that?” She repeated, pointing at the Accountants Guild. There, in the highest window. Something was reflecting the light into her eye. “Right there, in that window.”

Ventoros squinted at the window and shook his head. “I don’t see-” Something caught his eye, and he looked back at the window. He paled, and his head jerked quickly toward Kiinrin. “The King.” With a thrust of his great wings, he leaped into the air and dove in front of the King at the same time that a monstrous twanging noise echoed across the plaza. Something long, dark, and moving very, very fast rushed in and out of Jiriinii’s vision. From the direction of her husband and brother, she heard a grunt of intense pain.

No. Her thoughts felt like ice. Not again. She looked back at the window, but whatever had been glinting had vanished completely.

“The Seat of Jod!” Someone, probably a nobleman, cried. “Someone get a doctor!”

“What happened?” A different voice called.

“He was shot by an arrow!” Another yelled. A collective gasp followed this statement.

Jiriinii ignored them all. She rushed forward on her own wings and landed down next to her shaking brother. Kiinrin himself knelt on the ground with Ventoros cradled in his arm, a gaping wound bleeding milky blood over the stone ground. Jiriinii knelt down next to them, grasping Ventoros’s hand tighter than ever before, and cried.

Her tears seemed to stir something within him. His eyes fluttered, and Jiriinii felt pressure from his own hand. He looked up weakly and smiled.

“No matter how I much I suffer to keep you from pain, my sweet,” He whispered, the words tumbling off of his lips. “You always seem to find it anyway.” He sighed, and tears sprang to his own eyes. “Remember me.”

“Always.” Jiriinii sobbed, and she felt his hand slacken within hers. The light in the Seat of Jod’s eyes dimmed forever. Again.

As his hand fell from Jiriinii’s, the whole world stopped. Jiriinii didn’t notice.

She stood angrily, a whirling rage growing from her toes to warm her cold heart. She spread her wings, ready to draw her Aetherblade and rend the world from top to bottom. Vengeful oaths sprang from her lips, at Aia, Iniriija, the Flens. Anyone who had ever hurt her, she swore to obliterate them.

At that horrible moment, a small voice whispered in her ear. A calm, soothing voice that she knew from before. A memory of a dark cave and a glowing white pool rose to her mind.

“I am sorry, child.” It whispered next to her. “More sorry than you can ever know.”

“Sorry.” Jiriinii growled, refusing to turn around. Her hand itched to draw her Bloodblade. “What good are apologies to me?” Her breath seethed between her clenched teeth. “What good is anything to me? He has died again, and both times I stood back and watched it happen.”

“Look at me, child.” The voice said, but Jiriinii clenched her fists. She would not give this anger away- she couldn’t. To not avenge him? To let Ventoros die and do nothing? No. The insult to his memory would be too much to bear.

But as she held on to her anger and her rage, she began to realize that her feelings were neither. Her tears of anger quickly morphed into tears of sorrow as she realized that causing harm and havoc would be the insult to Ventoros’s memory, the kind man who did no wrong. Who died to protect the ones he loved.

With an extreme cry of anguish, Jiriinii whirled around and flew straight into Aia’s arms.

The kindly old man held her for a long time as she wailed, releasing every single pent up emotion that had sat in her heart since Ventoros had taken her to the pool of Aether. Every repressed desire, every longing gaze, every angry thought. Every single one fell out of her moist eyes as she cried. Ventoros’s words of seizing the day and loving what one has kept echoing in her head, and she wept tears of regret for the moments they would never get back.

After a long moment, Aia sighed. “Look at me, child. There is something you must see.” Jiriinii did so slowly, wiping her eyes with her arm. She chuckled bitterly at how much of a little girl she still was. As she looked into the eyes of her god, her stomach clenched. This man may have had the voice of Aia, but his body was of another.

Ventoros’s kindly face looked back at her, his normally vibrant face a deep grey.

“My son was too great for this world.” Aia said from Ventoros’s lips. “Far too kind, too loving to exist in a world of such horrors.” He reached forward to stroke Jiriinii’s face, and she grasped his hand as she would a rope in the darkness. “It pleases me that he had you to carry him past it.”

“I…” Jiriinii stuttered. “But I never… I never returned his affection…”

Aia smiled, but it was a smile of shared sorrow. “But, through this, you have learned what any leader and any god should know.” Aia sighed, and tears fell from his eyes. “That there is never enough time. Never enough time to fix what you wish, to do what you desire. Even for a god, the years pass like fireflies in the night. And so, it is how you spend the fleeting time you are given that truly matters.” He looked down at his hands. “Ventoros may be gone, but you will remember him enough to honor his memory. And you will honor it by doing as he wished: to enjoy the time you have been given with the people you are with. Enjoy life, revel, but do not forget who is most important.” He smiled wryly. “It is wrong for one to be alone, child. That was my mistake. I sought new horizons as a seeker, and left the ones who cared about me most. See that you do not  likewise waste your time in solitude.” As Jiriinii watched, he began to glow with a soft white light that obscured his features. His entire body bleached to a pure white, until all she could see were his blue eyes. “Your part has been fulfilled, Seat of Jod, and it is time for this all to end.” He held up a hand to forestall any outburst from Jiriinii. “Rest. You will wake soon to a new beginning.” He smiled. “Enjoy it.”

The world exploded in a storm of white light.