Β Β The agony which had flashed over their tattered countenance seemed to be noted by the other. This companion, should they decide to assist her, was an observant adversary. The pain they harbored could have been better hidden, yet it made no real matter if she retained the image of their visage as they grieved the life they once had. She could not even comprehend the weight by which they carried, but with such glimpses into their soul, perhaps she would learn. Doubt of her learning the true cost of power floated through their already crowded crown, splintering sections among their head as though everything was at risk of collapse. Years had been spent, crafting expert excuses to avoid meeting with rulers who shared her affinity for pissing on the Gods.Β
Β Β They had become somewhat known for their elusive nature, far more than other priests, for Zeean preferred not to deal with those consumed by lust for power. They were all insufferable, wasting the precious free time that they were granted by those above with ideas of grandeur and forceful requests. Her request had already shown her true colors, the nature that lay just beneath the surface, as she did not even consider what adding such a burden to Zeeanβs shoulders would do to the other - when the weight of the entire worldβs fate was already placed there. No, she had selfishly presumed to force her desires into unwilling palms, driving nails deep within the center and watching the ichor that spilled from them with delight. Her Fatherβs daughter. The words played in their head once more, but this time, it was the voice of her God that whispered into their ear.
Β Β She was rotten, eyes wrought with longing for a time where she would reign supreme, with little trace of thoughts of what consequences she might face. How one could look into the face of their expiring father and suspect nothing amiss, they did not know. For it seemed quite obvious that her father had not pleased their God Osiris, thus their life had been ripped from their frame with a ferocity and cruelness unlike most other passings. Eliana seemed opposed to admitting these truths to herself, among many others. She was not antithetical to the common man, rather the reflection of them.
Β Β βAhβ¦ Whether my words stem from belief or beatings, what matter does it make? It is the truth I must live, even if I do not wish so.β They began, eyes scanning the other for comprehension as they continued to speak. βPeople do not pity nor fear me, not truly. Why should they fear a being they have never seen the power of? They look upon me as a tool for their desires, something to be utilized and then disposed of when the time comes. It has happened in all my lives before and I expect such things will not change during this lifetime.β
Β Β Why should they expect a shift in the innate behavior of every frame which sat upon a throne? It was common, the desire and lust to prevail over every man, and it had been this way since the beginning of time. Men craved power and bathed in the crimson-soaked greed they could not unlearn. What did she offer to them which would be so different? Could she promise a light that her brother could not? These things would change, as Zeean would force the unlearning of them - even if it consumed them, tore them to shreds, and damned their soul to an endless eternity of wandering, they would see the rulers of this land cleansed.
Β Β Her next words rang past a tight tongue, lips parting only to allow the syllables to escape before returning to a thin line. They took note of the shift in her emotion and tone, the way her eyes seem to flash with something less than pleasant. She was clearly not comfortable admitting her faults in light of her brother, hungry to surpass him so that her name may be praised and not his.
Β Β βI must say, once more, that I pass no judgment. Whether your brother is deemed better by your God or no, is not of my concern. I live only to serve them, not to spread my own feelings.β They were experiencing difficulty in preventing their distaste for the girlβs affinity for ignorance, irritation rising in their throat like bile. Eliana dodged every word they offered, refusing to acknowledge what was spoken in exchange for what she believed to be more power breathed into her own verbiage. Yet, it merely showed them the immaturity which consumed her as though they were looking upon a child. For how many times did they have to tell her it was not their choice nor hers, if she were to gain more power? That it was not her will that Osiris desired to listen to? Her God was one of the cruelest, among the harshest Zeean had met with, and with her attitude, she was more likely to meet the hand of death than that of grace.
Β Β Zeeanβs feet came to a halt as frustration absconded their nose accompanied by a sharp-edged breath. βI have said it perhaps five times hence, it is not you or I who is to decide the will of the Gods. Whether Osiris believes your brother is enough light is up to them, not you. Your God is not your Father and shall not bend to your will, nor does your God obviously care of your blessings. If you can not learn to mature yourself in their presence, they will likely strike you down as though you are a lowly pest.β They stated, their tone calm despite the exasperation that was giving rise in their breast. βIf you do not practice your listening and consider what I tell you, there will be nothing I am able to do to assist you in your quest. Humble yourself, Princess, or you may find your brotherβs shadow extended over you for the rest of your life.β
Β Β It was true, they knew, that many avoided speech of Eliana in favor of her brother. He was far more willing to listen to their subjects and made deeper connections with others than she ever had. A more approachable man, he donned light and joy as panoply - something his father and sister seemed dead set against. It was known that rulers saw more success when they were well-loved rather than hated, yet sharpened people often avoided that truth as they refused to allow themselves to love in the first place. If Zeean was honest, they did not prefer the company of her brother either, as they saw the whole family as a mess which they did not wish to deal with. She was just another example of the issues they bred in their great land, with her hard head and lack of sufficient wit.
Β Β βWhy would I trust you? What have you ever done to gain that? Or should I bestow it upon you simply for your title?β They stated as their eyes pointed down at her much like daggers. βThat is another thing you must learn, the Gods care not for titles and neither do I. In fact, it is more often those with high power that betray me. Why should a commoner go against the Gods, they have nothing they desire but bread on their table and good mead. Rulers, on the other hand, seem to want more than their shareβ¦ alwaysβ¦β It had been something Zeean had taken note of during their studies, that those with more power seemed greedier than those who had none. A phenomenon that stifled the companionship they may have felt towards any with high status.Β
Β Β βOsiris will likely never give you the direct answer that you search for either, the Gods are quite cryptic, and often their messages that pass through me make little sense to those they are meant for. The truth is before your eyes, but whether you will accept it or not is your own choice. Do not blame your God for your familyβs faults.β
Β Β Her final instruction stung the pride that was so carefully tucked away from the surface. Though versed in formalities, they found it challenging to stomach her demands for much longer. Perhaps she had misunderstood the words they spoke when her request was first posed, as they did not truly have any reason to assist her and may deny her practice at any moment they chose. βDo not demand things of me, I am not your subject.β They stated, dusting off their cloak before providing her with another glance.Β
Β Β βYou would do well to learn to respect me, for whether you like it or not, I shall always be above youβ¦. Osiris will never directly speak to you besides, you are far too below them for their time. Even if they did send you a message, I doubt you speak the language of the Gods, or am I mistaken? Are you the true Priest and I a pretender? Should I allow you such indulgences of power when you cannot even manage to listen to the few words I have spoken?β There was a pause in their speech, allowing another puff of air to escape their parted lips.
Β Β βThe Gods are not a game, Princess, as much as you may think they are. I have watched them produce endless carnage, leaving the corpses of children, not past their tenth name day, at the feet of their shrines on the holy islands. I have fought for their blessing, lost everything, and devoted my life to them. Never again presume to know more of them than I, or I shall request they doom you to have no power at allβ¦.β It was a threat of sorts, but more a warning. Zeean grew tired of the games they played at court, all of them, with the way they spit their honeyed words in their direction.
Β Β βThose are your first lessons. Approach me again once youβve taken a more humble and earnest path toward power. Do not ever try to waste my time again.β They finished, staring down at the small woman as though she was nothing more than a common peasant. How could she have expected to bend their will to her desires? Was she so sure of herself and her skills in manipulation that she would attempt to belittle what they knew in order to waver their confidence?
Β Β Zeean did not fear her nor her brother, or any ruler for that matter. It was something they acquired after the trials; when you are made to face death as a child, facing it later in life no longer seems as threatening.
TO BE RESIGNED SO fondly to oneβs fate, Eliana could not comprehend. Zeean spoke of the cruelty they had experienced with such disconnect - their ordeal reminder her of her brother - she was a mere passenger to Iliasβ abuse at the hands of their brother. Beatings were often given for the smallest of things, it did not take a genius to uncover that the King was looking for the slightest excuse to beat the boy into submission. Eliana would watch on; vacant, helpless and learning, learning the ways in which to avoid meeting the same tragic fate as her elder brother. Ilias would make a mistake and be harshly punished for it; Eliana would notice and adapt herself accordingly. In the eyes of their father, she was perfect, but that was all a mere faΓ§ade she had conducted in order to survive.. As an adult, she looked back on her childhood with some confusion; perhaps she could have done more to protect her brother, yet at the same time, she was thankful it was not herΒ who met their fatherβs wrath. Were such feelings selfish? Could Ilias have known of his sisterβs desire to speak out; her complacence brought about by fear? Eliana wondered if there had been those in Zeeanβs life who felt the same as her, who had watched the Priest - then a mere child - with the same terror that she once had. β You sound like my brother... β There is a sudden flash of anguish, regret, that crosses her face with her words. β I am...sorry you had to endure that. β Her apology is not only meant for the Priest. Eliana hopes that Osiris will guide her words towards her brother, that He would somehow communicate the words she had been unable to express thus far.Β
β I do not believe that you pass no judgement. Your expression tells a very different story than the words you speak. βΒ Once more, she studies them with rampant fascination. There always seemed to be something different about them each time her eyes made their way across their guise. Something lingering just out of reach beneath their own darkened orbs. β People judge people. It is in our very nature; men are fickle creatures - even you, and you are not at all like most men. I judge you. You judge me. The Gods judge the harshest of all. βΒ
She grumbles, an unpleasant sounding hum passing through her throat. Her expression, remains unchanged, albeit her brows furrowing and her smirk becoming increasingly more forced. Zeean scolds her like a parent scolding their child; mentor scolding mentee. It takes every ounce of her obligated respect not to roll her eyes at them, but Gods does she want to. Her fists are clenched, nails digging into the the skin of her palm, no doubt leaving harsh indents behind. She breathes out a sharp breath not unlike Zeeanβs own. She was not in her brotherβs shadow, for she wasΒ the shadow. She was the new moon, Ilias the full. Eliana had made her peace with being the villian; someone always had to be. People could look upon her with furrowed brows and harsh whispers, but peopleΒ meant nothing. The only thing that mattered was her own conquest; solving the riddles left behind by her fatherβs death, understanding her motherβs disappearance. Those were the only thing she would allow herself to be consumed by. Perhaps Zeean judged them as meere vanity; they were entitled to such thoughts, but their voice would never triumph over her own monologue. β You would only be above me if I thought you as such. I do not think such things, just as you do not see me as above you. Where does that leave us? I believe, logically, on equal standing. β Eliana is lying, of course. She thinks herself above all things. She was at the epicenter of her world, everything else was dust. β Maybe I am - the true Priest that is.. β She smirks, for she cannot help herself, the snide remark escaping her lips before she can stop it, β Maybe you are a pretender. Maybe I am too. Maybe, we are all pretenders in some sense. βΒ
β Humility is so hard to come by these days. β She muses, absentmindedly, β I wonder, if perhaps there is any of it left in the world, or did the Gods give it all to you, so that you might tell me to humble myself... βΒ Eliana hums with a shrug of her shoulders. It is far easier for her to paint herself unbothered than allow Zeean to see that their words have roused her. Even if the Priest knew of their silent victory, Eliana would not allow them the satisfaction of making it tangible through her reactions. She instead continues her masterful performance, one she has been perfecting since she were a child. It began with Lothar, with Ilias, and it would continue for Zeean. Clearing her throat, Eliana strides forward, widening the space between them, β I can see that you are becoming agitated, I apologise if I have offended you. I forget that not everyone is as accustomed to my sharp tongue as my dear brother. I shall...adjust my temperament for you accordingly. βΒ
β Nonetheless, I do hope you will consider what I have said, my Lord, for I would be eternally grateful for your guidance. βΒ Β Β Β Β
