Viin’s head was about ready to explode, which considering the astronomical headache plaguing her wasn’t such a bad option. But even that paled compared to her current predicament. The constant check-ups and medical treatments she underwent were, for the most part, unwelcomed and painful, however, she understood why they were necessary. It was her hourly visitors that bothered her. Her employer and his friends were taking turns to come speak to her or simply observe her in silence. All pretence of being gone, showing themselves to her in their true horrible form.

The thing that bothered her the most was the fact that they didn’t look all that different from normal people. Sure, they were slightly taller and bulkier but it wasn’t enough to explain why she found them so frightening. It had to be they eyes, she concluded after a while. Pith black pits with pupils the colour of frozen water, those terrifying orbs seemed to be burrowing straight into her soul whenever they looked at her. But worst of all was the Goddess. Viin still couldn’t believe that she had seen the actual Goddess that guided her people since the dawn of civilization. Not only that, the girl had tried and failed to speak to her. Her tongue refused to move each time She came to visit her, speaking in a language that the girl couldn’t understand. However, what was she supposed to do? Tell the bloody Goddess that she was speaking in tongues? Or risk telling the others and, in this way, incurring the wrath of a deity?

Viin could never do such a thing. If the Goddess chose to speak to her in tongues, it was her duty to listen and obey. At least that’s what the sacred text preached. The secretary had a few chosen thoughts on that matter that she would very much like to share with the priestesses when and if she got the chance. First and foremost, of which was, how was she supposed to obey when she had no fucking clue what was being asked of her! She sighed and returned her attention to the display of the vitals monitor attached to the side of her bed. It wasn’t much, but it was her only distraction in the gloomy room she was imprisoned in. Either that or the notes she was forced to make during the hourly interrogations they subjected her to.

That was perhaps the second worst part of the visits. Her employer and the others kept asking her question that the elf should be able to answer, but somehow could not. Where was she born? What was her home address? The names of her parents? What day of the week it was? Simple things, and yet, every time she tried to answer, her mind went blank. Her entire memory was a mess, and Viin could hardly recall anything before Cylin’s first arrived at Mr Regis’ office.

The girl was startled by the sound of her door opening. She could swear that no more than ten minutes had passed since the last time someone came to speak to her, and it was too early for her next check-up. Oddly enough, not one but two people entered the room. First came Herr Altstark, followed closely by the Goddess herself. Looking at the face of the divine, Viin quickly lowered her eyes and glued them to her trembling hands.

“Cie kopa li efteras.” The voice of the Goddess rang in her ears, and the young elf could feel the disappointment in it. It took all her willpower not to break down and burst into tears.

“I’m sorry.” Even to Viin, her own voice sounded quiet and there was no hiding the fear it carried.

“Is there any pain?” Herr Altstark asked in a cold clinical tone.

“Just… Just the usual headache,” the elf answered after gathering her strength to open her mouth.

“Zor thatha!” This time there was urgency in the Goddess’ words. “Zor, Till, thatha? Y finna jo cie eftera. Neh atal?” She spoke rapidly to the venerated Doctor, before almost shouting at Viin. “Li efteras cie, neh atal?!”

“I… I’m sorry…” The secretary whispered and heavy tears stained the cloth covering her. At this point, she could no longer stop her body from trembling like a leaf.

“That is somewhat concerning. Tell me, child, what did our friend say to you?” The Doctor asked, keeping his tone calm and fatherly. “Do not worry. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“I dare not…”

“You have no idea whatsoever. I see.” Viin heard the man scribble something in the notebook he carried. “In that case, can you repeat what she said, even if you don’t understand it? A close approximation of the sound would be enough.”

“I dare not!” Viin exclaimed in shock. He was asking her to commit blasphemy and in front of the Goddess nonetheless. The elf would rather take her own life than do it.

“Thorasla, why do you test me!” Till yelled and the elf shuddered at the mention of one of the abominable Dragon Gods. “If I knew it would kill me, I would welcome the aneurism you lot are going to give me!”

There was a moment of silence before the old man continued. “Listen, young one, you will tell me what I ask freely, or I’ll make you. The choice is yours.”

It was no idle threat as far as Viin could tell. This was what she had been of afraid of all this time. She was stuck between a… between a…. Damn it! Of all the times, why did her mind choose to fail her now? It just wasn’t fair. If she refused, she would be in trouble, and if she agreed she would be in trouble. It was all becoming too much for her. However, the young elf couldn’t allow this situation to become any worse than what it already was. And then it came to her. Perhaps the venerated Doctor could help her. Yes, this had to be it, Viin concluded. After all, he could understand the Goddess.

“Zorta data. Finaj o’chii. Liftera. Nehatal.” She tired her best to mimic the words the divine being had used the most.

There was a long moment of silence before the sound of a loud slap disturbed it. Followed closely by Till’s angry roar. “Idiot!”

Viin couldn’t believe it, this human had dared to strike the Goddess. No matter how skilled or influential the Altstark was, his name could not save him now. That’s if he’s human to begin with, she reminded herself. All the young girl could do was keep her mouth closed and watch with abject terror as the Goddess rose to her feet, whipping the blood from her split lip. Getting between those two beings was the last thing the elf would ever do. That, she was certain of.

“Thata li ja hek?!” The Goddess bared at the red-faced man, her slender hand curling into a fist.

“Because you are an idiot! But I guess, so am I,” Till didn’t move, daring her to strike him. “Now that she’s pointed it out, I notice it clearly. You’re speaking in that unintelligible ancient dialect of yours!”

“Kek?”

“Damn it, Inney! That poor thing isn’t one of your lunatic followers, of course, she won’t understand a bloody word you say.” The Doctor let out a sigh. “When was the last time you spoke the modern language? You know what, I don’t care. There’s nothing wrong with her, and I can’t begin to list all the things wrong with you!”

With that said, Till stormed out of the room, leaving Viin alone with the Goddess. A few more words followed from the corridor, but they were too distorted for the young elf to make out. However, it was clear that the Goddess understood them perfectly well. Like a hurricane, the divine creature pulled one of the two chairs and sat on it, one leg on top of the other, arms crossed over her chest.

“Bark for brains. Bark. For. Brians! The nerve!” Viin’s jaw dropped at the words she was hearing coming out of the Goddess’ mouth. “Oh! She understands now!” The deity cooed.

“Forgive me!” The secretary exclaimed and hurried to lower her head. “I didn’t mean to look…” How was one supposed to address a divine being, she pondered before settling for the first honorific that came in her head. “Your Holiness.”

Viin nearly jumped out of the bed, when she heard the chair splinter against the far wall. And her blood turned to ice as the Goddess screamed at her.

“Don’t you fucking dare call me that!”

Something shattered in the young elf’s mind and she dared to lift her head and look at the furious expression of the one she worshipped. She might not know how a divine being is supposed to talk, but somehow, she was sure that this wasn’t it. For a moment she dared to wonder if this was some sick joke. But ignoring the fear that gripped her heart was not an easy task.

“Then, how should I address you, mistress?” She chose a more neutral honorific this time, hoping to avoid further angering the Goddess.

As suddenly as rage had consumed her, the deity calmed and sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing her chin. “You know, I never thought about that? Aunty? Aunt Inney? Inney? It’s all the same to me, honestly. Pick whichever you like.”

If Viin’s jaw could detach itself from her head, it would be somewhere on the floor. This was beyond absurd, it had to be some fevered dream. Or something had gone horribly wrong with her brain. There was no other explanation for what she was hearing. Without a second thought, she pressed the button that would summon the Doctor before the Goddess snatched it from her hands and threw it in the direction of the door at the exact moment it moved.

“Stay the fuck out, Till! Or I swear, I’ll hurt you this time! This is a family matter.”

“Should I be worried for the child’s safety?” The Doctor remanded from the outside.

“No!” The deity barked. “You have my word.”

“I’m going to need more than that.”

“Fine…” The Goddess’ shoulders dropped. “Lilly can enter. But only her. No one else.” She then turned towards Viin. “That one-eyed bitch knows how to keep her snout shut.”

A moment later the door opened and Lady Altstark stepped into the room. Quietly she leaned against the wall and offered the secretary a faint smile. Surprisingly, she wasn’t wearing one of her expensive dresses. Instead, a dirty pair of fatigues adored her body, and Viin couldn’t help but notice the stun gloves on her hands. If she didn’t know better, the young elf would’ve mistaken the woman for a former soldier.

“Let’s start over.” Inney offered. “You remember I’m your aunt, right?”

For the first time since the start of this absurdity, Viin felt doubt creep inside her mind. Frantically she glanced through the notes spread over her lap. This had to be a mistake, she was sure of it. There was no way she could forget something like this, and with all the questions the others asked her about her family, Viin was sure that the name of her aunt had come up at some point.

There! She picked up the crumpled piece of paper and made sure that the handwriting was her own. Just as she thought, she had only one aunt and her name was Ay.

“No…”

“Technically, great-great-great-aunt, but that’s not important now,” Inney shrugged and Viin saw Lilly nod from the corner of her eye. “You’re the great-granddaughter of my youngest sister.”

“But you are the Goddess…”

Inney roared in rage and her hand moved faster than Viin thought possible, stopping halfway to her head. “It’s all good.”

The young elf had completely missed when Lilly had moved, and yet, the human woman’s fist was but a hair’s width away from the Goddess’ face. This only confirmed the secretary’s conviction that none of these people were ordinary mortals.

Very slowly, Inney placed both her hands on her lap and watched as Lilly returned to the wall. “I wasn’t going to hurt her.” She scoffed at Lady Altstark.

“No. You’re not.”

“Let me make one thing clear,” Inney returned her attention to Viin as if nothing had happened. “Yes, I am your so-called Goddess, but I’m no God. Nor am I some divine being. I would appreciate it if you could stop treating me as such. Creating this stupid religion was a mistake.”

“I will try.” It was the only thing the young elf could say.

From the side came Lilly’s cough, and the secretary saw the woman tap her chest. At that the Goddess, no, Inney smacked her head and fished a foldable datapad from inside her robe. “Right! Words are not enough. You know how to read, right? Here, read this.”

Carefully, Viin took the offered item and focused on the content on the display. There was no problem reading it, but she couldn’t make out heads or tails of all the medical terms and scientific data dancing before her eyes.

“Open the next page,” Lilly offered trying to suppress a giggle. “It’s like leading the blind, with the both of you.”

Blushing, the young elf read the short passage, and then read it aloud just to be sure.

“Analysis of blood samples confirms genetic ancestry between Viin Tar and Inney Asal. Matrimonial markers match rate of a hundred per hundred. Chance of errors is zero, due to both subjects being of elven descent. Due to subject, Inney Asal classification as infertile, the only possible connection between both subjects is aunt and niece.”

Viin dropped the foldable datapad and looked at the Goddess in disbelief. “You are my aunt.”

“Yep,” a broad smile appeared on Inney’s face. “Now that that’s sorted, it’s time you learn proper etiquette for tomorrow’s dinner.”

“What? It’s been only three days since the surgery!”

“So?” The Goddess arched an eyebrow. “Medically speaking, you’re fine. We’ve kept you here because it became obvious that you couldn’t understand me since day one.”

“We?” Lilly asked from the back.

“Fine. I was the one who insisted we keep you in here until Till could figure out what was wrong with you.” With that said, Inney grabbed Viin’s hand and dragged her out of the bed. “Now let’s go! We’ve got a lot to cover and very little time.”

She couldn’t believe it. She was sitting at the same table as Emperor Janek XIV Hester. Not in her wildest dreams could Viin think such a thing possible. Then again, neither could she imagine that she shared the same blood as the Goddess. Actually, the more she thought about it, the more the modified elf was convinced that she was way out of place in this gathering. Some of the most powerful and influential people in the entire Dominion were gathered at the same table in honour of Aula Hester’s coming of age dinner.

The official part of the ceremony dinner was about what the secretary expected. Hundreds of nobles, tycoons and people with more money than should be possible, all pretending to like each other, while consuming meals that cost more than what the young elf could make in a year. At least for those few early hours, Viin had been happy to be seated on the side with the other escorts. Of course, since she was the only elf, everyone had pretty much ignored her, which was a blessing. Pretending to be part of the Temple’s clergy was hardly convincing as it was and wouldn’t have fooled a single elf, but these humans couldn’t care any less about her religion, to begin with.

Well, to her credit, she had tried to talk with the dwarven assistant engineer and the lamian inquisitor, since they were the only other non-human escorts. But after a few cordial greetings, it became obvious that there was scant they could talk about. She had no understanding of the arts of engineering and knew even less about ancient tomes and the others were politely ignorant of matters that related to religion. So, Viin had actually spent that part of dinner enjoying herself and consuming the extravagant meals, served to her by the dead-eyed servants, in peace.

But as with everything, this came with a price and she was paying it now. As soon as the official part had ended, the emperor retreated with his family and a few selected guests into a private dining chamber. She had hoped that she would be overlooked, or that only humans would be allowed entry. It made sense that Mr Regis and Miss Cylin, who pretended to be his wife, were invited. And there was no surprise that both the Altstarks were politely asked to join the emperor. Of course, Dom Q was invited as well, considering that Her Highness Aula was drooling all over him. The inclusion of the Goddess, who assumed to role of Lo’tul the Rath’ar, was a mild surprise, however.

There were a handful of other carefully chosen nobles as well, but they were of little interest to Viin. Mostly because she knew nothing about them, and because she was far too busy pretending to be Inney’s interpreter for the night. Considering the foul mouth her aunt had, it was obvious why she chose not to speak openly. The young elf couldn’t imagine the commotion one of her outbursts would cause. But she was sure that it could potentially spell the ruination of the entire Temple.

So trapped was Viin in her thoughts, that she missed the question the emperor directed at the Goddess. Thankfully, the scrolling text on the inside of her glasses allowed her to answer, while the Rath’ar moved her fingers in what had to be a mockery of the sacred sign language the Holy Order used.

“There is no need for Your Majesty to worry himself with such things. A new Asai will ascend soon, and the masses will follow her guiding words.” Viin gave it her best, not to sound like a robot while she read the answer her aunt typed discreetly under her robes with her other hand.

“That’s very good to hear, honoured Lo’tul,” the emperor gave a fake smile. “However, it does not answer my question. What of the splintering inside the Temple clergy?”

Viin waited a second before speaking again. Looking at the hand of the Goddess instead of the emperor, as was expected of someone in her position.

“Such a rift is normal during an important event such as the re-birth of the Asai. Some are weaker of faith than others, but they shall see the truth. As for the more radical elements, they are being dealt with internally.”

“I’m sorry, honoured Lo’tul, but I hardly think a slap on the wrists is a sufficient punishment for openly inciting rebellion against the Dominion.” This time the emperor smiled like a cat that had caught a mouse, smirks from the other nobles accompanied his words.

Even Viin could see that there was intent in their actions. However, she was a professional and delivered the next answer with the same impassionate monotone.

“Your Majesty is allowed to think what he wants.” That was clearly a jibe if she had ever heard one. “I could provide further details if Your Majesty so wishes. However, I don’t think such words as suitable for the ears of women and children.”

There was a moment of silence while Janek XIV if the remark was a well-veiled insult directed at him. “Of course,” he said carefully and dismissed his wife and children with a gesture. Clearly, their part was over and they could retire to their chambers if the expression on the empress’ face was anything to go by.

“You too Aula.” The emperor raised his hand stopping the protest that his daughter was about to issue. “I know you are no longer a child, but you must prepare your luggage.”

“I understand, father.” The Princess wasn’t happy with this, but she was obedient.

Once the extras had properly exited the private dining room, fresh lines of text began to appear on the inside of Viin’s glasses.

“Would Your Majesty be so kind as to ask the servants to bring the gift, I’ve prepared for you?”

Intrigued, the emperor nodded and a pair of servants left the room before returning a minute later with a large climate-controlled box in tow. Their pale faces were enough to inform Janek XIV that nothing pleasant was stored inside the half-meter long box. They placed the item on the table and one of them whispered in the emperor’s ear.

“I hope there is a good explanation for this, Lo’tul.” Janek XIV demanded, the mirth draining from his voice.

“But I already explained myself, Your Majesty. All radical elements are being dealt with internally. As proof, I’ve brought you the heads of the leaders of said radical factions. If Your Majesty still doubts that the Temple is taking this matter seriously, I can arrange for the heads of all one thousand and thirty-six unbelievers to be delivered to the imperial palace.”

“That wouldn’t be necessary,” was quick to reject the offer visibly sickened. Whatever it was, this wasn’t the outcome he was expecting.

“It’s time for your next lesson. Now, you learn what it means to be a part of my family.” Viin caught herself in time before reading the lines that appeared on her glasses.

Inney took her glass and rose it in the air for a toast. “E isa Neth’ra.” As one her so-called family repeated the phrase in eery unison. Followed somewhat awkwardly by the other nobles and the emperor himself.

“So be it.” Viin could taste the sadistic satisfaction in her aunt’s voice.

As soon as the last word escaped her lips, the chrome limiter around Cylin’s neck exploded into a fine mist. In seconds the skin melted from the gathered nobles, pouring like hot wax at their feet. They were dead before they knew what happened. All the Janek XIV could do was watch mouth agape like a dimwit, while he failed to comprehend what had occurred.

“You demand!?” Martell roared and slid a torn envelope bearing the imperial seal across the table. “You dare threaten us!? Know your place, you insignificant fly!”

“I…”

“Be quiet, worm, and there may be a chance for you to keep your empty head on your shoulders.” The head of the GS roared again. “Do you know how easy it will be to plunge the Dominion into chaos? It will take us less than a week to dismantle the empire we’ve created over the past two thousand years. Or has the line of Hester forgotten all its debts?”

Slowly Martell moved closer to Janek XIV. Each step emphasises his words.

“Have you forgotten about us? Let me refresh your memory, emperor of the Dominion. We are the Twenty. We are the embodiment of the Great Dragons. We are the Slayers of Gods! And we can be your doom.”

By the time he finished, her employer’s voice was impossibly deep and guttural, resembling the rumbling of an actual dragon. Like a mountain, he towered over the shrinking Janek. The other Slayers, standing on either of his sides, equally intimidating.

“But we are not bloodthirsty monsters. Not yet. Know this fly, rebuilding this empire we’ve created is far more costly than replacing the puppet that sits at the top.”

As if to illustrate his point, Martell picked the disk adoring the emperor’s head and placed it gently on top of the severed elven head in the box on the table.

“You are in luck, Janek, the fourteenth of his name, of the line of Hester. We are a sacrifice short today, so we will take your daughter, as you demand. I hope you’ve said your farewells.”

With the snap of Martell’s fingers, Dom Q peeled himself from the group.

“Remember our generosity, for there will be no second warning.”