//general tws for this series: slavery, abuse, conditioning, implied noncon.//
Rena never expected to see Caleon again, a bully of a prince who terrorized her when they were children. But when she crosses paths with him while visiting another city, she hardly recognizes the broken man he's become.
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The Khanh sisters hunt monsters. When they capture a polymorphed dragon, one of the rarest and most dangerous creatures out there, they decide to learn all they can about the elusive species.
tw: violence, guns, torture in the name of science
Sun and Glass
Status: Complete
Rena never expected to see Caleon again, a bully of a prince who terrorized her when they were children. But when she crosses paths with him while visiting another city, she hardly recognizes the broken man he's become.
tw: slavery, violence, beatings, brief references to noncon, brief references to whump of a minor
Never
Status: Complete
A different take on Captain Hook, how he lost his hand, and his history with Peter.
tw: torture, drugging, some graphic descriptions
Penumbra
Status: In-Progress
The Shadow King has fallen... Now what should be done with him?
She knew his eyes. She was sure of it. The last time she'd seen him, he'd been a tyrant of a child. Though more than a decade had passed, Rena knew she wasn't mistaken. The gaunt, fearful man before her was no other than Prince Caelon.
So that's what became of you, Rena thought, watching him hurry to remove her bags from the carriage, his eyes locked on the ground. She remembered being so scared of him when she was what, ten years old? Now she almost wanted to laugh at the memory. The bully had gotten what was coming to him, it seemed.
"Lady Rena," a voice said pleasantly. She looked up to see a man making his way towards her from the castle entrance. He was dressed in a manner that was simple but elegant, with sharp facial features.
"Lord Trisk, I presume?" she said, offering a slight curtsey. "I come on behalf of Lord Adelard, regarding a business arrangement."
Trisk waved a hand. "We'll save the dull stuff for dinner. For now, let me show you to your room."
"I'd thank you for that," Rena said, truthfully. It had been a few days' journey, and while she loved the freedom of travel, it wore her out. She cast a glance back at Caelon, who had paused in his efforts the moment Lord Trisk made himself known and was standing silently.
"Back to work," Trisk snapped, and Rena swore she saw the former prince flinch.
"Is he..?" she began.
"Useless, is what he is, " the lord replied, starting towards the door to the castle. "The seller swore he'd do the work of ten, but he barely makes up for the space he takes up as one."
Right. It was easy to forget that some of the other kingdoms still kept slaves. Still, if she hoped to pursue a career in diplomacy, Rena knew she'd better respect the practitioners, even if she couldn't quite stomach the practice.
"From whom did you acquire him?" Rena asked.
"Just a pair of traders. Can't even remember their names. He was pretty enough to catch my eye, and looked strong enough to work, but…" he shrugged. "You see what I ended up with."
"Does he have a name?"
Trisk shrugged again. "Traders called him Six. There were ten or so slaves in their lot, I think that's just how they sort 'em. I was thinking of calling him Sunny, 'cause of the hair. What do you think?"
"Hm? Oh, yes. Of course," Rena said absently. So not even Caelon's master knew he had been a prince. She wondered what series of events had turned him from that arrogant child to a nameless slave. She almost felt a touch a pity for the man. Almost.
A crashing noise sounded behind her, and Rena spun around. Caleon had crumpled under her luggage, it seemed, and one of the trunks had split open, spilling her clothing across the stone floor. The man was bent over it, frantically trying to throw everything back where it belonged.
"Damn the fool," Lord Trisk said with a huff, breaking out in a stride towards Caleon. The other man froze as his master reached him, sitting with his shoulders hunched and his head bowed. Without warning, Trisk backhanded him with enough force to snap his head to the side. Without much more than a small yelp, Caelon returned to his hunched, unmoving position as Trisk spoke in a hushed, angry voice above him.
"Made a fool of me…disrespect my guest… pay for this later…"
Rena only caught a few words, but they were enough. She waited, feeling a bit awkward, until Trisk finished his tirade and rejoined her.
"You see? This is exactly the sort of behavior I meant."
"With all due respect my lord, it didn't seem to be his fault," Rena said. "Accidents happen."
"Accidents are the result of a careless individual. I'll beat that lesson into him a hundred times if I have to."
Once again, Rena felt the twang of pity for Caelon. This time, she didn't try to deny it.
They reached the room she was to stay in, a spacious, well-furnished suite, without any further delay. Trisk gave her a time for dinner, told her he'd send someone to fetch her, and promptly walked away. She watched him go with more disdain than she'd previously thought possible to accrue in such a short time.
Caelon appeared not long afterwards, Rena's things balanced in his arms. She moved to take them from him, and the man staggered backwards so suddenly that he almost sent them crashing to the floor all over again.
He hurriedly set the baggage down. "A-apologies, m'lady," he murmured, ducking his head and making for the door.
"Wait," Rena said. He froze in place at her command, holding so perfectly still she wondered if he was even breathing. Rena walked around so that she was facing him. She'd been sure it was him earlier, but the difference in attitude was so drastic she found herself doubting. His head was bowed, shaggy blond hair all but obscuring his face.
"Look at me," Rena said. The man's breath hitched, almost imperceptibly, and he raised his head to meet her eyes, looking at her in such a way that she could tell he was fighting to not drop his gaze back to the ground.
It was as she'd thought when she'd first seen him. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his face was too thin to be healthy, and every ounce of arrogance was gone, but it was unmistakeably him.
"M-my lady, I'm sorry. That trunk--"
"Oh, none of that," Rena said, waving her hand to dismiss it then immediately regretting the action as Caelon flinched. She sighed.
"What's your name?"
The question seemed to catch him off-guard. "I... Driv-- no, no, no, it's Six now, isn't it? It's… he hasn't told me yet, I'm sorry, I--"
"Calm down," Rena said, her voice coming out a little more forceful than she'd intended. Caelon's jaw snapped shut, and he… was he trembling?
"Caelon," she said, forcing her voice to come out soft and low. "Do you know who I am?"
He shook his head, a sharp, jerking motion. "My lady, I… I can't. I'm sorry, I don't know. I don't know anything, I know I'm not good for anything, please--"
"It's fine," Rena said. "You can go."
He nodded once, then practically bolted for the door. Rena felt her stomach twist as she watched him go. He was, undeniably, Prince Caleon.
They came to an inn just as the sun was ducking under the horizon. The previous evening, they'd stopped for the night at a farm, paying the farmer for a bed in the loft. Caelon had been alright through that, but an inn would be much busier, and Rena wasn't sure how he'd do around crowds of people.
It wasn't as if Trisk kept him in isolation. Maybe he'd served at parties before and this was nothing new to him? Asking him was pointless, of course. He responded to nearly every question with, 'if it pleases you, Rena'. Figuring out how he really felt was going to take a long time.
Short of making him cry again, she thought with a pang of guilt.
The carriage came to a halt, and Rena hopped out to speak with the driver and give him coin for his own room and meal. Then she went back for Caelon.
"Hey," she said, then waited for him to lift his head a little. "We're staying the night here, okay? It's a little crowded, but I can pay for an individual room so it shouldn't be too bad."
"As it pleases you, Rena."
She had the feeling he'd give the same answer if she told him to throw himself off a cliff. But she smiled anyway.
"Follow me, then."
Before they'd left Trisk's, she'd outfitted him with one of her nightshirts and a spare travel cloak. Both fell a little short on him, but he was thin enough that it wasn't too obvious he wore borrowed clothes. He wouldn't have been able to fit into her boots, but her driver had been courteous enough to lend Caelon a pair of his own. The result left Caelon looking almost normal, if you could ignore the ever-present fear in his eyes. Still, Rena hoped it was enough to help him blend in. The last thing she wanted was strangers scaring him.
She stepped into the warm firelight of the inn, Caelon right behind her. Most of the tables were occupied, but a pair of empty chairs at the bar top caught her eye, and she moved to claim them. Caelon took his seat beside her carefully, almost like he was afraid it would crumble beneath him.
Rena looked away from him and caught the bartender's eye, sliding a hold coin across the bar and holding up two fingers. The man grunted and stepped closer.
"Y'want ale too? Or just some dinner?"
She glanced sideways at Caleon. "Just the food. We'll be needing a room as well. Got one to spare?"
"Be another gold for the room. We're all but booked."
"Done," she said, tossing him the coin.
"Food'll be out soon." The bartender turned back to the rest of his customers.
The inn wasn't the noisiest she'd stayed in, but it was still pretty loud. The noise didn't seem to bother Caleon, and a careful look told her his disposition hadn't changed much. So at least he wasn't obviously uncomfortable…
A server set two bowls of stew in front of her, and she murmured a quick thanks, then slid a bowl over to Caelon.
"Eat up," she said. A chuckle came from the other side of him.
"You gonna let her buy the drinks too?" a brawny man with a dark beard slapped Caelon's shoulder, and the blond man froze. "A real man don't let a woman pay for dinner."
Caelon, characteristically, did not respond, only kept his eyes locked on the wooden bar top. Rena cleared her throat.
"Sorry for the confusion, sir," she said, forcing a bright smile. "My cousin is a newcomer to this land. He's not aware of the customs."
The man swung his arm around Caelon's shoulders in an overly-friendly gesture. "Well no time like the present to teach him--"
"Thank you, but I think he'll be fine," Rena cut in. "If you'd be so kind as to leave us to our dinner?"
The bearded man huffed, but removed his arm, turning back to his own bowl with a muttered word.
"Are you alright?" she asked Caelon, who hadn't moved an inch.
"I… fine, my-- Rena."
"Okay. Go on and eat. It's pretty good," she said, holding off on her own food until he picked up the spoon and took a bite.
"Some people are bad at personal space, but they don't usually mean you harm," she said in a low voice. "But if someone is making you uncomfortable, just let me know, okay? I won't let anyone hurt you."
Caelon nodded. "Thank you," he said in a soft voice.
"Anytime."
They finished their food without further interruption, making their way upstairs shortly after. The room provided was tiny but clean, with a single wide bed taking up most of the space.
Rena tapped her fingers on her arm. The bed was certainly large enough that they'd both have plenty of space, but she wasn't sure how comfortable Caelon would feel.
"Would you like me to sleep on the floor again, Rena?" he asked, quiet beside her.
"Not really..." she replied. "It'll be too cold. I don't think you'll get much rest."
"I've done it before," he offered, but she shook her head.
"We can share the bed. I'll take one side, you take the other, okay?"
After a moment, he nodded. "O-okay."
She pressed her lips together, trying to think of something that might ease his fear a bit.
"Caelon? What side do you want to sleep on? Left or right?"
He looked up at her. "What side-- um, whichever you choose for me, Rena."
"I'd like you to choose," she said patiently. "Neither is wrong, but it's up to you."
"I…" he trailed off, and for a long moment, she thought he wouldn't continue. Then, "I will sleep on the left side."
Rena smiled at him. "And I'll sleep on the right. Thank you for choosing."
She sat on her designated side. Baby steps. Maybe next time she offered him a choice, he wouldn't hesitate.
"I'm going to sleep, okay? Make sure you get some rest." She pulled the blanket over herself and turned her back to him.
It was slow at first. Caelon was like a ghost haunting her home; pale and silent, always hovering nearby as if he wasn't sure what to do. Like if he interacted with the world around him, it'd all just melt away.
It took two weeks of reassurance before he'd eat without being given permission, and she knew it would take more time than that for him to be comfortable just existing without following some order or another.
But Rena was willing to be patient.
She discovered quickly that routine was her friend; if Caelon knew what to expect in a day, he seemed less afraid, less likely to panic and frantically apologize for a perceived mistake. Days like that were okay though. It let her show him it was okay to mess up.
In the morning, she'd cook breakfast while Caelon set the table. (They cleaned the kitchen together afterwards.)
After the morning meal, Rena would work in her office for a few hours while he read. (He'd spent the first weeks hovering near her desk. The first time she offered him a book, he seemed afraid that it was some kind of trap. But she'd seen the way his eyes lit up.)
Afternoons were for meetings, in her own apartment or her clients'. (She'd always let him know in the morning. He seemed to enjoy the walks through town.)
And evenings were dinner and conversation between them. (After a little gentle prodding, she'd found that he enjoyed cooking. They took turns with the evening meal after that.)
Day after day, Rena fell into step and so did he. The tension poured out of him slower than molasses, but it was pouring out. Time left him more ready for choices, and Rena made sure to give him plenty of room to choose. She made sure to ask him again, at least once a week, if he was happy. If he wanted to stay. He said yes every time, and every time she believed that he meant it a little bit more.
As days turned to weeks, silence turned to quiet conversation turned to cautious but unprompted questions. Rena would answer whatever Caelon asked, then ask him a question in turn. She was careful to avoid the topic of his past, so it came as a surprise to her when he brought it up on his own.
He didn't say a lot, but Rena listened intently and made it clear she was willing to hear more. That much seemed important.
They had a system between them, and somehow it worked. Nothing was perfect, but it was good. It was safe.
And certainly, the healing path Caelon would have to walk was a slow one. A long one. But he walked it all the same. And Rena was happy to keep him company on the journey.
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cw: slavery, captivity, disjointed mindset, very vague noncon reference
His new master names him Fawn and sticks him in a cell and it's cold and it's cold and it's cold. When he has the strength to stand, the little barred window tells him that the trees have lost their leaves already. Some mornings there's frost on the bars. Some mornings there's frost on his blanket.
New Master had seen him on the stage and wanted more than one night in his company.
(and had enough gold to persuade the troupe, and soon he was away from the colorful tents)
But why would new master pay so much for him only to leave him here?
(he was tired of being touched, but was freezing to death better?)
He could guess at intentions. He knew what he'd been bought for, had been expecting it as soon as Master pulled him stumbling into the keep
(but instead of following up the stairs he was taken down down down to where it was always cold)
He can't say how many days have passed. He spends his time huddled under a blanket, shivering. Counting the stones in the walls and the floor and the ceiling. Trying not to think.
76, 77, 78,
(I used to be a prince)
79, 80, 81
(I don't deserve this)
He eats whenever the faceless guard brings in a bowl of stew
(even that is barely lukewarm; he still holds the bowl tightly in his hands, trying to absorb any heat)
And he sleeps when darkness takes hold of the cell. Or, he tries to
(his dreams are hands that hurt and hands that grab. All of them made of ice)
But one morning, the faceless guard comes down the steps not with soup, but with keys. The guard unlocks the cell, and hauls his shaking body to its feet, and leads him up the steps
(his legs give out once, halfway up, but the guard does not kick him. The guard is kind)
When the door at the top of the stairs is unlocked, the warm air that hits him almost makes him cry with joy. There are more stairs, and another door, this one heavy wood with ornate carvings
(he remembers a door to his father's study, one much grander than this)
And the door swings open to reveal a grand bedroom, a roaring fire, a bed with many furs--
"My lord. Shall I run him a bath?"
"No," says a voice from the bed. A figure pushes itself up, stands. "I'll take care of it. Thank you, Lorens."
The door closes behind him and the man steps closer and he can see now that's it's his master.
Master says nothing, only pulls his still-shivering body into him, and it's warm. Blissfully warm. He nuzzles into his master's neck with a small whine as the man scoops him up and carries him toward the bed.
"I thought I'd like you better like this. Did you like the cell, my Fawn?"
He shakes his head against his master's chest. He's stopped shivering at last, his muscles aching from the constant tension.
"It's not pleasant this time of year, hm? Well, not to worry. You can sleep here with me instead, if you ask nicely."
Fawn is too busy drinking in the warmth to hear the first time. He's jarred back to the present when Master throws him onto the bed.
"Can you ask nicely, Fawn?" he says, voice more stern this time.
"Y-yes," he looks up with wide eyes. "May I stay with you?" then adds, "Please?"
(knew this would happen, don't think, just do as you're told)
Master brushes hair out of Fawn's face. "Ask one more time."
Fawn nods. "M-may I please sleep here, with-with you?"
"Of course," Master says. "And if you make me happy, you never have to go back to the cell again, do you understand?"
(don't talk to me like I'm a child, you pompous--)
"I understand," Fawn says, and Master climbs onto the bed, looming over him, hands placed at either side of his head
(just like before just like before you knew this was coming just do what you're told--)
"Good."
And as his hands trace their way down his chest, Fawn counts himself lucky that they're warm.
They finished the deal the next morning. Details were a tad crude--neither of them were in the mood to drag things out--but the requirements were met. Caelon spent the duration of the meeting sleeping in Rena's room.
Despite having planned to stay the week and sightsee, Rena elected to cut her trip to Porta short. Whatever she was going to do about Caleon, she'd prefer to do it far away from Lord Trisk.
Not an hour after the required documents had been signed, Rena was standing in front of her carriage, ready to leave. Caelon sat straight-backed inside, silent and unmoving as ever. He had no belongings to carry with him. She'd have to fix that later.
As much as Rena wanted to just get on the road, final farewells were customary, and she'd already bent enough rules for one journey.
She shook Trisk's hand, thanking him as cordially as she could manage for his hospitality. He responded with the expected pleasantries… and handed her a small wooden box.
"Since you have such a fondness for my broken things," he said.
Rena tried to hide her puzzlement as she lifted the lid. Inside was the shattered deer, its fragments nestled atop a folded piece of linen.
"I hope you enjoy the time you take attempting to paste it back together. Safe travels, Lady Rena."
Home was three days away by carriage, but the trip felt much longer than that. En route to Porta, Rena had been able to read, take notes, compose letters, and sketch some of the scenery outside her window. Now that Caelon was her guest, it felt… well, it felt rude to ignore him in favor of her own comfort. She was going to have to talk to him sooner or later, to try and get him to trust her. Might as well do it on a three day carriage ride.
She cleared her throat. "So…" Where to even begin? "What would you like me to call you?"
His head remained bowed, but after a moment, he answered,
"You may call me whatever pleases you, Mistress."
Rena sighed. She really shouldn't be surprised at that one. "Isn't there a name you like?"
"I… I accept whatever name you choose for me."
Okay, maybe a different approach? "I'm not going to choose your name," she said.
"As it pleases you. I have been nameless before."
Rena frowned. If making him realize he could choose his own name was this difficult, how hard was the road ahead? "That's not what I meant," she said, then continued carefully. "It would… please me if you chose your own name. A name that you liked."
He lifted his head a little at that, eyes peeking out through a curtain of blond hair. "I… I don't know, I--"
She realized he was searching her face again, trying to figure out what the right answer was. His eyes dropped back to the floor.
"I-I will take no name then." A quick, darting glance up, looking for her reaction.
"If you have no name, what am I to call you if I want to get your attention?" she pressed.
"Slave." His answer came out matter-of-fact, like he didn't even consider another option.
Rena leaned back in her seat. How could a person become so… broken? If only she'd known the extent of the damage, she could've--
Could've what? Left him behind? Abandoned him to Trisk's violent whims? No, one way or another, Caelon would've been coming back with her. But if she'd known, maybe she'd be a little better prepared for what she was getting herself into.
She glanced across the carriage. His head was bowed again, perhaps he'd taken her silence for approval.
"I'm not going to call you 'slave'," she said. "And you don't deserve to be nameless."
"F-forgive me, Mistress, I didn't realize you would be displeased--"
"No, it isn't that," she said, keeping her voice very even. "You've done nothing wrong, alright?"
He gave a small nod, and she continued.
"How do you feel about the name 'Caelon'? Do you like it?" She knew it was a stupid question.
"Do… do you like it, Mistress?"
She forced a smile. "I do like it, but it's your choice if you'd like to take it as your name or not."
"I-If my Mistress likes it, it will be my name," he said carefully.
She sighed. She couldn't exactly call this progress, but with any luck, he'd get used to making his own choices over time. All she had to do was give him constant opportunities.
"And one more thing," she said. "Don't call me Mistress. Call me Rena."
Rena paced back and forth in Lord Trisk's library. Trisk had been gracious enough to give her time to prepare when he had seen how nervous she was, but even with access to his collection of books, she wasn't sure it would be enough. She stopped for a moment, leaning against the windowsill and cursing herself for the hundredth time.
Riddles. Why had she agreed to riddles? If she'd only taken better control of the conversation, she could've convinced Trisk to play at something else. Or if she'd thought quicker, she could've offered to trade her horse for Caelon. Now she was going to lose them both.
No, don't think like that. You have to try.
Rena sighed, letting her gaze drift out the window. Searching Trisk's library for a suitable riddle would be futile. Even if she could find something, chances were the lord already knew its answer. She'd have to rely on what she already knew, but what did she know other than the little rhymes meant for children?
It doesn't matter how childish they are, she told herself. You made this bet, now you have to try. For Caelon. Or at least for the hollow man Caelon has become.
Maybe... Maybe she could come up with her own riddle? But surely that was out of the question. She had a hard enough time solving them. She rested her forehead against the cool glass of the window in defeat.
The door to the library swung open, and she stood up abruptly. Trisk entered, a newspaper tucked under his arm. He nodded to her with a look on his face that verged on smug. "Any luck, my lady?"
Rena forced a smile. "Who said anything about luck?"
That brought a wry chuckle out of Trisk. He settled in one of the plush armchairs and began reading the paper. Behind him, the door opened once more, far more slowly, and Caelon entered the room, a dusting rag in hand. He glanced at Trisk, almost apologetically, and the lord huffed.
"Don't look at me, get to it."
The man nodded, and set about to dusting the shelves. Rena wondered if it was coincidence that brought them in here, or if Trisk was attempting to intimidate her. Reminding her what was at stake.
She left her spot at the window and sat across from Trisk. He looked up from his paper.
"Having trouble?"
"Taking a break," she replied, picking up an illustrated book on birds and thumbing through it. She wouldn't be able to do much thinking with the two nearby, but she wasn't about to get up and leave just because Trisk was here.
"Found yourself a nice picture book, I see," Trisk said with a smirk, turning the page of his newspaper. "It's a wonder you agreed to the game of riddles at all--"
Without thinking, Rena snapped the book shut. Caelon flinched at the noise, knocking over something---a glass deer, maybe? Rena barely caught a glimpse of it before it hit the ground and shattered.
Trisk was on his feet in a second, his face already turning a shade of red. "You worthless little wretch--"
"My lord!" Rena cried, on her feet just as quick. "Please, leave him be, it was my fault, I startled him--"
He fixed his glare on her for a half second. "He doesn't belong to you yet, Lady Rena. I'll do what I like with him." And with that, he was striding across the room. He grabbed Caelon roughly by the arm, hauled him halfway to his feet--
"Then let's play the game now!" Rena said, frantic. Trisk looked back at her, releasing Caelon. The man fell to the ground and stayed there, head bent low.
"Now?" Trisk said. "But dear lady, didn't you ask for time to prepare?" He was smiling.
"I changed my mind," Rena said, meeting his eyes. "I'm ready."
"If you insist."
Rena felt relief spread though her, a feeling that came to a bitter stop as Trisk left the room, coming back a second later with a guard.
".. you'll take him downstairs and punish him as you see fit."
"Yes, my lord."
Rena grit her teeth. "You can't--"
"Don't tell me what I can and can't do in my own house," Trisk said, returning to his place across from her. "Unless you win, that slave is my property." He smiled at her. "I didn't take you for the rash type, Lady Rena. Perhaps I should thank you already for my new horse."
Rena smiled back at him. It felt more like baring her teeth. "Don't thank me just yet." Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that he was right. By acting now, she may have given up on any chance of winning. And for what? Caelon's still being punished. Maybe worse.
"Then let's begin," Trisk said, folding his hands in front of him. "The rules are simple. First one to stump the other with a riddle wins the bet. I do hope you give me a challenge."
"I understand," Rena said. Behind the lord, the shards of the broken deer sat where they had fallen. She forced her gaze back onto Trisk and cleared her throat. "What… what rises and falls like the tide, and has funny-looking fish all inside?"
The lord snorted. "The kingdoms of Anthara," he said. "Too easy. Did you think I'd forgotten my time in grammar school?"
Rena tried to keep from flushing with embarrassment. That had been her hope, but the little rhyme that schoolchildren were taught when they learned the history of the realm was too common to forget.
"I'm starting them easy," she offered. "To warm up."
Trisk shook his head. "If you say so. Now… My hands have no fingers, my face gives no greeting, but still I will tell you when you're late for a meeting."
Rena said nothing for a moment, turning over the words in her head. She'd never been good at riddles, the double meanings always threw her off. Still, she had to try. "A… it's a clock, isn't it?"
Trisk grinned. "Well done. I would've been disappointed if you'd been stumped at the first round."
Rena tapped a finger on the table. "Alright… I have a club that doesn't swing, I have a heart that doesn't beat, I have a diamond that doesn't shine, and if you cut me, I won't bleed."
"That would be a deck of cards," Lord Trisk said almost immediately. "You do favor the children's riddles, don't you?"
This time, Rena did flush. "I suppose I do."
"My turn," Trisk said. "Eye of the goddess, bring the world light, guiding the tide and the sea. Guarding the woods in the dead of the night, and blinking too slowly to see."
Rena frowned. "Would you… can you say that again?"
Trisk smirked, repeating the riddle more slowly. Rena murmured the last line under her breath. She knew of many goddesses who were hailed as guardians, but there had to be hundreds of them. And the blinking? Were there any temple statues she'd heard of that blinked?
"I'll give you one more minute," said Trisk.
She was going about this all wrong. There was always a double meaning in riddles, she just had to figure out what part. Was the answer the stars, perhaps? The sun? No, the sun wasn't out at night, and what about the tide..?
"Five seconds--"
"The moon!" Rena blurted out. "It's the moon. It… it pulls the tides, and 'blinks' with its phases."
Trisk gave her a nod of approval. "I almost had you there."
"Almost," Rena said, taking a deep breath in an attempt to slow down her heartbeat. That had been too close. She had to find a way to stump him, and the riddles she knew weren't going to do the trick.
She glanced around the room, looking for something, anything, she could use.
"Okay," she said. "My turn.
"Broken pieces, all divided. With... with all the color trapped inside it; it beholds faithful voices... bright, and paints the floor with holy light."
"Hm…" Trisk said. "You said 'broken pieces'?"
Rena nodded, holding her breath.
"Broken pieces… all divided… I haven't heard this one before."
No, I bet you haven't.
"You said you wanted a challenge," Rena said.
"That I did." He said nothing for a long moment, then-- "It's an eye. An iris looks like broken pieces, and 'beholds' the things around it."
Rena felt a smile spreading across her face, wide and unstoppable. "No."
"No?" Trisk said.
"You're wrong," Rena said, standing up from the table. "I win."
"You… But you… Well, what was the answer then?" Trisk said, stumbling over his words.
"A window," Rena said with a grin. "A stained glass window."
