ELIANA WATCHED THEM WITH unplaced understanding and an uncertain familiarity that lingered beneath the dark glow of their gazes. UnderstandingΒ was not something Eliana could find comfort within. Empathy was a lesson she had yet to choose to learn. She could acknowledge it for what it was, yet refused to budge from her rigid corner of apathy. Eliana envined Zeean for the power they held; even with the tears that threatened to crumble their poised faΓ§ade. Eliana said nothing, for there nothing to be said. Her eyes, fixated on their now vacant expression, communicated more than any of her honeyed words could, βYou donβt fool meβ, they said. β You say those words, not like you believe them, but like they have been beaten into you. β In a certain sense, Eliana could agree with the Holy men; love. What was love good for? AbsolutelyΒ nothing. Her father had her love - he was dead. Her mother had her love - she was missing. She loved her brother, he loved her the same, but Ilias had come to keeping her at armβs length, they both knew exactly whatΒ she was. ElianaΒ would acknowledge their shared sense of grief, and then she would let it pass, allowing them both to slip back into their comforting performances. β I am sure you are quite tired of people pitying you. It is either fear of pity; people feel sorry for you and they are scared of you. β She says cooly, with a cock of her head.Β
Eliana presses her lips into a thin line; sarcastic remarks racing through her mind. If Zeean were Ilias, they would likely meet the butt of them,Β βThe Gods do not know meβ She thinks to herself. βNo one knows me.βΒ The Priest is not her brother, thus she is unable to address them as such, she merely allows the words to float through her head before she composes herself, β Yes, of course. Ilias has always been betterβ¦ β She sighs, smiling through gritted teeth. Even when absent in person, Iliasβ name still worms its way into her business, Osiris curse her. β But I do not want to be Ilias. I want to be myself, the most powerful version of myself. It is what my father envisioned for me. I live to honour his memory through my actions. β Ilias was so undeserving.Β Β Β
β Osiris has all the light he needs. He has Ilias. But there is no light without dark. Ilias is day. I am night. My night is dark. There cannot be one without the other. I know this to be true, I saw it in my parents, and now Osirisβ twin flames fall to my brother and I. Burdensome, perhaps, but we all have our trials. β She clasps her hands in front of her, rising a challenging brow. If the Priest would not pander to her, so be it, they would be a fine challenge; Eliana would never allow herself not to seize the last word, not matter how many harsh truths Zeean would thrust at her.Β
She pouts, fluttering her length of eyelashes, β You do not trust me Zeean !! β Eliana gasps dramatically, β I am hurt. You think I am only in this for self-indulgence. Has my brother said something to you ?! Ilias makes me out to be worse than I am, I swear. β She chuckles, dark and husky. As they turn the corner, away from the prying gaze of onlooking courtiers, Elianaβs performance slackens. The short moments she is silent seem encompassing, drowning out the softness of the court they are just a few short strides from; β I have questions. Questions that no man can answer. β She folds her arms, onlooking Zeean squarely.
β I want to know where my mother is - if she is still alive. I want to know why she choose to abandon her family. I want to know why she loved my brother more than me. I want to know what disease turned my father into a rotting corpse before my very eyes. I want to know why our healers could not aid him. I want to know why Osiris allowed these things to happen. My questions cannot be answered by man - not even by you, and you are the most powerful being on this Earth; so you will help me get my answers. You will help me reach Osiris, so I can ask Him. β
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 Zeean's shoulders would do to the other - when the weight of the entire world's 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 Father's 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 "Ah... 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." They began, eyes scanning the other for comprehension as they continued to speak. "People 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 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 "I 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." They were experiencing difficulty in preventing their distaste for the girl's 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 Zeean's feet came to a halt as frustration absconded their nose accompanied by a sharp-edged breath. "I 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." They stated, their tone calm despite the exasperation that was giving rise in their breast. "If 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 brother's shadow extended over you for the rest of your life."
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 "Why would I trust you? What have you ever done to gain that? Or should I bestow it upon you simply for your title?" They stated as their eyes pointed down at her much like daggers. "That 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 share... always..." 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 "Osiris 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 family's faults."
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. "Do not demand things of me, I am not your subject." They stated, dusting off their cloak before providing her with another glance.Β
Β Β "You would do well to learn to respect me, for whether you like it or not, I shall always be above you.... 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?" There was a pause in their speech, allowing another puff of air to escape their parted lips.
Β Β "The 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 all...." 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 "Those are your first lessons. Approach me again once you've taken a more humble and earnest path toward power. Do not ever try to waste my time again." 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.
