#elesh

It’s a tame river compared to the one back at home, but she hasn’t touched a big body of water for a long time now.

Sai senses him before she hears anything and she doesn’t turn around, just opens the bottle of whiskey and takes two big sips before tilting her head back to stare up into the night sky.

“What do you want? It’s my day off”, she says into the darkness without turning around.

“They’re holding a vigil for your dear friend Orla and you’re sitting out here alone”, the voice says. She doesn’t like it.

“Holding my own vigil”, she answers and holds up the whiskey. “What do you want?”

“Oh, you know. You so rarely leave this wretched hole of a whorehouse, it’s hard to check in.”

She snorts and takes another sip of whiskey.

“I got her”, he says and she narrows her eyes.

“Orla?”

“Hm.”

“Bullshit.”

“I assure you it’s not. She made a deal to save your son, in fact. One might think that that is your job.”

“Did you come here to give me parenting tips?”

He laughs quietly. It’s an unnerving sound but Sai cares too little about her own safety to be concerned.

“No. All hope is lost in that area.”

“Do you think that hurts my feelings?”

He laughs again.

“No. I know that you’re a heartless whore who doesn’t care about her sons’ well-being.”

Sai takes another big sip of whiskey. Answering him would only fuel him, she knows that much. So she stays silent and looks at the water.

“I was thinking about starting a little family collection, you know? The old wench, you, your sons.”

Sai snorts and tilts her head back until she can see him standing behind her just so he can see the grin on her face.

“Don’t know if you’ve actually met my sons. They’re the most stubborn people in the world. It runs in the family.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Kieran has so much potential. Do you know how much resentment he has for you?”

Sai lifts her head again and drinks more whiskey.

“I know pricks like you. You get off on chasing things you can’t have. It’s pathetic”, she says and turns around, gets up and spreads her arms.

“I’ve defied bigger things than you, bitch. Don’t think you scare me.”

He sneers at her and his mouth stretches a little too wide for a mere mortal. Sai doesn’t take her eyes off him as she lifts the bottle up to her mouth again.

“You didn’t defy anything, you ran away.”

“Same difference.”

“Just like your son ran away.”

“Good for him. It’s all about freedom and survival.”

“He ran because he killed someone.”

“Well, I’m sure they deserved it.”

“Aren’t you disappointed?”

“You can’t be disappointed if you don’t have any expectations.”

He regards her for a very long time but Sai refuses to look away. The sound of the water behind her is strangely calming.

“You won’t have me. I belong to no one, bitch. And neither do my sons.”

His grin grows even wider, but he also looks annoyed. Sai feels accomplished.

“Is that the famous defiance of the drow?”

“Yes. It’s a cultural heritage”, she spits and flips him off before turning around again. He gets closer to her and she braces herself, grips the bottle tighter and lowers her voice to a whisper. 

“If you touch me, I’ll kill you.”

He laughs loudly and it echoes through the night.

“You can’t kill me. And neither can your dead goddess.”

The whispering of the water grows louder in her ears as she turns her head over her shoulder to stare at him before turning her gaze back at the river.

“Try us”, she dares him and when no answer comes she knows that he’s gone. Sai raises the bottle to her lips and drains the rest of the alcohol before throwing the empty bottle into the river. The splash sounds unusually loud and for a split second she feels a pang of longing for the cool embrace of a river.

Archimandrite Elesh, Disfigured Nightmare

Orla never cared much about the gods, much like the gods often don’t care a lot about mortals. There may be exceptions, but Orla never bothered to look for them.

Too much to do. Too little time. Too many people to help.

Gods with all their powers who work so few miracles pale in comparison to the mortals she has watched over her lifetime, struggling and yet always performing miracles small and big all the same, even without divine powers.

He looks at her.

It took her a long time to understand that it’s his voice in her mind and not her own thoughts torturing her through the years.

Now she knows what he is. When he looks at her, she stares back at him.

May he get bored trying to intimidate her. She never cared for gods and Orla refuses to start that habit in her old age.

“Souls like yours are the most difficult to get, but they’re the tastiest to reap.”

Orla doesn’t answer him.

“I’ll get you in the end. You’re not incorruptible. No mortal is.”

Orla doesn’t say anything and continues her work. Then the letter arrives.

“Dear Orla,

we made it to Ulag and met Ovak. He gave me the key to your house and I know you won't like this but it's already decided so there's nothing you can do about it. We're going on an expedition to Khes' shrine into the Deadlands. If there's any useful information you're willing to share I would very much appreciate it.

Kieran”

The presence in her room pries into her head the second she finishes reading the words and processes their meaning.

“He’s going to die, you know. I don’t even think he cares if he dies or not. Hmm, his soul would be so easy to get. There’s so much resentment and--”

Orla stands up.

She’s taller than he is, way taller. For a second he actually blinks and takes a step back when he sees the look on her face, as if just for a second he forgot that he is a god and she is just an old, mortal woman.

“What do you want?”, she asks. He laughs and it’s one of the most unpleasant sounds Orla has ever heard.

“Your soul, you dumb wench, haven’t you liste--”

“Get me there and give me your word that you will leave his soul alone.”

“Hmm...”

“He is not for you. If you tarnish his soul in any way, the deal is off.”

“You would give your soul? Your soul, for that maggot of a--”

”Don’t speak about my son that way. Deal or no deal?”

He cocks his head left and right, as if he is considering it. Then a grin splits his face in an unnatural way and he nods.

“Give me a minute to sort out my things”, she says calmly, turns her gaze away from his grin and sits down at her desk and starts writing her answer to Kieran. Then writes a letter to Finn. She leaves some general instructions. She writes small notes to Tiva and Ovak.

She supposes at her age she should written notes like this already. Orla wonders what happens to her shadow twins if her soul belongs to an evil god. But it is irrelevant to think about that now.

Kieran will not die.

She gives the bird who brought her the letter her answer to Kieran.

As she gets up and lies down on her bed she thinks about an old lady in the neighborhood who invited all her family and friends and neighbors on a warm summer night last year and made food for all of them, even though she didn’t have much money.

The next morning, she was found dead in her bed with a smile on her face.

Orla looks up at the looming shadow of the god she will not name and he reaches out a hand.

There is not a second of hesitation in her heart as she grabs his pale fingers and there is just a moment of stillness before her soul is yanked out of her body, her physical form lying discarded on the bed like an empty shell. Orla looks down on herself and checks her transparent, blue fingers.

Archimandrite Elesh