--- Ruler Goddess Aphrodite POV

I exert my will.

A smile of sunshine and warmth graces the Goddess Bellas’ lips as she appears before me. Her snakeskin radiates multiple metallic colours each taking turns in the majority, a dazzling display.

“Thank you for granting me an audience.” She bows. Another surprise from her, the first is requesting an audience.

“I hope your thanks will grant me a minor advantage in any future negotiation.” I smirk and she releases a full-on belly laugh. Everything to do with Bellas, Goddess of Trade, is a negotiation.

“I appreciate your sense of humour, yet my offer to you is free of strings for now, more a promise of favourable consideration in the future.” She holds up one hand, while a glass of wine appears in the other. “If you find what I offer now of value, I will trust in your impeccable assessment and expect a suitable reward in the future.”

The Truth Rune blazes within my soul. Meaning to or not, she has divinely set our bargain.

“Continue.”

“Several of my worshippers have joined your followers in an expedition across the mountains. They are, oddly, Bear Kin. My Snake Kin, for example, would be entirely unsuitable. Their blood would freeze in their veins after the first snow flurry. Snake Kin are creatures for warmer climates, which until recently I didn’t realise how much this simple fact restricted them.” She swishes and slides on her tail and then raises a finger. “I have sent my Bear Kin followers Quests to assist the Kobolds if required and have promised them a great boon if they prove a significant difference.”

Now she needs to ask me for something. I materialise a glass of red wine in my hand and wait.

“I made, an arrangement with the System. This arrangement limits me, ensuring I will never challenge you for rulership and forces me to empower my followers instead. I would like to request a special reward for my Bear Kin favourites if I may be so bold.”

I take a sip of my wine and, against my better judgement, say, “Continue.”

“Would you permit them to tame and train a Griffon each?”

The glass of wine in my hand drops to the floor and shatters. Oh, I could have saved the glass. After all, I am the Ruler Goddess on her plane of existence, but I needed the dramatic effect.

“Only if you believe their help deserves such a reward. I ask on their behalf because they don’t know such creatures exist.”

“What of my worshippers, especially my prophets, who could spread the worship of me and our pantheon far, wide, and quickly from such steeds?”

She swishes the wine in her glass. “If the question is about numbers. Snake Kin, as you know, are egg breeders, so trading the services of a hatchery here or a hatchery there to devote to the creatures you wish to birth is entirely possible.”

I suppress my rising anger because after my debacle involving Cardinal Pex, who am I to criticize any plan? A sip from my fresh glass of wine allows me to collect my thoughts while rising from my throne distracts my lack of timely reply. I note the eager light within her shining eyes. Perhaps I should have pretended anger to add weight to my reply.

“My Snake Kin worshippers will heed the same call. I have fewer but sufficient. I thank you for your offer. Regarding the Bear Kin, if they truly deserve such a reward, I will see them rewarded with the opportunity to tame a Griffon each.” I return to my throne.

“In your closeness to the issue, you cannot see the true benefit of my offer.” I lift my head and find her pleading hands and enthusiastic face in front of me. “Where you would need to explain truthfully and in full all the nuances of such an arrangement, I could bargain with my followers. I will make a trade with the House, where the individual is, shall we say, less important? A subtle yet important difference.”

“My brood, when they hatch, would be unpredictable. You will lose followers.” Stating the truth is inescapable.

“Yes, but each House stands to gain much more from what many Matriarchs would consider acceptable losses. My offer to each House would require you to allocate one of your creatures as their symbolic beast.”

These creatures, my past forms, are of me, from me. Do I have the right to bind even one of them to servitude? Did I appreciate being bound to Zeus? To Azizos? This arrangement doesn’t sound motherly or respectful of them and their future existence. Apart from my grievous miscalculation assuming she would agree, is this what Cardinal Pex also objected to?

“To further sweeten the deal, Goddess, I would also suggest you examine the system, in particular, Dilia’s source of power, small increments yet many.”

I absently nod as I am still caught trying to determine what is right and what is wrong.

--- Ottar the Oaf, Initiate of Aphrodite POV

Allene Corser? The younger? Junior? Does the Priestess know? Her big words and formality are impressive for an adolescent. The Priestess will have a formidable adversary in a few years, for sure. Internally, though, I need to hold back my laughter. I gather my best serious look.

“Don’t you have an older sister on the Council already?” I deliberately raise an eyebrow as I have seen the Prophet Allene do.

“Humph. A seat warmer only, I assure you. She has religion, worship, and a God’s business to chase. I am born on these islands and only for these islands, I assure you. And father promised my place. Blood is blood.”

The children behind chant the same words three times, momentarily forgetting any fear or intimidation because of my presence, a huge Frost Giant lounging in their swimming hole within easy reach. What she says, though, is probably right or will become the truth. Allene the Prophet cannot remain in a place once she establishes the worship of Aphrodite. Another thing strikes me as odd, the children—these aren’t simply young ones playing and swimming together. Their keen eyes and huddling around Allene place her in the centre of a half-circle. Not unlike a Jarl, who, with warriors behind him, charges into battle.

She leads, and they follow.

“Can we strike a bargain?”

“I am prepared to listen. Mother says anything less is unworthy, as a Governor’s primary responsibility is to ensure the islands prospers and bargains are in our blood, so please continue.”

Erm right, I think to myself. A chat with her mother would be a treat, I am certain.

“Allow me to wallow until dusk and in exchange, I will work for a similar time on your behalf as long as my work doesn’t impose upon another or cause harm.”

Her finger taps her lips. She doesn’t even look behind her for support or advice. Who is this child?

“Why do you need to wallow? I don’t mean to intrude on any personal secrets or such, but asking questions to understand your need may lead to a win-win bargain beyond both of our original hopes.”

Who is this child?

“This is no real secret, so let me explain. I am a Frost Giant. Snow and ice are my natural environment. This island is too warm, more often too hot for me, hence me needing to wallow in this swimming hole.”

I almost said, ‘needing to wallow in your swimming hole’. Speaking such words in front of this child would, for sure, result in a tougher bargain! I am not called oaf, because of stupid. I am named oaf because on rare occasions and I admit only on rare occasions I can, without thinking, insult female Frost Giants. Fortunately, none live on this island and therefore I have no chance to be oaf-like here.

She smiles while nodding. “You were at the manor when I was there. I noticed you sweating and wondered. Now I know. Good. Very good. I propose a counter bargain. I will show you the way to snow and ice, which you will leave immediately to find. Once you have found your natural environment and recovered sufficiently, I would ask you for a morning of labour for every six days you spend there.”

I chuckle. “What if I never return?”

With a most serious face, she replies, “Your debt will accumulate until you do, never fear. Although, given you follow the Snake creature about like a lost puppy, I am certain you will return at her command, if not because of your fondness.”

Lost puppy? She mocks my devotion to worship. Who is this child? I fold my arms across my chest and grind my teeth. Then I remember, snow and ice…

“A morning of labour every twelve days,” I offer with as neutral a voice as I can. This child won’t draw my ire.

“Seven days.”

“Eleven days.”

“Eight days,” she retorts. I see where this is going, yet I must continue to play or she will short the agreement.

“Ten days.”

“Nine days.” She smiles.

“A morning of labour every nine days I remain in the snow and ice,” I confirm.

She walks into the water and reaches out her hand. I offer mine and she wraps her hand and tiny fingers around my pointing finger and with a nod of her head she retreats, exposing her back to me. Her followers’ eyes, with severe intensity, are upon me. Do they think a follower of Aphrodite would stab a child in the back?

Once on shore, she pivots and faces me. “When dressed, Sanfrid will show you the path you must take.”

Hands in the air, he strides towards his sister. “Allene! No, why me? You are the one who carries on about bargains and deals and dreams of being a Governor. I tell you I have had enough, no more. I am tired of following you around all this time, every moment of the day, let alone for six more years.”

Her followers separate from Sanfrid and gather in a new half-circle around Allene. Sanfrid stands alone. During the sibling negotiation, I decide to dress while keeping an ear out. I am keen to find snow, yet I expect a great deal of entertainment from this brother and sister debate, which would pain me to miss. While climbing to my feet, a wave of water fills the void I leave behind with a splash, which startles several of the children. The siblings ignore me while I find my arms and armour.

Her eyes flutter in his direction. “Now, Sanfrid, my loyal and, I admit, for the most part, long-suffering half-brother. You recall the bargain you struck with mother, which I reaffirmed on my twelfth birthday?”

A sulking nod is his reply.

“Mother and I will both ensure that upon my ascending the Governor’s chair we will keep our end of the bargain.” The radiant smile she flashes him would burn the flesh from my bones. “You are halfway. It would be such a shame to throw your just earnings away now, wouldn’t it?”

“But he is a Giant! One false step and that would be the end of me.”

I sneak a glance at Sanfrid, thinking he may cry, given the sulk in his voice. Unfortunately, not this time.

“He hasn’t stepped on anyone since he has been here, or his companions, which would have accompanied him for much longer. You underestimate his agility, dear brother, and look at how well he dons his armour and such. Warrior like. A veteran of many battles, I am certain.”

She waves him lower. He cranes his neck down until his face is level with hers. She then pecks each cheek and, with a finger, pushes up under his chin until he straightens. Grabbing his hand, she turns on one foot towards me, while taking a side look at him. “Is my big brave brother ready to do his sister’s bidding?”

He returns a fatalistic nod. She claps her hands and then hands on hips, inspects me. Oh no.

“Would you be able to carry my brother on your back, Mr Giant?”

“Ottar,” I reply. “Yes, it will ensure I don’t squish him, and we could probably travel faster.” I hold a finger up. “This would, of course, change our bargain. A morning of labour every eleven days.”

She slowly shakes her head while tut-tutting. “You are taking advantage of my brother, Mr Ottar Giant.”

I shrug. “Deal or no deal?”

She glances at her brother. He, I believe, is most assuredly the family’s weakest link, eldest or not.

“Deal.” She approaches me completely at ease, without even an inkling of fear in her eyes. Instead, she smoothly offers her hand. I kneel and extend my pointer finger, which she grasps and shakes, not that my finger moves at all. Does this explain the general attitude of the islanders to my presence? I am odd because I am tall, and my skin colour is different, yet given I haven’t been aggressive while on the island, I am therefore considered bargaining potential.

While down, I flick my head at Sanfrid, while calling him to me. He swallows and marches forward and then without further protest or emotion climbs onto my back. Is he now brave or pretending to be? I wonder?

---

We skirt the cliff face for a good while, and then a small hand pokes out from behind my head. “There!”

All I see are leaves and more leaves. As I slow, his arm flicks several times. “Push through the leaves, Mr Ottar Giant.”

I sweep the leaves aside and find what he meant me to find. I think. Three stones, side by side, holding back a mix of mud and rotting vegetation. Around either end of this stone barricade, the mud and rotting vegetation form a narrow smooth path. Set back from this first step is another set of three stones, and so on. Deep shallow steps lead into the crowding and overgrown vegetation. The building of the steps would be the effort of many, I am certain. Over many years, I would think. I take the first. My boot fits. My next foot, though, doesn’t need to lift much at all to take the next. Deep, shallow steps then.

He hits my shoulder; I think. Then he flicks my ear as confirmation.

“Don’t do that. Say what you want,” I growl. His body curls up on my back. With some effort, I grab his squirming and dodging body off my back and place him in front of me on the third step. This step, like others further up, is a home for dying vegetation. His body trembles. Is he too scared to run or too tired from his imagined terror?

“I don’t want to go up.”

I sense a bargain. “Tell me about your deal with your sister and I will release you and not tell your sister you left me at the stairs instead of fulfilling her bargain.”

Bringing a finger to his mouth, he chews on a fingernail. “You can’t tell anyone about what I am about to say. Anyone.”

I nod while trying to contain my wonder. What weird am I about to hear?

“You need to know the stairs end, short of the snowfields. Whoever carved them either died or gave up. But my sister still delivered her part of the bargain. She showed you the way to the snow and ice, the way. You must learn that they can hold bargains to the exact meaning of the words. Although between islanders, they usually accept the intent.”

With more emotion than I plan on, I reply, “That little conniving bitch.”

“Exactly. I have been listening to her and our mother for years and their chatter makes my head spin, yet knowing how they bargain allowed me to renegotiate my deal when my sister turned twelve, so some good came from it. For me, that is.”

“And your deal was?” I prompt.

“When she becomes a Governor, she will move amongst the various families as part of her duties. This will allow her to sniff out and assess a good match for me.” His creepy smile bookends his words.

Not what I thought and except for his smile, wouldn’t any family try to promote their own? “Yes,” I say, as he seems to need a reply to continue. There is more?

“Mother and Sister will ensure my wife is as near next in line for her family’s Governorship as possible. I can read and write, so will serve as an attendant scribe to my wife’s family and be married out of squaller for the rest of my life.”

His eyes light up, a mixture of anticipation and bliss. He is eighteen, maybe nineteen? Made this bargain a couple of years ago? I pat him gently on his shoulder with a couple of my fingers. Nothing he has said is beyond normal family dealings as far as I can tell, yet Frost Giant Clan politics aren’t near as complicated as they seem to be on this island.

“Well bargained, lad. Consider your guide duties done.” I grab him about the waist. He tenses up as I swing him from the third step to the ground. Releasing him, I take the third step and then a fourth.

“You promise to tell no one,” he calls after me.

I wave him away, seventh step, ninth step. They are shallow steps. The major obstacle is the thick green vegetation, which with each step I must push through. I contemplated swinging my axe, but oaf or not, I know as a certainty the effort would further deplete the meagre core of cold which remains around my heart. Occasionally, my height allows me to look through and forward over this abundant green. Above is another canopy of leaves from tall thin trees which try to reach the sky. This accounts for the lack of morning sun beating down upon me, at least.

---

After a quarter of a day, maybe less the steps begin a steep climb, the tall trees are behind me, and I no longer need to push through vegetation leaning over the steps. I pause and survey the way ahead and look back at my journey so far. There is something wrong, yet I can’t place a finger on the issue and while I believe a grave error lies ahead, I continue.

The steps are now carved from underlying stone and their lack of depth is a concern, as only the front of my boot fits. I could awkwardly sidestep up but would probably tangle my boots at the crossover. The sole positive is the height of the steps. The ascent is such a single step at a time is enough.

Shortly after continuing my step climb, I reach a smooth slab of rock, convenient certainly, as there are no chip marks to suggest any stair builder labour was required. I glance at the slab surface and compare it to the mountain face beside it. To me, it appears like a giant axe, larger than mine, has hewn off a side of the mountain and now the slice is underfoot. The builders got lucky as the slab provides a large and dry place to rest and in the past store supplies and equipment.

My eyes follow the steps up the sheer mountainside, close enough to be called a cliff by my reckoning. The vegetation thins, only the hardy vegetation, growing out of spite, typically alone and stumpy, is above. A breeze of cool to cold air descends, a tease of what awaits near the peak of the mountain. I breathe in deeply. In the shadow of a sinking afternoon sun, I am sure a human would need many layers of clothing. While not ice and snow, I am the most comfortable I have been in many days, if not weeks.

I pick an edge where my legs can hang over from the stone slab and plonk down, looking back. The village and harbour are in shadow and between here and there, a vast green. These stairs are in the valley of an extremely steep mountain. On either side are ridges that start somewhere in the green below, hidden I believe because the starting slope is gentle, but that is where these stairs should have begun. My climb has been to nowhere, and will always be to nowhere.

I chuckle. I wonder if my bargain still stands. What to do now? I remove my armour and my clothes, except for loin cloth. The cool to cold air seeps into my flesh, and I am in bliss. Should I stay overnight? No, the Cardinal will expect my return. My flesh absorbs all the cold on offer, relieving the strain on the core of cold around my heart. I don my clothes and armour to lock the cold in. I chuckle because I know most humans wear clothes to keep the warmth in.

As I hurry down the stairs, I pause and touch a leaf. I generate cold through my fingertips and immediately feel my heartache and cancel the attempt. A Frost Giant who can’t freeze water isn’t a Frost Giant, he is closer to death than life. My fingertip failure weighs heavily upon me. I must tell the Cardinal I can’t leave this island until I have frozen my core. To do so would court death.

--- First POV

Bucket One and I flight walk down the circular stairs and into a huge open room. Stone floor, walls, and roof. Each family huddles together, their eyes turning towards me. Bucket Two mouthing ‘at last’ while dropping her head and fly-walking to join Bucket One and I.

“There are no exits First, I have searched, all have searched,” whispers Bucket Two.

“She is correct First, Priestess of Aphrodite. For your tribe’s presence is invalid.”

“Invalid?”

“A dungeon has rules it must abide by and permits only small groups, one to seven in size. They must battle through and progress. Your presence is neither. Your numbers mean you aren’t a small group and even if you were to leave this room means you would need to battle my minions and avoid death by other means hoping to find an exit and freedom.”

“The rules trap us. What is to become of us?”

“This arrangement with your Goddess was to save your lives from certain death. She promises me this is temporary, but we must be patient.”

“I will go amongst my tribe and assure them.”

“A word of caution. Your tribe must remain in their family groups, yet be separated from other family groups. The system which enforces the rules is trying to classify your presence and I believe the family groups are being identified as adventuring groups, something which is valid. The number of them, though, is unusual. Fortunately, this room, when created, I named as an entrance, which according to the rules can hold several starting adventuring groups, although the number is usually lower than your numbers. To cut this explanation short, your tribe’s presence challenges many rules, but so far, the system sees them as either half-right or half-wrong in a non-enforceable way.”

Gladness enters my heart. “We are safe then until our Goddess rescues us?”

There is no immediate answer. I glance at Bucket One and Bucket Two, who return lost looks at me. They apparently can’t hear the Dungeon speak.

“The system learns. Adventuring groups don’t remain long in the entrance room. They enter and move on to explore. The system will note this eventually and before you ask, I don’t know the consequence. Now, since by system rules, no room can exist in isolation, I will tell you behind a secret door there is a corridor which leads out of this room and into the Dungeon proper.”

“I won’t reveal the exit unless directly asked. Unfortunately, I can’t lie to those faithful to Aphrodite.”

“Don’t fear, even if found, the height and width of the corridor will only allow vermin, not any of your tribe except for young children. Our greatest fear is your tribe will bunch along the walls to search. They must remain separate and in their adventurer groups.”

Her voice disappears from my head. Her last answer about children is a deep concern as the tribe numbers several small newborns and older. I leave Bucket One and Bucket Two to guard the circular stairs. None should return to the surface either.

I visit each family group to stress the importance of staying together and rationing their food and water. Remind them they are safe and warm because they believe in the Goddess, and they need to continue to pray. Their faith will carry them through. Patience is all we require for now.

---Svala, Adept of Aphrodite

“I am honoured, Priestess.” Happy tears fill my eyes, and the Priestess waves me away and out of her office.

I can command all the Initiates to assist me, yet the journey will be far from home and possibly dangerous. Volunteers, I will call for volunteers. What of the village? Most are at least Lay Members of Aphrodite and assisting on such a quest could hold them in a positive light if they petition the Goddess to become an Initiate. Yes, if they volunteer to help, the Goddess should reward them.

I exit the Temple using the rear doors and stride towards the kitchen and dining hall. This is the usual time of the evening meal, therefore most of the Temple’s servants should be present. I deliberately burst through the doors, drawing the maximum amount of attention.

“I need as many who are willing, to accompany me on a Quest sent to the Priestess in a visitation by our Goddess to rescue fellow worshipers from certain death!” The words tumble from my lips. I can’t hold back the excitement I feel. A Divine Quest! The first-ever for this Temple, I am certain.

Every seat bar a few slides back, the scraping like a foreboding which then erupts into a tremendous cheer raising the roof off the dining area, from the throats of female and male followers, Initiates and Lay members.

“I need to rally the village, as well.” I point out several of those standing. “Ask for volunteers. Explain we must save Kobolds from freezing. They are small creatures, perhaps as high as our hips, at least as tall as our knees, worshippers, of Aphrodite. They also are on a Quest for Aphrodite and to see them safely across the mountains after we save them is ours as well.”

Those who I nominated run off. The eyes of all others are upon me, and for a moment, I freeze. Everyone is looking at me. I swallow. “I need ideas. We who revel in ice and snow must somehow keep Kobolds who freeze in ice and snow, warm, fed and watered for an entire journey across the mountains. How can we do this?”

“Speed,” calls out one.

“Yes,” says another. “The fewer days on the mountain will mean fewer supplies are required.”

“Two, maybe three in a backpack?” offers a third.

“The journey will jostle and bruise them by the end of a day’s travel,” counters another.

Silence, not even a plate or utensil drops.

I say, “We will need backpacks for supplies for us and them, so scour the Temple and borrow from the village for as many as we can find.”

“Also, furs, all shapes and sizes for these Kobolds in case they have to walk,” says another from the back of the dining room.

“Those who cannot go, I respect your dedication to remain and care for our Temple. If you would, please prepare long-lasting food, for us and the Kobolds.”

“It will be my pleasure Adept Svala,” yells the Temple’s cook.

I know I blush slightly. “Thank you,” I reply, my voice low. I overhear several chuckles as they know he always treats me special at mealtimes. I have a suspicion, of course. Yet my calling to Aphrodite takes up all my time.