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“Maybe he headed towards the cliffs to…”
Tempest’s voice trailed off as the door burst open. She turned and tensed as two men walked in, wearing the red and black uniform and swords of Vesper’s guards. One carried a letter sealed with Vesper’s stamp while the other held a necklace with a small key.
Both bowed as they approached Tempest. “Goddess, we have been expecting you.”
Puzzled, Tempest waited for them to rise and continue.
Hand outstretched, the man with the letter continued, “Our master is out and will be for some time, but he left these in our care for when you returned.”
She took the items and watched as the two men bowed again and retreated, leaving Tempest and Aiden alone again.
“What is it?”
Tempest shrugged as she looked at the key. Something about it was familiar, but she couldn’t determine why, exactly. She looped the necklace over her head and cracked the wax seal on the letter.
Tempest,
I am sure you are confused, and I’m afraid I can’t explain everything just yet. I’m glad you are safe and have reconnected with Aiden. By now, you’ve discovered who he really is, as well as what has happened in the land of the gods.
When Aiden first came to me wanting a mortal trial, I refused. The land of the dead cannot be left unguarded. If another god gained control over it, it would tip the scales of power. Any god who is willing to do that is not one I can let be in power.
Strange things are happening, though, and Aiden was convinced the land of the dead was being targeted. Because he had not done a mortal trial for much longer than the other gods, he was afraid he would be too weak to stop them. I agreed to send him secretly and stand guard for him over his domain. I’ve left his true name and a loophole in his trial in case things went awry so you two would be reconnected. I only hope he is not an infant when the two of you meet.
Soon after he left, I was called to a mortal trial of my own. When I return, I will explain myself to you both and face the consequences, but know it was not a decision I took lightly.
Before you left the land of the gods, you entrusted me with something and made me swear to protect it with my life until you returned. You had me clear all memory of it from your mind. I have brought it with me to my mortal trial so it will stay safe, but left the key to open it with my men to protect it from any unexpected mishaps.
You are the goddess of the broken, and our home is broken. If you are reading this, it means things have gone wrong in ways I saw but hoped would never happen. Find it in your heart to forgive those who deserve it and reclaim your throne.
I need you. Aiden needs you. Both the lands of the gods and mortals need you.
Your Friend,
Vesper
Aiden’s voice cut through Tempest’s thoughts. “What does it say?”
She closed the letter and tucked it in her pocket. “He’s gone and can’t be of any help to us.”
“What do we do?”
“We find Kirata.”
Laughter and music filled Tempest’s ears as she approached Amais’s home. The god of love threw the best parties. His temple was always filled with music and laughter. It was a contrast to the somber atmosphere of some of the other temples, and Tempest couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy. She quickly pushed the feeling aside; she had no time for such things.
“Why are we here?” Aiden asked, looking around at the revelers.
“I made a promise to someone,” Tempest replied, her eyes scanning the crowd. “Keep your head down. Mortals are not welcome in this realm. I want to get in and get out without causing a fuss.”
The two entered the gate and faced the assembly of gods and god-touched beings. It was an ocean of color and movement as gowns swirled and servers carried trays of food and drink. Music played in the background, masking the noise of the crowd with a fast beat, the synergy of the rhythm reminiscent of excitement and desire.
Tempest scanned the crowd for the chief gods. She found Ruyah, goddess of sleep and dreams, leaning against a column with a glass of wine in hand as she gazed indifferently at the group surrounding a table near her. Her white hair, brows, and lashes were as pale as her personality.
Tynan, god of chaos and luck, sat at a table with Bramble, goddess of fertility and harvest, and Septimus, god of luck, arguing with golden chalices in hand. If gods had parents, one would assume those three were siblings. Their ink black hair, pale skin, and rosy lips were eerily similar. Even from a distance, Tempest could see not much had changed among them in the years she’d been gone. She could almost hear their argument—Tynan complaining that he was also a god of luck and should receive due reverence, and the other two accusing him of being only bad luck and not requiring it; after all, he was the god of chaos. In truth, Tynan used his luck much more frequently than Septimus. He truly was more powerful; he was just unable to control what kind of luck he gave. It frustrated him to no end.
Tempest turned her attention back to the crowd, but she didn’t see Amias anywhere. She nodded toward a building and led Aiden through the crowd towards it.
It was a radiant shrine, lavishly decorated with swirls of lily and daffodil and gilded with ivy. The floors were as red as a bleeding heart, and statues lined the walls, lit by flickering torches. One in particular caught Tempest’s eye. In it, Amias was depicted in garb the colors of cornflower and blood, an image of herself clinging to his leg.
