“...am I a r-rock?” Amaranthe managed to stutter out. Her hair was being held and her ears were twitching at the tactile sensation of Tamara’s wrist as it inadvertently touched them. The twitching increased and there wasn’t anything she could do to stop it. Tamara finally lowered her grip slightly so that she wasn’t touching them at all. It helped, some.

“Oh, sweetie, no.” Tamara put a hand on her back and a settling sensation went past Amaranthe’s spine and into her abdomen. The good news was that Amaranthe felt better. The bad news was that Tamra was still touching her and now that she wasn’t puking, she was turning Amaranthe to face her.

Tamara’s eyes were almost too intense to look at directly and Amaranthe felt her eyes immediately looking down and to the left. She would look anywhere else. “T-then what do you want?”

Tamara sighed, seeming reluctant to release the hair in her grip. She let it spill out gradually, watching it as it slipped from her grasp. She took a step back as if acknowledging she was the problem Amaranthe was having trouble with. “I want you to think carefully, and ask me for something. Something in the next minute. This way I’ll be doing you a favor. It’s important that we establish that. I’ll be doing you a favor in return for listening to me talk about my chosen. Do you understand?”

“Y-yes,” Amaranthe did understand that she needed to ask for something. She was at a complete loss as to what to ask for. She prided herself on being bright. She may not be the smartest creature in any verse, on any world, and often -- considering the company she kept -- was not even the smartest creature in the room. She wasn’t dumb, however, and the way this was happening made her think there was a very specific thing that Tamara wanted her to ask for.

Think. Think. Gonna die. Think. Gonna get killed at this rate. Think. THINK. THINKING ANYMORE IS GOING TO GET YOU KILLED JUST SAY SOMETHI--

“You are not the rock,” Tamara said softly, breaking Amaranthe’s train of thought. Her eyes stopped flickering with terror and she calmed down, realizing that Tamara was going to say something else. Tamara gifted her with another few words that were barely a whisper, “I’m the rock. Throw me at something.”

Amaranthe blinked, mind going completely blank. Slowly an idea formed in her head. Why the wish had to be made immediately before Tamara left this place. A one-time thing that seemed more like a threat than a gift. The story that had been told.

She didn’t know why Tamara would want it, but she thought she understood what Tamara might want. So, the idea started to solidify. An absolutely terrible idea.

Tamara stepped back and looked more pleased by the second. Her lips curled upward and her eyes seemed to absolutely burn with intensity. The aura started to force back the blurriness of their surroundings and once again Amaranthe could hear the sounds of people dying from down below. “Don’t be shy, your time is almost up.”

↢↦

Harper was tall. It was the first thing that stood out to anyone. Well above average for most humanoid races at two and a half meters. Certainly tall since most races tend to cater toward height in the males of the species and not the females. Harper had black braids that ran down one side of her head, the other side cleanly shaved in a similar style to Tamara’s. A simple and sleeveless black blouse contained her ample bust and cut-off shortly underneath displaying the rather impressive musculature just above her simple black pants and serviceable boots. The tips of the boots near the front ended in black metal. As if there weren't enough of the woman with half-giant blood in her veins, almost every inch of her body was inscribed with some rather lovely tattoos depicting various battles she’d been through in her life.

Things had not been going well. She was standing at a table in her inner sanctum going over the war table. There were two chosen with her that owed her favors and they would stand with her until they were forced to stand aside. The forces arrayed against them were greater. The damned chosen, Lucian, had greater resources and was pushing toward them. In a one-on-one fight, Harper wasn’t certain between her and him who would win. She had just reached triple black star status herself, a unit of measurement that was vague and almost useless on its own. That’s why there was so much caution, so much uncertainty, and so much care that went into any thought of conflict with other chosen.

Chosen weren’t gods. They couldn’t wander around so freely and make enemies of whoever they pleased. They weren’t gods but they were powerful and arrogant, and in many cases -- rightly so. Still, there were consequences to all actions for everyone that wasn’t a god. If you killed a chosen, you had better be prepared to have your own patron back you or that chosen’s god may just decide to squish you for the impertinence. Heath was a great patron in a lot of ways. It was just, Harper couldn’t keep her mouth shut. If Harper could live through this Heath would protect her from the other god’s ire. Chosen battle happened all the time. It was fine, and expected, as long as you had a big stick behind your back. So, when Lucian had challenged her after she’d opened her big mouth and she’d had no choice to accept? It wasn’t really anyone’s fault other than hers.

Well, hers and Lucian’s. Lucian was such a shit-head.

Harper grinned at the random thought. Her white teeth a sharp contrast against her dark caramel skin. She was about to share her thought and the joke of it all to one of the other’s around the table but she realized that she wasn’t… there anymore.

Harper was looking directly at Lucian who was casually seated at a table in a large canopied tent.

Harper was standing in the enemy camp. She froze, not even bothering to straighten up with the feeling of uncertainty flaring up inside her. This was some sort of mental attack? Trick? Teleportation?

It didn’t make her feel any better at all that Lucian looked just as surprised. A wine goblet was halfway to his lips. The wine goblet slowly descended until it was placed on the table as if it were natural and he’d always planned to give up on his sip halfway. His hand went to the hammer that was laid on the table. It was a terrible thing. Easily again his size like some sort of comedic tool used for a children’s story. The strength it required to pick it up with one hand like it weighed nothing was anything but amusing to Harper. She willed her dimensional space to produce her own weapon, a deadly halberd with a cobalt blue axeblade on one end and a sharpened haft.

There was no reason to speak. No one knew what was going on but there would be blood. Lucian would try to kill her because she wouldn’t run. She wouldn’t run because her only chance was to kill him. She’d never make it out of his camp alive.

“Hello.”

A blonde woman sat idly on the edge of the table. She had been so still and natural in the scene and they had been so focused on the rising auras that they were producing that they, both Lucian and Harper, startled badly.

Tamara bit into an apple, crunching loudly. Amaranthe was on her knees in front of her, ears twitching despondently. Her face was looking down and she was pale like she’d just been severely ill. Her hands held her stomach and there was a grimace on her face.

Harper already didn’t know what was going on but she did know a lot about Amaranthe. Amaranthe was beautiful, and if things had been going differently Harper might have made a pass at her. Probably fruitless, since Amaranthe like so many others, was chasing that straw hat that Heath wore. Still, if it had been her last night alive Amaranthe was easily the best thing that came to her mind.

Now though, the behavior of Amaranthe was unnatural. She made no move to get to her feet and acted like she would rather be anywhere else. Amaranthe was a strong rock in Harper’s mind. Something that could stand against whatever nature threw at it and remain unmoved.

The Amaranthe in this room looked up guiltily, seeming to mouth something at Harper.

Harper’s brown eyes widened in disbelief.

I’m sorry.

...and Amaranthe really, really was. Amaranthe had a rock and she had to throw it. So, she threw it at Lucian. Who knows how many of them would get out of this alive.

“Hello?” Tamara once again broke the silence, making uncomfortable to listen to crunching noises as she messily at the apple and spoke in between bites.

↢↦

Lucian saw the uncertainty on Harper’s face and decided, wisely as it turns out, to not continue reaching for his weapon on the table. Looking around slowly revealed that on the other side of the table in front of the woman eating the apple there was a fox girl on the floor. He wasn’t sure what she was doing down there, to be honest? He thought it might be Amaranthe but the behavior of the woman seemed off-beat for that particular member of Heath’s chosen.

Lucian turned his head slightly, brushing his shoulder-length dark hair past his shoulder with a casual and practiced motion. His pale and muscled upper-body was on display because he had no need for a shirt. Incubus were, by nature, well comfortable in their own skin and little else. His green eyes traveled to the woman on the table. He could only see her side profile but she was easily in the top ten most beautiful women he had ever seen. An immediate and intense urge to possess her flared up inside his body, almost exasperating him. This wasn’t the time to become sexually aroused.

“Ladies…” Lucian called in greeting, deciding that for the moment he would try and converse.

Especially since he couldn’t see where the hell the hall full of people he had just been eating with went.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Lucian was proud of the tone of his voice. It was enough to make most women turn their heads. He liked to think it was more than the incubus in his blood.

“Yes, hello, I thought I was talking to myself.”

The amazing blond turned and almost had him spellbound when he saw her eyes. She was definitely a powerful chosen. Easily. There was the slightest concern she was a god in Lucian’s mind, but it was only a slight concern.

There were rules. A god could kill another god’s chosen, but it was very rare. He decided a bit of flattery was in order in either case.

“You are easily the most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on. I would give up my life to press my lips upon the same apple those perfect lips touched.” Lucian smiled broadly. “If I had known apples were a fruit capable of attracting such beauty, I would allow no other fruit in my hall. Is there something I can do for you? Some reason that has brought all here in such a troubling time? Amaranthe, lovely, is that you down there? Would you… like some wine to settle you?” He frowned, opening his mouth again before Amaranthe could reply. Before anyone could reply. “I’ll make you all a deal. While you’re here, you are all safe. Let this just be a talk for now, yes?”

“Deal,” Tamara said easily. “You certainly talk a lot. To expedite this, let’s start. I’m here to mediate a resolution to this conflict, so I’ll need you, Lucian was it? I’ll need you to state your reason for the conflict, then I will hear Harper’s, then I’ll judge you. Okay?”

“Judge me?” Lucian was surprised.

“Yes.”

“What will you do when you judge me?” Lucian was honestly curious. He was looking slightly to the left at Harper, knowing full well that this conflict was a petty one from both their points of view. Giving verbal agreement to someone that you allowed their judgment was a very dangerous decision.

“I’ll resolve the conflict?” Tamara tilted her head, eyes narrowing slightly in innocent confusion. “If I have to repeat myself again it will affect the rapidity of the judgment. My name is Tamara and this will be over shortly. I have things to do and the entropy of the universe isn’t getting any faster or slower.”

Lucian blinked slowly at her and then held his hands open in an inviting manner, as if he, for one, welcomed his new blonde overlord.

“Very well! I’d been drinking with several of my fellow chosen in a, I’m not sure what? A hall of some sort where we were waiting for the gods in attendance to conclude a meeting in an adjoining space and the drink had gotten away from me. As is my nature, I sought companionship for the night. Harper is quite beautiful, and large, and from what I’d heard, available. So, I solicited her company for the night and was soundly rejected. I thought I was quite upfront about it. The rejection was unfortunate but that would have been the end of it. She questioned my lineage and inquired about the length of my mother’s legs.”

“Her legs?” Tamara raised an eyebrow, seemingly unconcerned with any accuracy in his story and not inquiring about the details.

“Yes, she wondered what the distance was when they were spread, and said that it must be quite the impressive distance with all the effort she put into spreading them.” Lucian put his lips together in a thin smile. “I love my mother, and have killed men and women for less. She is a chosen, however, and one can’t simply murder chosen on the spot. So I sent her a challenge with my intent and she chose the battlefield and conditions. I would have preferred to end this one-on-one but…” He spread his arms in a ‘what-can-you-do’ motion and went silent.

The whole time he talked he rubbed the ring on his index finger with his thumb.

“Enough,” Tamara turned to Harper, startling the woman. “You, you talk too. If you don’t finish before Heath and Damascus get here I’ll kill you.”

“H-heath and--” Harper began to stumble over her words but a slow aura started to spread at floor level from the room. She had been about to deny the fact that she had just called for Heath. She was sort of wondering why Heath wasn’t already here, considering the condition that Amaranthe was in. Now she understood.

Tamara was a goddess and she had known all along that Heath and Damascus would be called because of the abnormality of the situation. It was all good and well if Harper and Lucian fought one another to the death at their own pace. This, however, was a situation that Harper was happy to use as an excuse to call her god and maybe get out of this mess. The blank and deadly stare on Tamara’s face saw through her. Saw through everything. A quick glance revealed that Amaranthe was starting to recover from whatever ordeal she had been under. A shaky hand held the corner of the table as she got to her feet. She still wouldn’t look at Harper, but at least now Harper understood. Amaranthe was also in this plot.

Sometimes, Harper really fucking hated gods. It was a good thing Amaranthe was cute.

“That’s all correct. He is, however, not as smooth as he thinks. I find him repulsive, sickly, psychotic, and a bunch of other things I’m fine calling him when I’m not pressed for time.” Harper shrugged, earning a half-bow from Lucian. “I did say that about his mother, and I am, very, very sorry.”

Lucian looked up with interest.

“Sorry that I didn’t have more time to think about all the bad things I could call your mother, you sick, twisted, murdering, raping, tiny-dicked fuck.” Harper smiled and held up her pinky finger. Despite the fact that it was still huge, it got the point across. “It’s bad enough that you can get play just by smelling good, but forcing people? Get screwed.”

“See?” Lucian raised his hand. “Such slander.”

“Slander is unfounded,” Tamara shrugged. “It’s good that your god is coming. I’ve just decided to give you the death penalty and we’ll have to talk about it.”

“Excuse me?” Lucian raised his eyebrows.

“I told you.” Tamara blinked and turned, placing the apple on the table. “...not to make me repeat myself.”

Lucian blinked and jerked back, realizing that there were four fingers stretched out within an inch of his right eye. He fell over the chair behind him and hit the floor, pulling part of the table cloth and scattering several dishes on the floor. Fruit rolled around on the ground but that was the least of concerns as he scrambled back.

The shudder of fear that went through his body touched his soul, the brief moment had been enough for him to confirm that he was still alive and it was only because Damascus had shown up at that very moment and held Tamara’s wrist.

He had blinked and Tamara had been that close to piercing straight through his skull with her bare hands.

Lucian gaped, propping himself up on his elbows.

Damascus rasped a breathy sigh in a deep exasperated way as he released Tamara’s wrist. She let the hand fall to her side, giving Lucian a long look before turning her attention to the new addition to the room. “Hello, Tamara.”

“Hello, Damascus.”

“You tried to kill him moments after you said you’d wait for me? The air is still warm with the exhalation of that statement.” Damascus rolled his eyes and his voice sounded out dryly.

“You were here already, why wait?” Tamara blinked her big eyes innocently with a casual smile.

“You know her?” Lucian asked.

“Everybody knows this witch,” Damascus said tiredly.

Amaranthe finally managed to stumble over to Harper, who caught her around the waist and held her up. Amaranthe smiled at her for a moment and whispered, “I’m here to rescue you.”

“Why do I kinda think you mean that other thing?” Harper made a face.

“Because she means that other thing, but, she’s not wrong.” Heath stepped past them both from behind and moved into the room. They formed a small triangle as they all stared at each other. There didn’t seem to be any sides. Heath didn’t look pleased. Damascus didn’t look pleased. Tamara looked overjoyed.

“Tamara, Damascus.”

“Hello,” Tamara smiled.

“Heath, I take it you didn’t ask for this?”

“Do I seem insane?” Heath asked straightforwardly.

Damascus pulled the hood down from his cowl and rested it on his shoulders. The rather amazing and deep green robe started to shimmer as it solidified as if it hadn’t really been here until now. He turned his head, looking like a normal middle-aged man to everyone. At least, until you got to his eyes.They were yellow and seemed like they had been plucked directly out of a goat’s head and stuffed into a human skull. To say it was unsettling was to put it kindly. “Let’s not answer that question. I’ve no desire to develop enmity with you, Heath.”

“Besides your chosen trying to kill my chosen?” Heath raised an eyebrow with a half-smile.

“Besides your chosen insulting and provoking my chosen. That’s neither here nor there. I obey.”

“I obey,” Heath said roughly in response.

“Same.” Tamara snickered.

“Then why are you here?” Damascus sneered, an extremely unpleasant look on his face. The chosen in the room all shivered.

“I’m returning a favor? I’m mediating at the request of Amaranthe. Isn’t that why any of us do anything? Well, besides,” Tamara smiled, “because we want to.”

“Amaranthe?” Damascus asked, and he and Heath actually both turned with various degrees of surprise on their face. She shrunk slightly and would have pulled away but Harper was still helping hold her up. “She doesn’t seem stupid.”

“Why would she be stupid? Are you saying that she has offended you? Would you lower yourself to try and go after someone that I’m doing a favor for?” Tamara frowned. “Let’s forget that it would make Heath mad--”

“It would?” Heath asked dryly. He was pretty sure he was here just for background noise at this point. Like an afterthought.

“--and go with how I’d rip you to pieces if you did anything to her because of this…” Tamara shrugged and trailed a finger in a lazy infinity sign on the table. The wood actually started to peel while she considered her next words. “...incident.”

“I see. So you’re mediating. How nice of you.” Damascus sighed. “What is your judgment of the situation and how do you intend to resolve it?”

“I’m going to kill Lucian because I don’t like him,” Tamara said frankly.

Lucian blinked and started to speak but Damascus held a hand up to the side. Lucian quieted and settled back.

“Well, that’s not going to happen for the same reasons I’m not going to kill Amaranthe,” Damascus said diplomatically. “If I let my chosen get killed by any god they looked cross-eyed at I’d never have any for more than a day.”

“Well, I’ve given my word to resolve this situation and help out Harper on behalf of Amaranthe--”

Harper looked down at Amaranthe with wide-eyes.

“Fine,” Damascus rolled his eyes and turned to Lucian. “You there, kid, let bygones be bygones. Take a step back and you and Harper will go your separate ways and try not to look at each other, okay?” Lucian nodded slowly, apparently not willing to say anything other than yes to his patron. Damascus turned to Heath briefly, who said nothing, and turned to Harper. “Okay?”

“Okay.” Harper nodded, knowing that she was just the audience.

“Okay.” Damascus turned to Tamara and half-smiled. “You obey, right?”

“I obey.” Tamara nodded sagely. “So, they’ll both step back and this trial ends and they go back to whatever it was they were doing. This matter is settled and I have kept my word that the situation would be resolved peacefully. Do you accept this?” Tamara half-glanced at Amaranthe.

There was a slight hesitation from Amaranthe. Everyone in the room stilled, blinking rapidly. All Amaranthe had to do was say that she accepted it and everyone would leave here. Alive.

Amaranthe, however, wasn’t sure what Tamara wanted her to do. This had never, after all, been about what Amaranthe wanted. She looked at Heath. A brief smile lit his face and he nodded shallowly.

“Yes, this one accepts. Thank you for the f-favor.”

“Hey, no problem!”

“Tamara, there are no medications, magical elixirs, tinctures, powers, or energies in the universe to prescribe for the sheer amount of anxiety and annoyance you cause me.” Damascus pulled his hood up with a sigh. “Was this because you're bored? I could find shit for you to do.”

“Well..?” Tamara grinned impishly, and for a moment everyone in the room relaxed. “Sort of. I’m just glad we got this out of the way. It makes me nervous, giving my word to try and do something, you know? I don’t do it very often.”

Heath and Damascus started to agree, everyone started to relax, and Damascus had even turned to give Amaranthe a grateful nod to let her know it hadn’t been a big deal. Tamara was just, exasperatingly, like that. He was turned away when the next words Tamara spoke made him still as he considered their implications.

“So you know, twice in one day? I gotta do it right, right?” A what can you do voice from behind Damascus and his eyes widened in shock as he turned around and saw her.

She was holding Lucian’s severed head up by his long hair. The hair he was so proud of was nothing more than a handle now. From the expression of calm on his face, he had died without even understanding that his life had ended.

“So, before you got here…” Tamara shrugged her shoulders mischievously and she gave a cringed smile. “Because you were slow… he said he’d trade his life for a chance for his lips to touch the same place mine did...”

Heath turned toward Amaranthe and Harper without a word. Two steps and he was placing a hand on both their shoulders. They were immediately gone.

Tamara picked up the half-eaten apple from the table and pressed it against Lucian’s lips. She let it and the head fall to the floor. They both bounced in a surprisingly similar fashion.

“Tada! Keeping my word feels super good.” Tamara beamed brilliantly at Damascus.

Damascus had his hood up so she couldn’t see his face.

“You hear me? Anyway. This wasn’t because I was bored. It’s because I fucking hate you; I want to kill you for that time you held me down while the Table cut out my best friend's soul, Damascus. What do you think?”

“Good. Good. Good…” Damascus started laughing.