How Familiar - 11. Cita - The Boy In The Fog

Cita Zyria

There was nothing but grey clouds in the sky as far as Cita could see from the Palace window. How fitting, she thought. With what is transpiring down there, it was a miracle the Heavens were not weeping. She watched as Armyn alone treated with five of the rebel leaders. Three of them were from the formerly prestigious Liore family - the matriarch, Sienne and her two eldest children, her son Maury and her daughter Felise. They rode atop their mighty arachnids, horrible eight-legged monstrosities with teeth that could pierce steel and venom so potent it could give even Kaden's best healing magics a run for their money. Sienne's youngest child, a man named Dax, had served as Palace Guard for Queen Palona and King Jaiden, but when Kai attacked the Palace sixteen years ago, he killed Dax by destroying his Familiar. Sienne Liore and the rest of her family had sworn vengeance against the Zyrians ever since, rapidly becoming leaders of the upcoming rebellion.

Next to the Liores and their horrible Familiars, a great female warrior loyal to the Alae family stood with her spear and her hawk circling above. Her name was Mariya, Cita knew. On Mariya's other side was formerly the wealthiest woman in Alaeyas, Danielle Leiau. She had been using the considerable resources still at her disposal to accumulate an army of rebels and mercenaries. Five of the most dangerous people in Alaeyas and Armyn was treating with them alone. Or so they thought. Cita turned her head to look at her brother. He was sitting in the throne he'd made for himself up the stairs from the Council table, his eyes rolled to the back of his head and his skin giving off a radiant red glow. Astral projection was a great talent of Armyn's. While the rebel leaders believed they were speaking with him in person, he was safely inside the Palace.

"Ludicrous," old Willa was never shy of speaking her opinion, and she was shaking her head. She was sitting at the table with Zed and his ‘ferocious’ wolf. Zed's Familiar adored Willa. It often sat with her at the Council meetings and enjoyed scratches behind the ears. "We don't need to fight amongst ourselves while Palona's children seek to return with armies at their backs."

"We don't have a choice while those traitors seek to destroy everything we've worked so hard to build!" Young Ross asserted. When his grandfather passed away a year ago, his state elected him to take the old man's place on the Council. He was too young and brash, Cita thought, but it came from caring deeply about his countrymen. There was a place for passion, but he could not restrain himself. "We have to protect our people, even if it's from our own people!"

"We cannot protect our people by sending them to war!" Zed played with Willa's squirrel while they waited for Armyn to finish his 'diplomatic' discussion with the rebel leaders.

"A fat lot of good playing for cooperation and peace did for Tracey!" Gracie had her arms folded as she looked with contempt down at the people who killed her closest friend on the Council. "None of us are safe in our homes anymore, and our people are getting tired of us hiding here in the Palace. I hope Armyn destroys all five of them and ends it right here."

"He cannot," Cita murmured, watching the conjured reflection of her brother alone down there fearlessly opposing the Liores, Mariya and Danielle. "It is exhausting for him to project himself in this way. It will take him some time to regain his strength. He is not the man our father is."

"So send Mala to strike them all down!" Ross urged her, joining her and putting a broad, strong hand around her waist. She brushed it off. She did not fancy him and did not appreciate his subtle attempts to win her affection. "She has her elite soldiers behind the gates! End it now before it turns to war!"

"You kill them, and more take their place," Willa warned, her squirrel crawling back up her arm and taking its favourite resting place between her breasts. "I don't know how many times I have to tell you this! Perhaps you could take the advice of an old woman just once before she dies. War will come to us no matter how many people we kill. That's just what Cita's idiot brother was counting on."

"At least he's doing something!" Gracie, tall and straight-backed as Mala was and three times her age, banged on the window with her fist as she looked to Willa with blue Alaeyan eyes. "And you have no right to speak about Lord Armyn in that way."

"Of course I do!" Willa laughed and began to cough. As much as Kaden took excellent care of her, he could not stop her body from approaching the end of its time, and she required more attention as she enjoyed her twilight years. "Lord Armyn? He's an idiot."

Cita was used to the divided Council. She, Willa, Zed, Roy and Delma believed in reaching a common ground with the leaders of the uprising and compromise. Ross, Gracie, Xavier and Aisha advocated for war. Armyn was not part of the Council and was not involved in its votes, but he did as he liked, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to oppose him as more of the Council's members took his side following the assassination of Tracey of the far north, rallying their people in support of him when he avenged Tracey by giving her assassin a most painful death. Mala stood with Armyn in this dispute, believing that justice was most easily reached by doing whatever the greater good requires. She is a soldier, Cita thought bitterly. She believes in nothing but battle. She has no idea of the pain and suffering war will bring. Kaden was Cita's staunchest supporter, but Armyn sent him away to Ulisse.

A sudden gasp from Armyn's body drew Cita's attention, and she looked down at his projection once more. Lady Liore's horrid beast had attempted to strike him down then and there. During negotiations! Cita was furious. Why were the rebels so intent on death and disaster?? She watched as Mariya attempted to gore the boy with her spear, and she heard Armyn beginning to laugh in his throne. He was taunting them, no doubt. Armyn loved to kick people when they were down. Suddenly, the apparition flickered, and Armyn gave a loud gasp as he entered his body once more. The boy groaned in agony and coughed, weakly beating his chest. He liked to pretend to his enemies that he was more powerful than any being alive, even Kai, but Cita saw the vulnerable side of him. He was far from the unstoppable tyrant people believed him to be.

Outside Cita saw her sister leading a small charge from the Palace gates. With Armyn so suddenly vanishing and leaving the Liores, Mariya and Danielle confused and in a vulnerable position, the small but deadly group Mala personally trained fanned out, riding wolves, tigers and bears. The traitors were quick to mount the arachnids and flee, those monsters running much faster on their eight long legs than the smaller Familiars of the Alaeyan army. Mala did not chase them. Those were not her orders. She only needed to show the rebels the strength of the Alaeyan army. It was over. The negotiations, at least. From the look of things, this was just the beginning.

"Who do they think they are?" Armyn was breathing heavily. Cita could sense the rage in her brother's tainted heart. "They would not give an inch, and then they attempted to kill me. I'm insulted that they would think me so stupid. Fucking traitors."

"Armyn!" Cita was embarrassed by her brother's filthy mouth. "Did you attempt to sue for peace or did you goad them into attacking you?"

"That is a good question!" Willa planted a small kiss on her Familiar's head, using a gnarled old finger to caress the tired old thing. "Did you insist on doing this alone so you could drag us closer to the abyss?"

"Don't ever speak to me like that again, you old cunt," Armyn scowled at her, the rubies in his hair and neck appearing to glow the way his eyes did when he was especially angry. Nobody dared to pull him up on his manner while he was in a mood so foul. Not Cita. This time, not even Willa. "They gave me terms. That bitch Sienne wants nothing less than to sit the throne herself. She does not care for Palona's three brats. She wouldn't accept anything else, then she tried to have her beast gobble me up. Cute."

"Hold," Zed stood up, stroking his huge, brown moustache with a gloved hand. His wolf whimpered by his side. "Does this mean that the rebel army does not intend to ally themselves with Eodanira or Iralia after all?"

"Correct," Armyn replied. He was in pain. Likely he had a bad headache the same way Cita did when she dreamed too often. "Sienne Liore believes she will win this civil war and any battles with our neighbours. She can afford mercenaries from all over Ytia, and she is amassing an army as we speak. She has no love for the Alae family. She only has hatred for us. It was true of all of them. I could taste it. Pathetic."

"Well, this changes things, surely!" Ross looked to Cita with his blue-grey eyes and long, ginger eyelashes. "C'mon! They only want to take us out for the sake of it! Are you gonna sit back and let them take the country back and leave it the way it was when Palona ran things?"

"I agree," Gracie had her long, lean arms folded and a frown on her brown tanned face. It was a different climate up in the north-western area that she represented. "Those rebels aren't loyal to the old monarchy. They're seeking power for themselves! That's it, and that's all. We have to extinguish them."

"Do you realise how many people will die for this?" Zed asked, aghast at the situation.

"We don't have a choice anymore, it seems," Willa mused, her wrinkles lining her face as she snuggled her best friend. "If the rebels will not compromise... if the rebels are looking to pick apart all the good our Kai has done for their own selfish agendas... then we can only defend ourselves. Our countryfolk will die of starvation and slavery under a Liore regime. Is that not worse than letting them die to save everything we stand for?"

"Willa, you can't mean that!" Cita covered her mouth. "Haven't you lost enough children?"

"Aye, and I will do whatever it takes to protect the one I still have, and my grandchildren and great-granddaughter as well!" Willa banged the floor with her great big stick. "I'm sorry, pet."

Cita saw the smirk on Armyn's face, and that was enough for her. She left the room in a hurry before she could either burst into tears or scream at her manipulative, conniving brother. If he could sway Willa to his side, then it was already lost. She ignored everyone who greeted her in the Palace halls and shut herself in her father's chamber. It was in the same state it had been weeks ago when he disappeared.

"Where are you?" Cita asked the giant painting on the south wall. Kai of Zyria, and four little newborns, all identical. "We're in danger. Everything you built is crashing down, and where are you? Do you even care?"

Her father's kind eyes almost seem to look into hers. It's only a painting. He looked to be in his late twenties, but Cita knew her father was at least four hundred years old. Maybe he knows something we don't? Perhaps he's seen too much. Maybe something happened to him.

"Cita," Mala's voice interrupted her. "He's gone."

"So where is he, Mala?" She turned to see her sister. She was still in her war clothes, only just returning from the potential battlefield. She wore a black jerkin with tights underneath, and her boots laced up to her knees. We used to be as twins when we were young, but we are nothing like each other. Mala did not need armour. Her skin was imbued with powerful sorcery that made traditional weapons harmlessly bounce from it. Without the heavy breastplate that many of the Alaeyan militia wore, she was faster and lighter on her feet than any other soldier.

"How should I know?" Mala shrugged, leaning on her spear. She never parted with that horrible thing. "You are the Seer, not I."

"He should be here," Cita felt tears of misery and desperation welling in her eyes. "He was the one who started all this mess in the first place. Where is he?"

"I miss him too, but he's not here," Mala took her sister's hand with her own. They were strong and tough. Cita's were soft and delicate. She is the warrior. I am the Seer. "Wishing for his return is not going to work, Cita. You cannot find him, so focus on what's important. Focus on what we're doing. We need you, sister. Armyn fancies himself as the brains and I the brawn of our force, but the truth is we need your wisdom and guidance. Neither Armyn nor I can see the big picture the way you can."

"What guidance?" Cita baulked at her, wrenching her hand away. "Whatever I counsel, Armyn does the opposite! He sent Kaden away to Ulisse! Our only healer gone - thousands of miles away! I plead for peace, diplomacy and caution, and he brazenly murders that man with our brand of magic! The nobles will stop at nothing to kill all of us now. He is dooming us! The vultures are circling, and Father is nowhere to be found!"

"I understand this is all very hard for you, Cita," Mala spoke patiently, but firmly, her red eyes narrow as she hit the butt of her spear on the floor repeatedly. "The love of justice and humanity has always defined you, but we are at war, sister. War! You are the Seer, so why is it you are so blind?"

"Blind?" Cita furrowed her brow, and Mala smiled warmly.

"Blind," she repeated. "Cita, Armyn did not force Kaden to go. He left of his own free will at the Queen's own summons. He is in Ulisse to heal the sick and win Layla Lisse's support. She is the only Queen without teeth bared at us."

"Ulisse does not have an army capable of defeating Iralia and Eodanira! Meanwhile, Armyn has intentionally escalated our issues with the former nobles into a civil war!" Cita pointed out, but Mala did not seem to be phased.

"We will win a fight against the nobles," Mala told her confidently. "But if we do not beat them before our neighbours cross our borders, then we will lose. Armyn is smarter than you think, sister, and I know that you know that. Your hatred of him clouds your judgment."

Cita slapped her sister in the face, and Mala angrily shoved her away in response.

"My judgment remains sound, thank you very much!" She hissed at Mala, who began tracing the tip of her spear with her finger. How many rebels had she already skewered with that thing? "I don't believe that violence will lead to anything but more violence! The Council stands behind me on this."

Being the reflection of her father's staunch beliefs in justice was never easy. Injustice did not upset Cita merely in the traditional way - it physically hurt. Her spirit. Her sense. Her soul. Something there hurt when the innocent suffered. When the cruel thrived. I know what is best! The Goddess' own blood runs through my veins. Yet... they will not listen.

"The Council may not be as behind you as you might think," Mala replied coldly. "Tracey's death was what those chatterboxes needed to finally agree that we need to act, and Armyn began the charge by killing her assassin. Willa, your most reliable supporter, has changed her tune. Don't you get it, Cita? Yes, our brother is... troubled, but Father groomed him for this. He is willing to do the things necessary to protect Alaeyas, things that might turn your stomach. Even mine! By accelerating this civil war with the nobles, Armyn is cutting out the rot before it spreads to Eodanira and Iralia."

"So we defeat the rebel army in battle, and then what? Casualties. Suffering. We take prisoners, and people starve. We lose valuable resources and millions lose far more than that," Cita counted on her fingers, but Mala merely rolled her eyes. "Don't roll your eyes at me! We can resolve this without putting our country through a war!"

"You always were too virtuous for your own good, Cita," Mala folded her arms. "You forget that many people do not share your lust for fairness. While you do nothing, Armyn and I will do what we need to do to protect our family, our people and our country. We begin readying for battle as of tomorrow. I would greatly appreciate if you would do your part for us, but I don't expect it of you."

"Father won't put up with this!" Cita snarled. She knew he wouldn't. He was a kind, gentle man at heart. He would never advocate for war.

"Father is dead," Mala replied coldly. "If he were alive, he would never have abandoned us the way he did. He grew weak when he made us. It was only a matter of time." She left the room in a huff. Cita clenched her fists.

Bitch!

Grow up, Mala replied, shooting Cita a scornful look before shutting the heavy oak door behind her.

Cita wiped tears from her eyes as she looked once more at the painting on the wall. Kai was so happy, looking with love at the four children he created. Nobody was sure which ones were Cita, Kaden and Mala, but Armyn was the one on the far right. There was no questioning that. Even as a newborn babe, he scowled with his red eyes. Wherever you are, Father, please be okay. She slowly trudged to her own bedchamber. I need to sleep, she thought. I have gone too long without it. When she entered and closed the door behind her, she made her decision. I will find him. He is not dead. It can't be true, can it? I will see him. I will bring him home to us.

"Vazera el Latayafi gafa, aiyo manafai," she whispered, a brief wave of shock flooding through her as energy coalesced into a red, burning flame at the tip of her left index finger.

She walked around her room and pressed the conjured fire to the wicks of her four unique candles. The Mother's Candles. Memories came back to her.

~

"These are precious, Cita," Kai once told her when she was still young enough to sit on his knee as he brushed her long, black hair. "They are some of the only things I still have of our family before the Alaes came for us. My mother - your grandmother - gave them to me for my seventh birthday. Do you remember what happens when you wake up tomorrow?"

"I'm seven!" Cita gleefully reminded him. She'd been nagging him for weeks. Nearly months. He was merely humouring her.

"That's right!" He put the brush down on the side table and kissed her tenderly on the crown of her head. "They're my gift to you. Would you like me to show you how they work?"

"Yes!" Cita had been curious about these particular candles her father kept to himself. This was the first time she'd been allowed to touch them.

"Okay then!" Kai gently pushed her to her feet and stood up. "Vazera el Latayafi gafa, aiyo manafai!" He chanted, and Cita gasped as a little ball of fire appeared at the end of his finger. She had not learned any fun spells like that yet. Kai was scared she would accidentally burn the whole Palace down. "If you light all four of them and place one on each side of your bed like a diamond when you go to sleep, then you will have much stronger dreams than you would normally have!"

~

Cita smiled. She and Kai flew together that night in the dream they shared. She ate as much delicious candy as she could find and there were hundreds of cute little animals to play with. Her own collection of Familiars. In this world, she learned to open doors to wherever she wanted to go in the place she called The Fog, but best of all, she got to spend the whole night with her father. No Mala, Armyn or Kaden. It was just the two of them. Kai warned her afterwards that the candles were not always kind to those who had not mastered them, and made her promise to use them responsibly, but Cita did not learn her lesson until she went into the Fog alone and had a horrible nightmare that she struggled to wake from. Though her heart pounded like a drum, she was determined to use their power. Kai was alive somewhere. She knew it. She could feel it.

Cita did dream that night, but it was not of their father and Jerod, no matter how hard she tried. The doors she opened in the Fog did not take her where she needed to go, even though she'd lit the candles.

"You will not like everything you see," Kai told her after she was thoroughly shaken by the horrible nightmare she had long ago. "And you will not see everything you like. That is the price we pay.

But... I need to see him. I need to know he is still alive. Tired of finding nothing but more Fog, she turned around and gasped. One of the doors in the Fog was different from the others, she noticed. They were of matter. Wood. Steel. Iron. This one seemed to be made entirely of Fog. When she approached, it opened on its own, and darkness flooded her. It felt familiar to her. She trembled, cold and scared, but she pressed on. Father might be here. She did not know where the Fog door had taken her, but there was a tiny, young boy facing the corner, sitting in the fetal position. She approached him, not sure what to make of it, and squeaked in fright when he began to speak in a cold, ethereal voice that chilled her right to the bone.

"A very long time ago, there was a woman," his voice was barely a whisper. "With black hair, white skin and red eyes. She lived alone," He was naked, and his skin was white and his hair black. Like Father. Like me. Like all of us. The Zyria family.

"Who was this woman?" Cita asked, gingerly approaching, but as much as she tried to close the gap between them, somehow he was always the same few feet away from her. I don't like this, she thought repeatedly. I don't like this. There was a feeling of dread that filled her from head to toe. A familiar dread.

"She was lonely," the boy replied to her quietly, shaking as though he were scared. "It was only her in the dark. She was scared. Afraid. Alone. Always alone."

"Didn't she have friends?" Cita asked. "What happened to her?"

"She split herself into two people so she wouldn't be lonely anymore," the boy replied, and he sniffled. He was rail-thin. She could see his spine and shoulder blades easily through his white skin. "She needed a friend."

"Who are you talking about?" Cita demanded, kneeling down and attempting to get closer once more. "Tell me! Look at me!"

"Together they had many, many children, and she gave them all a friend so nobody would ever be lonely again as she was," the boy turned to look at her, but his face was masked behind long, black hair. "A soul divided."

"Do you mean Familiars?" Cita looked at him. She didn't like this story. She didn't like the way he was telling it. "Is... was this lonely girl the Goddess?"

"Don't call her that!" He shrieked at her, standing up and screaming in frustration. A noise that was not human. The Fog turned from misty white to a hideous onyx black and it surrounded him like a cloud. "Look what she did to me! She did this! She did this!"

"Who are you?" She got to her feet and tried to retreat by walking backwards, but somehow, he only seemed to get closer to her, the black clouds booming with thunder and lightning sparking around him. She tried to scramble away, but the clouds brought him closer and closer. She felt so cold. She realised too late. "It's you!"

When their noses were an inch from each other, the boy brushed his hair back to expose his face. Cita screamed until she woke up.

She was wet with sweat in spite of the cold climate of southern Alaeyas. It was still light when she went to sleep, but it was now dark outside. She had no idea how far away dawn was, but she could not return to sleep now. No way. There was not a chance in Heaven nor Hell that she would risk going to the Fog again where that... creature lived! She could not remove it from her mind. She saw the candles burning, letting an eerie white smoke drizzle lazily from the red flame that lit them. She blew them out, bashed them away and threw one of them at the wall. This is why I don't use the fucking candles!

Kaden! She begged her brother. Kaden, I need you!

Cita? Why are you awake? Kaden sounded sleepy. I must have woken him. What happened?

I saw something horrible! She began to cry into her hands. I need you to help me.

I am busy in Ulisse, he replied sadly. Armyn can help you.

Armyn will not help me! Cita saw only what the creature had shown her when it moved the hair from its face. Its faces. I've seen it before. I know I have. Kaden, I'm so scared! I saw it again!

Try to calm yourself, Kaden begged, sounding exhausted. If Willa is in the Palace, she will take care of you. I don't have energy to spare. I'm sorry, Cita, but I must remain here until my job is done.

In truth, she missed her brother terribly. Kaden had always been special to her. They'd been inseparable their entire lives. Mala was forever jealous of their closeness, feeling left out. She did not share a bond with Armyn. Nobody did, but Armyn did not mind. To have both Kai and Kaden away for so long... it was hurting.

"Cita?" A sleepy voice asked from outside her door. Armyn?

"What?" She asked, and the boy came in without an invitation. "Why are you here? Don't you ever sleep?"

"Kaden woke me. He is worried about you, and I fear he will not leave me alone until I make certain for him that you're not in danger. You are drama queen, aren't you?" Armyn looked so different without his elaborate and regal appearance. Clad in only his sleeping trunks and his long hair free from jewellery and braids, he looked exactly like Kaden. There was no mystique or grandiosity about him. He appeared so... unimpressive. A skinny teenage boy, short for his age and even cute in his own way. That's all he was in the end. A little boy desperately trying to fill the shoes of their mighty father. "You used your candles?" He observed, looking at the mess she'd made since she woke.

How dare you send him to me! She angrily told Kaden, but she received no reply.

"Cita, why by the Goddess am I here?" Armyn yawned, sitting on the side of her bed and resting his head in the palm of his hand. "You saw something that scared you? Sister, you look terrible."

Cita shuddered as the image of that creature flashed by her again. "I don't want to talk about it. You don't care about me. You only want to know what I saw."

"I know you expect me to deny that, but you're absolutely correct," Armyn didn't have any shame in what he was admitting. "I'm too tired for games Cita, and I have to begin preparing our troops for battle. You used your candles. Were you trying to find Father?"

"You know I was," Cita brought her knees up to her chest and squeezed them close to her. "He isn't here. He isn't anywhere that I can see. Mala thinks he's dead."

"I'm not convinced he is," Armyn looked her in the eye. He always looked so hostile. He didn't like her any more than she liked him. They had been sparring since they were children - always fighting and arguing. Justice and vengeance did not mix well. Everything about Armyn irritated Cita's senses, and she knew it was the same for him. Tonight, it was different, she sensed. Why? "We would feel it if he left our world. It's one of the only things you and I actually agree on. So tell me. What scares you so that you're shaking even now?" He reached out and touched her quivering hand.

"Do you remember many years ago when I had that horrible nightmare?" Cita struggled to remember the details of the first night terror she had when she was reckless with the power of the Holy Candles. "I was seven or eight?"

"How can I forget?" Armyn's expression changed. It was not sympathy or love, but it wasn't the usual hatred or scorn. Concern? Fear, even? "You were screaming so loud, but still we could not wake you, even if we spoke through our bond or doused you with water. Kaden was in tears, and Father had to drag you back from the Fog with a spell. You were near catatonic for days."

"I don't recall," Cita shrugged. Armyn's lip curled impertinently, and she hated the way he did that. He didn't smile; he smirked. He didn't frown; he scowled.

"Because Father stole the memory from you," Armyn explained, and he slithered up to lie next to her on the bed. "I was watching from above when he did it, right over there." He pointed to the beams near the roof. "I had already learned how to project myself, and he was so concerned with his little protégé that he never noticed me."

"I was the protégé?" Cita was incredulous at her brother's claim. "He taught you nearly every spell he knows! You were always the golden child, monster or not!"

"You know how we came to be, sister," Armyn sighed after a brief pause. He turned his head to look at her, and she met his gaze. "Of course you do. Father was never shy about it. Some of the most ancient primordial sorcery known to him. The magic the Goddess used when she first created Human and Familiar. We have no mother. We have no Familiar. We are all reflections of our father. You desire justice and fairness to all, just as he did. My desires? Hmph. You resent me because my very existence reminds you that our dearest daddy isn't the perfect man you want to believe he is."

"What's your point?" Cita hissed at him. He was absolutely correct, though. Kaden was love. Mala was strength. Armyn was hatred. It hurt her to know that the man she idolised so much had such intense contempt and rage inside him somewhere that it manifested into Armyn when he created his children.

"My point," Armyn glared at her. "Is that he never let me learn how to harness the primordial magic of the Goddess. He sealed his knowledge away from me. There is so much untapped power inside me that I can only dream of reaching! You, on the other hand, oh, he groomed into the most powerful Seer in Ytian history. He saw something in you when he took that memory from your mind; I'm certain of it. But you know Father! All he ever does is keep secrets from us."

"Do you remember what I saw?" Cita asked him tentatively, and Armyn's pale pink lips twitched.

"A boy. Five or six. He was lonely and wanted to play or something. He started to scare you and when he noticed, he got angry with you," Armyn narrowed his eyes as he tried his best to remember. "Is that who you saw tonight? The boy?"

"Armyn... he spoke of the Goddess. I'm sure of it," Cita hid her face behind her quivering hands. "He is no boy. He is some kind of demon."

"The Goddess? A demon?" Armyn finally seemed genuinely interested in the conversation now, rather than finding it tedious. "What did he say? Did you go through the Fog door again?"

"I did," Cita reached for her side table and sipped from the glass of water she kept handy. "He told me the Goddess split herself in half so she would finally have a friend, and she gave her children Familiars so they would never be lonely. When I called her the Goddess, he... he got so angry."

Her brother seemed shocked to hear that. He covered his mouth with his hand.

"Cita... do you think you've been speaking to the Fell God?" He asked her, a look of both horror and intrigue crossing his handsome face.

"The Fell God is dead," Cita shook her head. "The Goddess herself slew him with the Zyrians and Alaes at her back."

"I know what the Bishops tell us," Armyn cupped her cheek with his hand. "An old generation of bores, honestly. What you tell me is far, far more interesting."

"No. I'm never using those blasted candles again!" Cita closed her eyes, the memory of the creature still churning her stomach. "I'm done."

"No, sweet sister," Armyn kissed her on the forehead. "We've only now begun."

Thank you to everyone who reads my work.
Next chapter will be Soren in Eodanira.