--- Alasse POV

I ordered my servant to remain behind and guard my tent, my petty anger towards her not yet reconciled. She left her post, any professionalism discarded upon sighting an unpalatable visitor. While the grown-ups may discuss her situation during a meeting, her presence, opinion, and objections irrelevant. Ugh! You give some a little encouragement; a glimmer of hope and they lose their sense of place.

The Matriarch, Lesser House or not didn’t lack venom though and her elemental mastery over soil solving the mystery of my impeccable camp site. The relocation into the forest proper, disruptive for most and yet for me a morning stroll to inspect the efforts of others and then a return in the afternoon to my modest dwelling now relocated and prepared for habitation. Elemental mastery over soil must include dust as well, my hissing laughter unrestrained, that particular mastery so apt for a servant House. I must be becoming unhinged, belittling a dedicated servant solely due to her skills. I sober up, the Lessor Houses are due, the Goddess’ Temple is soon to be consecrated and we have more Questor Groups to discover and finally we all need to survive the wrath of the Great Houses and whomever else disagrees with us. No pressure at all.

A further example of the Matriarch’s dedication is underfoot. The forest is now navigable, several packed dirt paths made, one of which skirts the inside of a new low rampart facing the Dungeon. Behind this protection several modest forest clearings to accommodate four or five tents sites facing a common fireplace leaving the majority of the forest untouched. My long slim tongue snakes out and for the first time in a long time I appreciate the scents and perfumes of the flora and fauna inhabitants, such a simple relaxing joy and much overdue as I wind my way along another path to inspect another camp, while pondering the ways of my Goddess.

Sceptical at first, my Goddess’s assurance the group failures and desertions simply irrelevant went a long way to eliminate my nagging doubt ushering in a heartening change. Failure accepted if learnt from, improvement encouraged. Those who ultimately win are the ones who pick themselves up after failure, grow from the experience and try again. Most Matriarchs in contrast make their reputations and maintain their vicious grip on rulership by punishing failure in several different ways, few of which offer the victim redemption, let alone the opportunity of learning from any mistakes.

A cold blade slides across my throat scales; I am certain drawing blood.

“A hand movement or a hiss and the blade will taste more of your flesh.”

Who uses words like ‘taste more of your flesh’ I ask myself? I suppose I should be more concerned about my safety and yet those of the camp know who I am and clandestine assassination while possible provides what? So, a stranger then, most likely from Quest Town especially since the Snake Kin pronunciation excellent while not entirely without defects, the occasional mis-hissing for example. Therefore, not Snake Kin yet many years in our company. Servant of another House? At the very least an agent of investigation then, a more apt objective for a clandestine assailant.

“I don’t wish to die,” I protest in a weak voice.

“Move off the path to the left, I have prepared a quiet place for us to chat.”

I nod, keeping my head lowered, adding in some nervous hand wringing and the occasional whimpering hiss. A chat sounds nice with dusk having just fallen and the nocturnal fauna about to fill the forest. I didn’t want to miss the occasion by appearing too bold.

We round a large rock and a smallish cave opening greets me, mmm snug. I am forced to pull and drag myself in, most undignified and humbling, yet for some insane reason I am enjoying this adventure for now. A change of pace, a real situation before me and not a near-off unknown future? Once inside I am instructed not to turn around, my hands are bound behind me and I remain torso resting upon the coils of my tail facing a blank stone wall. Some scratching, jostling of leaves; I assume to conceal the entrance and then the striking of flint and a low flickering firelight dances upon the wall around my silhouette. Little smoke, so the kindling well dried, speaks of preparation. I relax a little more, I am the captive of a professional.

“How many in the camp?”

The first question of my captivity, obvious of course, but would a solitary unimportant Snake Kin know the answer? No pleasantries first?

“I am uncertain, never needing to count them or anything,” I hiss tentatively.

“Guess.”

I delay my response. “May be sixty or seventy?”

“All Snake Beast Kin?”

I lighten my voice, a sense of excitement. “Oh no, a wonderous mix of many Kin, quite the experience for one such as I, first time out in the world.” Oh, my sharp fangs, I should have replied with ‘Beast Kin’ not ‘Kin’, will my oh so professional interrogator pick up on …

“Why Kin and not Beast Kin?” The cold steel of a dagger taps my shoulder.

“Alasse, Expedition Leader insists … we are all Kin, we need to be all one Kin in a future struggle … she insists we take her word on trust … I am sorry if I offended you …” I sniff, bobbing my head.

The dagger leaves my shoulder and I cease my whining and exhale. A silence endures and as I wonder about desertion and prepare to speak to check it seems my patience is rewarded, outlasting my captor by several precious moments. Nature abhors quiet it seems and an urge; an almost imperative need bloomed near the end for me to speak. My ensuing prattle could have revealed anything, a definite lesson for me right there.

“You didn’t offend, just curious.” Open unabashed sympathy heavy in his voice … um … yes, a him. So nice, why? “What can you tell me of your leader?”

His break the eggshell question! Not long waiting … time for some fun.

“She is a mystery, not many hold an audience with her, certainly not the likes of me. But …”

“But …” he softly repeats.

I lift my head high, an act or tell I hope, given his acquaintance with Snake Kin, suggesting I enjoy his interest in what I have to say. “Well, several are special, not all Snake Beast Kin, they issue her commands to others in the camp, they report to her – some say she styles herself a Matriarch already.” The last words I speak in a low hush.

A howling laugh erupts behind me. Dog Kin then. More patience than pure Dog though, either wolf or fox, although more likely fox, wolves are skirmishers in the main, foxes are more … let us be diplomatic and say circumspect. I wonder about the dog’s backstory, perhaps a captive from the war and yet trusted to act alone, more than a slave for certain. Willing and earnest in the performance of his duty, his area of professionalism. Such a valuable asset to any Matriarch and I find myself slightly jealous. I assume Matriarch, slim chance of a Dog Command dupe, an alternative which would be an unpleasant development …

“You speak Snake Beast Kin well,” I offer, my attempt to fish for information blatantly deliberate, anything less and he may grow suspicious.

His laughter ends abruptly. “Yes I do, don’t I.”

I bow my head in defeat.

“Nice try. Remember who is in command here. You are at my mercy.”

I nod my head in what I hope appears to be obvious defeat or at least sombre agreement.

“You have been very pleasant company, but I need to report back while the night is still young.” The rustle of branches again and then quiet and I await his departure. “I would advise you distance yourself from Alasse as I suspect a forthcoming challenge, which could result in deaths to bystanders. I will know if you warn her, based upon any preparations she takes so the choice of sides is yours. Choose wisely.” He chuckle-howls and then a shuffle through the entrance and I know him gone.

I grow a blade of ice from the cave floor and cut my bonds, rubbing my wrists out of habit, not need. A challenge from a Matriarch doesn’t make sense, no profit. I am not a Matriarch so those who I command are under no obligation to follow the one who defeats me, the primary reason why Matriarchs don’t parade around the countryside. At best, the victor earns the ire of my Matriarch, although the expedition would be stopped in its tracks I suppose as no other holds her favour. The only new Snake Kin expected are those of the Lower Houses intrigued by the offer of profit and yet this Matriarch, if her agent is to be believed has the strength to defeat the Leader of the Expedition who offered the contract, regardless of the consequences. Much food for thought, ugh, now to crawl out, so undignified, if only a certain Matriarch accompanied me to shift the soil from my path …

--- Aphrodite POV

My attempts to carry the female human and fly an abysmal failure, a Pegasus I am not. The magnificent creature leaping from the knowledge my Creator shared with me before … separation. I shake off the memory and recap, the only success this early morning, my efforts have roused her from unconsciousness, although her screeching …

“What have you done with him you beast! His beauty can’t be lost to the …”

I slap her. My handprint painted in red across her cheek, a hand rubbing the hurt. “Better,” I say.

She pouts and pokes out her tongue. Small price to pay for silence I decide.

I can’t seem to slay her, although if I allow her to scream at me long enough … no, deep down I know I can’t and I don’t rightly understand why, something ‘human’. I can’t fly while carrying her and yet I need to urgently negotiate with Arsu, her animated dead should be able to explore the ocean bottom for a certain chest and her contracted intruders should know a reasonable starting point for such a search.

“Walk back to the village, I will meet you there as soon as I can.”

Her mouth drops open. “What of the dead things, the slaves, masters, they will take me and do what they want.”

Her eyes wide open she lunges at me, arms outstretched. I slither back and she grasps thin air.

Tears burst from her eyes. “I wish I never left port, curse my dead parent’s bones.” A loud sob. “My father especially. For on his deathbed he mumbled his final wish, I become a Ship’s Captain, be the boy he never had …” she sniffs.

“Walk back to the village, if any accost you scream at them you are the property of Aphrodite and they will leave you be.”

“Are you Aphrodite?”

I sigh and nod in affirmation.

“Will they … will they really leave me alone?”

“I am certain.” Truth is, I am reasonably certain. The animated dead didn’t protest when I positioned them for the ambush so by extension, given their orders would be simple I would think Arsu would order them to ambush and capture the sailors and ignore others … perhaps. The contracted intruders would be gifted a level of free will and are now probably in charge of any roaming animated dead as a further backup and mention of my name should restrain their own independent inclinations … I hope.

Sniffing she pulls out a small square of cloth from a pocket of her dress wiping away her tears and then blowing her nose. The folded cloth is returned to its pocket and she looks into my eyes. I can’t resist staring for some reason, appreciating the display of civilised behaviour.

“I trust you. Thank-you for healing my feet by the way, I assume you?”

Maybe I am served better by nominating another. “Not I, your saviour.”

“Truly?! Not only beautiful, a healer as well.”

I prepare to catch her as she twists her head to one side and looks up wistfully, fingers interlacing over her heart as if willing his return.

I quickly cover up a sly smirk. “Given your reaction, I didn’t want to mention this … although you seem well recovered, so perhaps.”

Her bright green eyes eagerly lock onto mine and the unbridled hope in them almost convinces me to confess the truth. The struggle to lie to her, mistaken by her as my resistance to divulge any further information, but somehow, I do, to her undying relief. “He said he wanted to check the village, heal any injured and care for any not taken.”

“You should have said so from the outset, I am well in command of my feminine feelings now, the initial shock you know, well perhaps you don’t.” Her nose wrinkles. “Never mind,” she says, nose rising. “I leave to join my love and future husband to aid him in all he does.”

With a sweep of her dress she scurries off towards the village. I sigh with relief, the sight of her shrinking into the distance a most welcome sight.

A hurried flight over the forest and by mid-afternoon in my Living Construct form I find myself lying upon the stone roof of Arsu’s Dungeon asking for assistance without guile.

“What is in this chest?”

“Magic craft,” I answer.

“Why wouldn’t I need this for my own pets?”

“Have you investigated Gift Named Intruders Skills by any chance?”

I sense a humft.

“Running after you occupied most of my time.”

I hold my tongue, or mind speech, I suspect playing with her new toys especially the contract part, more likely the distraction. Getting into a debate about such wouldn’t benefit me, hence my silent patience.

“Most intriguing, so you propose someone else learns the craft, becomes trapped in my Dungeon and I gift the skill to a favourite contracted Named Intruder. Intriguing and yet such will only provide me with one, what if I need more?”

“Perhaps you offer a contract to the one and they can teach more but if not, your Dungeon ability will be able to force the issue.”

Like a petulant child she replies, “I need a test.”

I am the only viable ‘gift giver’, which means I need to be cautious and somehow trusting, although who does she have as a Named Intruder?

“Who have you appointed a Named Intruder?” I am certain she has one, otherwise why demand a test.

Her mind link squirms a little, a tease. Then an image bursts into my mind and in an instant, I almost feel dirty somehow, the moustache a haunting reminder of the obese cook.

“He also asks for his treasure back and I for one also find myself eager to examine what humans would value beyond their precious lives. You see during his contract and naming negotiation he insisted I recover his trinkets and coins and I am a lady of my word. An easy request given I intimately know the thief.” An echo of a laughter vibrates down our mind link lasting long enough for me to restrain myself from saying something foolish.

“I find myself on the poorer side of the ledger, I supply you with all the village occupants and now a treasure, further I am to be a test subject for your Dungeon Gift Ability and all I ask is for some skeletons to retrieve a chest.”

“Well, I never, so unappreciative, let me see.” I imagine a finger on her chin, does she have a chin? “Firstly, my new friends know where to start the search and you didn’t gift me with all the villages, one I have allowed to go free on instinct, being associated with you.”

A small knot of angst manifests in my stomach, my teeth begin to grind given the implied threat.

“I could be mistaken of course and snap her up quickly.”

The girl maybe lovesick stupid but if I can’t slay her then I must protect her, the threat implied no longer, and my blood begins to boil.

“The treasure will take time to find, but eventually it will be found and not too far from the village I suspect as you lugged a fur bag of dirt around at the end.”

My body tenses ready to … what? I don’t know because she is too far away to truly threaten, my empty clenching hands revealing my impotence.

“So, if you are unhappy, I feel our business is concluded.”

Dismissed! She is dismissing me! My fists pound the stone roof.

“My, temper, temper now.” Her giggling girl laughter the final straw.

{Subject to Primary Emotional Journey - Anger: +3% Sentient Dominate. Sentient Dominate 80%}

{Do you wish to Lockout Monster Dominate (57%) due to Soul being Sentient Dominate (80%)? Y/N}

I mentally scream N.

{Do you wish to Lockout Sentient Dominate (80%) due to Soul being Dungeon Dominate (87%)? Y/N}

I mentally scream N. I always answer N why doesn’t the system know by now? My hands fly to my face and I unleash a scream into the real world.

I mentally shout. “You would be a nothing, asleep and ignorant but for me, a pathetic ineffectual pimple on the perimeter of the world. Make no mistake, you owe me, and I demand a just compensation for services rendered!”

My chest expands and contracts as I suck in deep breaths, my heart pounding and with conscious effort I still my thrashing arms and legs.

“Well … perhaps there is some truth to what you say …”

“Some truth!”

“Perhaps when you calm down, we can continue, your anger is making me quite distressed and my Dungeon minions feel my emotion, they get distraught when their Mother is upset, and the situation just isn’t good for them.”

The word Mother is like a lightning strike to my heart releasing all my anger, to attack a mother, even with threatening words is a grievous cowardly sin. A sin which strikes at a core belief of mine, the sanctity of motherhood, confirmation plain in this moment.

“I apologise.” My concession swimming across our mind link, attempting to find calm.

“You are right, and I accept your apology and offer my own and can only attribute any misbehaviour due to my sudden taste of power after a long … slumber.”

Silence follows. Hopefully, thoughtful reticence.

“I acknowledge my rise is solely due to your efforts and for that I am eternally grateful and should as you say offer fair compensation for the service you rendered. Also, I will not forget for a moment my acquisition of Azizos’ gifts although I suspect you were as much surprised as I when they flowed to me ... nevertheless, still of value, which I humbly recognise.”

My relief is heart achingly real. “I accept your apology also and wish to begin again, I am truly interested in both of us benefitting from a position of mutual trust as our goals while different are aligned.”

There is another period of silence, perhaps she is collecting her thoughts readying for round two.

“It is done, my animated dead will locate the remains of the shipwreck and bring everything back, to search for something specific beyond their level of understanding.”

“So quickly?”

“I created a narrow passage from the mana of my latest additions this day, from here, along the mountain side ending in a secret entrance near the village. I plan to make the village a lure, entice more humans to come to the rescue of the survivors and an entrance nearby a tremendous … convenience. So, there you go. Also, your girl is safe, she is being directed to occupy the Cook’s cottage, absent the Cook of course.”

Her words stun me. I flash a quick thank-you across our mind link welcoming her actions to assist me.