Chapter 5
Preparations
In the northern tower of the Terran palace, Lady Beryl slept soundly in her bed. Her dreams were quiet and gentle, so it was quite a shock when a familiar voice, low and dangerous, sounded within her mind, calling her from her slumber. Beryl bolted upright, her heart thundering behind her ribs.
"Mistress?" she called in a whisper. "Where are you?" Metallia chuckled, a harsh, mocking sound.
You will not find me in your bedchamber, my pet, the goddess said sweetly. I am calling you from my own dwelling. Come to me, pet. I have something to show you.
"Come, Mistress?" Beryl squawked indignantly, upset at having her sleep disturbed. "How can I come? I know not where you are, nor how I am to get there!"
Shut up, girl! Metallia snapped. Do you wish to awaken all of Terra? Just because none but you can hear my voice does not mean that you cannot yet be heard! Fear stole Beryl's breath, and with it, her voice. Gasping as quietly as she could, she gathered tight fistfuls of her blanket in trembling, sweating fingers. The Terran royal family honored Selene as much as the Lunarians did, if not more. Because of that, they condemned anyone who associated with any of the dark gods. If anyone found out that Lady Beryl was on speaking terms with a dark goddess, not only would the royal family shun her, but also Metallia would not hesitate to punish her greatly. It would do no good to lie. Metallia could not afford to keep on any subordinate who risked the secrecy of her plans. The dark goddess' dream of conquering Serenity's kingdom was far too important-and far too much of a gambit. On Terra or any of the planets with vows of loyalty to Serenity, anyone who was alerted to Metallia's plans, besides those loyal to her, posed an unacceptable threat. At the moment, Beryl was Metallia's only loyal subordinate, but the dark goddess would not hesitate to eliminate her if it appeared she posed a threat. If her sudden outburst had awakened anyone, Beryl could more than certainly open her arms to Morganna right then.
When she dared to speak again, Beryl released the blankets, and lowered her eyes submissively.
"I am sorry, Mistress. Please forgive me. I meant no harm." Metallia cooed sympathetically, her voice soothing in spite of the mocking tones lying beneath it.
Do not fret, little one. There is no harm done. Suddenly, the goddess' tone changed, becoming ice-cold, with no trace of mockery. But if there were any harm done, you know I would not hesitate to eliminate the problem. Beryl shuddered, her belly twisting in knots. There was no mistaking the meaning of Metallia's words.
"Y-yes, Mistress, I-I know," she stammered.
You are a good child, my pet, Metallia said, her tone once again sardonically tender. But you must understand that I cannot jeopardize my plans of conquest. These Terran royals are quite.well, suffice to say that they are not fond of my dark siblings and me.
"I know, Mistress," Beryl whispered sympathetically. "Someday, things will change. I will make certain they do."
I know you will, pet, which is why I am quicker to forgive you than I would be to forgive anyone else. You are useful to me. Besides, I like you. Beryl giggled, feeling her cheeks color with pleasure. Metallia did not often show affection.
"I like you, as well, Mistress," she said shyly. Metallia cackled.
Oh, stop it! Come now, we have chattered on long enough. Come to me. As I said, I have something to show you.
"B-but." Beryl stuttered, hanging her head in embarrassment, "I do not know where you are."
Oh, piffle, the goddess snorted. You think I have not planned for that? Sit still, and I will bring you to my lair.
Beryl opened her mouth to question her mistress, but before she could speak, total darkness enveloped her, and she felt her blanket and the bed beneath her vanish. For a long moment, she floated on a sea of nothingness. Suddenly, an icy wind wrapped about her, cutting through her silk nightdress, and chilling her to the bone. Her bare feet touched cold stone. Her teeth chattering, Beryl hugged herself and shivered, steeling herself against the cold breeze as she waited with all the patience she could muster for Metallia to reveal herself.
A minute or two slipped by, and the goddess did not appear. Beryl's nose began to run. Sniffling like a child, the Terran noblewoman blinked her watery eyes, which were just beginning to adjust to the darkness. As the black void dulled into shades of grey, Beryl could just make out a large shadow, moving slowly as if through molasses.
"M-M-Mistress?" she called in a voice that quivered as violently as she was. All at once, a long, piercing shriek of fear and pain issued forth from the shadow, splitting the air and pounding excruciatingly into Beryl's skull. A wave of foreign magic, dark and powerful, drove the noblewoman to her knees. The pain caused by the unceasing cry forced her the rest of the way to the ground. Clapping her hands over her ears, Beryl huddled on the cold, hard ground, and screamed in agony, wanting nothing more than to drown out the terrible cry.
"Mistress!" she wailed, feeling tears leak out from beneath her eyelids. "Mistress, please help me!" Abruptly, the shriek died, and the hammering ache in Beryl's head eased. The rapidly waning power that hung in the air like smoke still stabbed at her, and she lie there in a quaking heap, whimpering like a hurt puppy.
"Great Urien!" a familiar, sarcastic voice exclaimed. "Lady Beryl, I had nearly forgotten that I called you to me! I was almost certain it would take longer for you to arrive than that!" Shaken, but sensing that she was safe Beryl opened one wet eye, then the other. The large shadow was still there, although its shape had changed slightly. It moved as slowly as ever, it's features unrecognizable in the dark.
"Mistress," Beryl whispered. "Where are you? I cannot see you." A heavy sigh issued from the shadow.
"Of course," Metallia muttered darkly, her words meant for herself, but said aloud for the girl's benefit. "Of course. Poor, pathetic mortal girl that she is, she cannot see without light. Well, I suppose I must indulge her." Suddenly, light flooded the room, sweeping into every corner. Beryl threw a hand over her face, shielding her eyes from the harsh glare. Another exaggerated sigh escaped the goddess' lips.
"I give you light, and it is too much. I should have known." In a moment, the light had dimmed to an acceptable brightness. Beryl could not help but scowl. She quite resented having her beloved mistress treat her as though she were a burden, a sniveling, whining child no one had wanted who had been dropped in her lap in spite of protests. Of course, she thought as she resisted the urge to wipe her nose on her sleeve, I likely do not look like much else, lying here upon the floor, shaking and sobbing. Blinking to clear the spots from her vision, Beryl struggled to stand on legs that were stiff and throbbing. Every muscle in her body ached with the effort of keeping her warm. Although the light was no longer too bright, the moisture in her eyes made it too difficult for her to see anything clearly. Shivering and hugging herself, Beryl rubbed away the wetness beneath her cold nose with fingers that were stiff and numb. A third sigh from Metallia.
"Light, warmth, and a handkerchief. Is their anything you mortals do not need?" Had she been less miserable, Beryl might have laughed. As it was, she could not even speak. Her jaws were clenched together too tightly to be pried apart. All at once, all the cold fled from her leaving only blessed, perfect warmth that flowed through her body as if carried by her blood. Beryl's jaw went slack, her aching muscles melting under the power of that soothing, healing warmth. Startled by the sudden removal of the stiffness in her legs, Beryl sagged toward the floor.
"Steady, my pet!" Metallia cautioned, catching her subordinate and pulling her upright. "Easy does the trick. Here, hold onto my arm." Beryl obeyed, steadying herself with the help of her mistress.
"Thank you," she whispered, wiping her eyes and nose.
"I should think that next time I call to you, you will at least bring a cloak with you," the goddess sneered, guiding Beryl's limp fingers to the white lace handkerchief she held in her hand. "Here. Use this." Obediently, the Terran noblewoman dabbed her eyes with the corner of the cloth, and blew her nose. Her vision cleared, and she saw Metallia standing beside her, amusement in her cruel eyes, and a derisive smile upon her lips. Beryl suddenly became aware of the lace handkerchief that she had just used. Taking it gingerly between two fingers, she held it at arms' length as if it were some disgusting vermin.
"Mistress, where did you get this?" she asked slowly. Metallia chuckled.
"Pet," she cooed mordantly, smoothing a hand over the girl's tangled red curls, "have you forgotten that I am a goddess?" Threading her fingers through her underling's flowing copper hair, the dark one began lightly massaging Beryl's scalp with her fingertips. Beryl sighed happily. She was still tired after having her sleep interrupted, and the goddess' hand was gentle and soothing. A yawn crept out from between Beryl's lips, in spite of her best efforts to keep it back. Exhaustion, warmth, and the tender hand of one she trusted.they were a deadly combination, but oh, they felt so good. A hot, stinging pain on her thumb and forefinger brought Beryl crashing back to reality. Crying out in surprise and fear, she hurled the flaming handkerchief to the floor, where it rapidly burned to ashes.
Metallia's cruel, scornful laughter brought a warm flush to Beryl's cheeks as, whimpering, she stuck her burnt fingers in mouth and sucked darkly.
"Never trust someone fully, my pet," the goddess chuckled mockingly. "They are sure to make you regret it." Beryl did not venture a reply. Rather, she examined her surroundings as she cautiously nursed her wounds. She had never seen her mistress' dwelling, and was curious in spite of herself.
It appeared that Metallia lived in some sort of cave. Outside, the land was buried in a think, glittering blanket of snow. The air was cold, and the sky was clear, its color a beautiful blend of purple and blue. It was the color of eternal twilight. Beryl nodded once to herself. It was no wonder, she thought, smiling wryly, that it had felt so cold upon her arrival. Just as Metallia had said, she would be certain to at least take a cloak next time she was called here-wherever 'here' was.
"Mistress," she began, turning away from the entrance to the cave, "Mistress, where are." Beryl trailed off, her voice failing her as her eyes widened in terror. Suddenly, she knew what had made the large shadow she had seen, and who had been the source of that terrible, terrible cry. At the back of the cave was a stone alter, before which Metallia stood, drinking deeply from an ebony goblet. Lying upon the alter was the naked body of a beautiful woman-or at least, she had been beautiful when she was alive. Now, though, her body lay in two neat pieces, her blood pouring forth, staining the stone beneath her a hideous red. Metallia swallowed every drop of the goblet's contents, and smacked her lips. Her eyes flashing hungrily, she thrust the goblet into the woman's upper half, filling her cup to the brim with thick, red blood. Again, she drank every drop, and again, she dipped back into the woman's body for more. Beryl screamed in fright, unable to stop herself. The businesslike manner in which her mistress satisfied her bloodlust was more than she could bear.
Metallia's black eyes flashed as she realized that her subordinate was watching her eat. As she filled her cup again, licking blood from her lips, she calmly shook her head.
"Look away, pet, if it frightens you to see me feeding." Beryl set her jaw, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath.
"I am not frightened, Mistress. I was simply startled." She knew Metallia did not believe her, but the goddess seemed too preoccupied with her meal to care. She merely shrugged, gulped the contents of her goblet, and filled it again. Beryl's stomach fought to rebel as she watched Metallia gorge herself on the woman's blood, but she held it at bay, forcing back the bile that lodged in her throat. She would not let her mistress think her weak- willed! As the goddess imbibed what had to be her tenth cup of bright ruby blood, she suddenly stopped and lowered her goblet. The expression upon her beautiful face was akin to that of someone who had just tasted a glass of lemonade and realized that the sugar had been forgotten. It seemed she had discovered an unpleasant surprise in her goblet of blood. Eager to rid herself of what Beryl suspected must have been a most repulsive flavor upon the goddess' tongue, Metallia put two fingers into her mouth, and extracted whatever it was offending her.
"Disgusting," she muttered, gulping another mouthful of blood and swishing it around her teeth to rid herself of the foul taste. "Absolutely disgusting." Baring her bloodstained teeth in a final sneer at the thing that had so offended her, the goddess flicked it away and forgot about it, returning to her meal. Beryl, though could not forget about it, most likely because it was at her feet that it landed with a squish. It was a vein. It was a purple, broken vein that lie at her feet in a tiny puddle of blood. Beryl could not fight her angry belly any longer. Sinking to her knees, the girl wretched and heaved and choked and vomited again and again. Several more veins were found in Metallia's cup. Each time, they landed before Beryl, and each time, she vomited upon them. Once, she dared to look up, and saw that Metallia had abandoned the cup, and was now soaking her hands in blood and licking them clean. Beryl lowered her head and thoroughly emptied her stomach of its contents.
At long last, Metallia sighed, and snapped her bloody fingers. Pale and sweating, Beryl weakly raised her head again, bracing herself for the violent scene and the wave of nausea that would be her punishment for viewing it. To her great relief, the body was gone, along with the blood, the veins, and the wet, viscous mess created by Beryl's own weakness. Metallia approached the trembling noblewoman, a cool, damp cloth in her clean hand. Kneeling before the girl, she slipped her fingers under her chin and lifted her head so that they could look one another in the eye. The goddess' face was tight with stern disapproval.
"I told you to look away," she scolded sharply, swiftly mopping Beryl's brow with the damp cloth. "Fool. Did you truly believe that your soul was so strong it could overpower the demands of its vessel?" Beryl, hot tears of shame stinging her eyes, did not respond. In truth, she had believed just that. She wanted so badly to love her mistress, to accept every part of her that she had believed it possible to overcome her natural fear of blood. She had failed. Beryl choked on a sob. Perhaps if someone were to look upon them at that moment, they would not know that Beryl had lost control, but she would know. Perhaps the mess itself was gone, but its sour flavor still coated her tongue thickly.
"I am sorry, Mistress," she whispered. Metallia sighed. She gestured quickly, and a second goblet appeared in her hand, filled with cool, clean water. She raised the goblet to Beryl's lips.
"Drink," she ordered curtly. Beryl wordlessly obeyed. The cool water washed the taste of her shame from her tongue, and soothed her belly. She felt her head clearing.
"I suppose I should not have told you to look away." Metallia murmured. "After all, if you are to help me tear Serenity from her throne, you cannot fear bloodshed. I think I shall call you to me any time that I feed, that you might watch, and free yourself of your fear." Beryl gulped, paling at the thought. In her mind's eye, she could still see the woman's broken body, the clean, white bones, the rich red blood flowing from both halves.she shuddered. If every one of her mistress' feedings was to be that way, she could certainly count on growing notably thinner in the next few weeks. But she was prepared to endure such torture if it would bring her closer to her mistress.
"That will do," she whispered. "Mistress, if you do not mind my asking, who was that?"
"Muta," the goddess answered without hesitation. "One of my dark sisters. Or at least, she used to be." Beryl was shocked.
"You fed upon one of your own?" she asked incredulously. The goddess shrugged.
"What else was I to do? The blood of a god or goddess is not so sweet as that of a mortal, but it is far more powerful. Speak not," she told Beryl, holding up a hand to hold off the question that she knew was upon her subordinate's lips. "Alone, I have not the power necessary to combat Serenity. No, I shall need more.much more."
"But.why?" Beryl ventured timidly. "You are a goddess. Surely your own power surpasses Serenity's." Metallia's eyes took on a faraway gleam, focusing somewhere over Beryl's head.
"Yes.but it is not enough.I require the power necessary to put her mind at ease. I must lure her away from her unease. Selene will interfere. I must be strong enough to create such a lullaby that will soothe both their hearts. Serenity must not know."
"But how did you kill her?" Beryl interrupted, put off by her mistress' cryptic rambling. "I did not think that goddesses, even worldly ones, could be killed." Metallia bared her teeth in a mocking smile, as if pleased that she had been asked that particular question.
"Ah, yes," she drawled. "How indeed would I kill one of my immortal sisters? Well, pet, that is exactly what I brought you here for. This is what I wished to show you." Getting to her feet, the goddess slithered over to the back corner of her dwelling, a place where the light of her magic did not touch. From that corner, Metallia took what appeared to be some sort of long weapon, and held it out for Beryl to examine.
"Come, my pet," she said, thrusting the weapon invitingly towards the girl. "Take it. Look it over. Tell me what you think of it." Swallowing her inhibitions, Beryl stood, approached her mistress, and took the weapon from her in one swift motion.
Its handle was long, narrow, and smooth, crafted from some kind of metal, the likes of which Beryl had never seen before. The noblewoman had to marvel at its excellent craft, and at the curved double blade atop it. The weapon was a long and threatening piece of work. Beryl was a fairly tall woman, but when she stood the weapon on its end, the tip of its larger blade overtook her by several inches. Hefting the weapon, Lady Beryl gave it several experimental swings, moving gracefully, in total harmony with the singing blade. In spite of its heavy blade, the weapon was light, and whistled through the air with deadly speed.
"Incredible," the girl breathed. "What is it?"
"The Silence Glaive," Metallia purred, dark eyes gleaming. "A token from the Promise Child's mother." Lady Beryl paused in mid-swing.
"Lady Saturn? But she died as a mortal."
"The natural order of things has a way of resisting changes in her routine. Normally, that is a problem for the dark gods, for our champion is Chaos. In the case of the Promise Child, however, Order has sold herself out. She could not accept that Lady Saturn was now a mortal, so she allowed her to leave a token to her daughter." The goddess snickered, smirking triumphantly. "If Serenity had not been so eager to escape the woman's chambers after her death, she might have found the Glaive and kept it for herself."
"We are lucky she left so quickly, are we not, Mistress?" Metallia shrugged.
"It matters not. Not as long as she takes it upon herself to raise the child. As long as that is so, the Glaive will bring about her end, for Nephrenia predicted that it was with the Silence Glaive that the Promise Child would tear Serenity from her throne." Beryl nodded wordlessly. It amazed her how easy Metallia made their conquest sound. Funny that she should be so worried someone would prevent it. Well, Beryl supposed that as long as no one knew of it, it would not be difficult.
"Um, Mistress?" she asked. "Once the Moon Kingdom is yours, what will become of Terra?" Metallia's gaze was sharp upon Lady Beryl.
"What do you wish to become of it? For I assume that because you ask, you already desire a specific fate to befall your home world."
"Yes, Mistress," Beryl admitted. "I wish to be its Queen. I wish to rule it."
"You would have that anyway, would you not? I know that you are betrothed to the Terran prince, Endymion."
"Yes," Beryl agreed. "And I wish to remain so." Metallia chuckled, a wicked grin curving her lips.
"How old is your prince now, one-and-twenty?" Beryl dipped her chin affirmatively, keeping one wary eye upon her mistress. "He is a handsome lad, they say." Beryl felt color creep up her neck.
"Y-yes," she stammered. "I.he is handsome."
"You are fond of him, pet." That was a statement, not a question. Beryl lifted her chin.
"I am," she said without hesitation, "but that is not the only reason why I wish to become Queen of Terra. When I am Queen of Terra, I can show people that the dark gods are not who their history books and the light gods' priests tell them you are. I can show them what is true. In the meantime, I can find people of importance and skill, and turn them into loyal followers for you. I can make things different. You know that I can, Mistress."
"Yes, my pet," the goddess purred. "I know that you can. As I have said, that is one of the reasons why I chose you to serve me. Never fear. You will take your place as Queen of Terra, and your Prince Endymion will reign at your side." In that moment, had she not known better, Beryl could have hugged the goddess Metallia. As it was, she simply smiled gratefully.
"Thank you, Mistress. You will not be disappointed."
"I know I will not be, my pet." Before Beryl quite realized it, the goddess had plucked the Silence Glaive from her fingers, and with a wave of her hand, sent the noblewoman back to her bed. As Beryl felt sleep overtake her, Metallia's voice echoed in her mind. Sleep now, my pet. I shall call you to me again soon.
Preparations
In the northern tower of the Terran palace, Lady Beryl slept soundly in her bed. Her dreams were quiet and gentle, so it was quite a shock when a familiar voice, low and dangerous, sounded within her mind, calling her from her slumber. Beryl bolted upright, her heart thundering behind her ribs.
"Mistress?" she called in a whisper. "Where are you?" Metallia chuckled, a harsh, mocking sound.
You will not find me in your bedchamber, my pet, the goddess said sweetly. I am calling you from my own dwelling. Come to me, pet. I have something to show you.
"Come, Mistress?" Beryl squawked indignantly, upset at having her sleep disturbed. "How can I come? I know not where you are, nor how I am to get there!"
Shut up, girl! Metallia snapped. Do you wish to awaken all of Terra? Just because none but you can hear my voice does not mean that you cannot yet be heard! Fear stole Beryl's breath, and with it, her voice. Gasping as quietly as she could, she gathered tight fistfuls of her blanket in trembling, sweating fingers. The Terran royal family honored Selene as much as the Lunarians did, if not more. Because of that, they condemned anyone who associated with any of the dark gods. If anyone found out that Lady Beryl was on speaking terms with a dark goddess, not only would the royal family shun her, but also Metallia would not hesitate to punish her greatly. It would do no good to lie. Metallia could not afford to keep on any subordinate who risked the secrecy of her plans. The dark goddess' dream of conquering Serenity's kingdom was far too important-and far too much of a gambit. On Terra or any of the planets with vows of loyalty to Serenity, anyone who was alerted to Metallia's plans, besides those loyal to her, posed an unacceptable threat. At the moment, Beryl was Metallia's only loyal subordinate, but the dark goddess would not hesitate to eliminate her if it appeared she posed a threat. If her sudden outburst had awakened anyone, Beryl could more than certainly open her arms to Morganna right then.
When she dared to speak again, Beryl released the blankets, and lowered her eyes submissively.
"I am sorry, Mistress. Please forgive me. I meant no harm." Metallia cooed sympathetically, her voice soothing in spite of the mocking tones lying beneath it.
Do not fret, little one. There is no harm done. Suddenly, the goddess' tone changed, becoming ice-cold, with no trace of mockery. But if there were any harm done, you know I would not hesitate to eliminate the problem. Beryl shuddered, her belly twisting in knots. There was no mistaking the meaning of Metallia's words.
"Y-yes, Mistress, I-I know," she stammered.
You are a good child, my pet, Metallia said, her tone once again sardonically tender. But you must understand that I cannot jeopardize my plans of conquest. These Terran royals are quite.well, suffice to say that they are not fond of my dark siblings and me.
"I know, Mistress," Beryl whispered sympathetically. "Someday, things will change. I will make certain they do."
I know you will, pet, which is why I am quicker to forgive you than I would be to forgive anyone else. You are useful to me. Besides, I like you. Beryl giggled, feeling her cheeks color with pleasure. Metallia did not often show affection.
"I like you, as well, Mistress," she said shyly. Metallia cackled.
Oh, stop it! Come now, we have chattered on long enough. Come to me. As I said, I have something to show you.
"B-but." Beryl stuttered, hanging her head in embarrassment, "I do not know where you are."
Oh, piffle, the goddess snorted. You think I have not planned for that? Sit still, and I will bring you to my lair.
Beryl opened her mouth to question her mistress, but before she could speak, total darkness enveloped her, and she felt her blanket and the bed beneath her vanish. For a long moment, she floated on a sea of nothingness. Suddenly, an icy wind wrapped about her, cutting through her silk nightdress, and chilling her to the bone. Her bare feet touched cold stone. Her teeth chattering, Beryl hugged herself and shivered, steeling herself against the cold breeze as she waited with all the patience she could muster for Metallia to reveal herself.
A minute or two slipped by, and the goddess did not appear. Beryl's nose began to run. Sniffling like a child, the Terran noblewoman blinked her watery eyes, which were just beginning to adjust to the darkness. As the black void dulled into shades of grey, Beryl could just make out a large shadow, moving slowly as if through molasses.
"M-M-Mistress?" she called in a voice that quivered as violently as she was. All at once, a long, piercing shriek of fear and pain issued forth from the shadow, splitting the air and pounding excruciatingly into Beryl's skull. A wave of foreign magic, dark and powerful, drove the noblewoman to her knees. The pain caused by the unceasing cry forced her the rest of the way to the ground. Clapping her hands over her ears, Beryl huddled on the cold, hard ground, and screamed in agony, wanting nothing more than to drown out the terrible cry.
"Mistress!" she wailed, feeling tears leak out from beneath her eyelids. "Mistress, please help me!" Abruptly, the shriek died, and the hammering ache in Beryl's head eased. The rapidly waning power that hung in the air like smoke still stabbed at her, and she lie there in a quaking heap, whimpering like a hurt puppy.
"Great Urien!" a familiar, sarcastic voice exclaimed. "Lady Beryl, I had nearly forgotten that I called you to me! I was almost certain it would take longer for you to arrive than that!" Shaken, but sensing that she was safe Beryl opened one wet eye, then the other. The large shadow was still there, although its shape had changed slightly. It moved as slowly as ever, it's features unrecognizable in the dark.
"Mistress," Beryl whispered. "Where are you? I cannot see you." A heavy sigh issued from the shadow.
"Of course," Metallia muttered darkly, her words meant for herself, but said aloud for the girl's benefit. "Of course. Poor, pathetic mortal girl that she is, she cannot see without light. Well, I suppose I must indulge her." Suddenly, light flooded the room, sweeping into every corner. Beryl threw a hand over her face, shielding her eyes from the harsh glare. Another exaggerated sigh escaped the goddess' lips.
"I give you light, and it is too much. I should have known." In a moment, the light had dimmed to an acceptable brightness. Beryl could not help but scowl. She quite resented having her beloved mistress treat her as though she were a burden, a sniveling, whining child no one had wanted who had been dropped in her lap in spite of protests. Of course, she thought as she resisted the urge to wipe her nose on her sleeve, I likely do not look like much else, lying here upon the floor, shaking and sobbing. Blinking to clear the spots from her vision, Beryl struggled to stand on legs that were stiff and throbbing. Every muscle in her body ached with the effort of keeping her warm. Although the light was no longer too bright, the moisture in her eyes made it too difficult for her to see anything clearly. Shivering and hugging herself, Beryl rubbed away the wetness beneath her cold nose with fingers that were stiff and numb. A third sigh from Metallia.
"Light, warmth, and a handkerchief. Is their anything you mortals do not need?" Had she been less miserable, Beryl might have laughed. As it was, she could not even speak. Her jaws were clenched together too tightly to be pried apart. All at once, all the cold fled from her leaving only blessed, perfect warmth that flowed through her body as if carried by her blood. Beryl's jaw went slack, her aching muscles melting under the power of that soothing, healing warmth. Startled by the sudden removal of the stiffness in her legs, Beryl sagged toward the floor.
"Steady, my pet!" Metallia cautioned, catching her subordinate and pulling her upright. "Easy does the trick. Here, hold onto my arm." Beryl obeyed, steadying herself with the help of her mistress.
"Thank you," she whispered, wiping her eyes and nose.
"I should think that next time I call to you, you will at least bring a cloak with you," the goddess sneered, guiding Beryl's limp fingers to the white lace handkerchief she held in her hand. "Here. Use this." Obediently, the Terran noblewoman dabbed her eyes with the corner of the cloth, and blew her nose. Her vision cleared, and she saw Metallia standing beside her, amusement in her cruel eyes, and a derisive smile upon her lips. Beryl suddenly became aware of the lace handkerchief that she had just used. Taking it gingerly between two fingers, she held it at arms' length as if it were some disgusting vermin.
"Mistress, where did you get this?" she asked slowly. Metallia chuckled.
"Pet," she cooed mordantly, smoothing a hand over the girl's tangled red curls, "have you forgotten that I am a goddess?" Threading her fingers through her underling's flowing copper hair, the dark one began lightly massaging Beryl's scalp with her fingertips. Beryl sighed happily. She was still tired after having her sleep interrupted, and the goddess' hand was gentle and soothing. A yawn crept out from between Beryl's lips, in spite of her best efforts to keep it back. Exhaustion, warmth, and the tender hand of one she trusted.they were a deadly combination, but oh, they felt so good. A hot, stinging pain on her thumb and forefinger brought Beryl crashing back to reality. Crying out in surprise and fear, she hurled the flaming handkerchief to the floor, where it rapidly burned to ashes.
Metallia's cruel, scornful laughter brought a warm flush to Beryl's cheeks as, whimpering, she stuck her burnt fingers in mouth and sucked darkly.
"Never trust someone fully, my pet," the goddess chuckled mockingly. "They are sure to make you regret it." Beryl did not venture a reply. Rather, she examined her surroundings as she cautiously nursed her wounds. She had never seen her mistress' dwelling, and was curious in spite of herself.
It appeared that Metallia lived in some sort of cave. Outside, the land was buried in a think, glittering blanket of snow. The air was cold, and the sky was clear, its color a beautiful blend of purple and blue. It was the color of eternal twilight. Beryl nodded once to herself. It was no wonder, she thought, smiling wryly, that it had felt so cold upon her arrival. Just as Metallia had said, she would be certain to at least take a cloak next time she was called here-wherever 'here' was.
"Mistress," she began, turning away from the entrance to the cave, "Mistress, where are." Beryl trailed off, her voice failing her as her eyes widened in terror. Suddenly, she knew what had made the large shadow she had seen, and who had been the source of that terrible, terrible cry. At the back of the cave was a stone alter, before which Metallia stood, drinking deeply from an ebony goblet. Lying upon the alter was the naked body of a beautiful woman-or at least, she had been beautiful when she was alive. Now, though, her body lay in two neat pieces, her blood pouring forth, staining the stone beneath her a hideous red. Metallia swallowed every drop of the goblet's contents, and smacked her lips. Her eyes flashing hungrily, she thrust the goblet into the woman's upper half, filling her cup to the brim with thick, red blood. Again, she drank every drop, and again, she dipped back into the woman's body for more. Beryl screamed in fright, unable to stop herself. The businesslike manner in which her mistress satisfied her bloodlust was more than she could bear.
Metallia's black eyes flashed as she realized that her subordinate was watching her eat. As she filled her cup again, licking blood from her lips, she calmly shook her head.
"Look away, pet, if it frightens you to see me feeding." Beryl set her jaw, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath.
"I am not frightened, Mistress. I was simply startled." She knew Metallia did not believe her, but the goddess seemed too preoccupied with her meal to care. She merely shrugged, gulped the contents of her goblet, and filled it again. Beryl's stomach fought to rebel as she watched Metallia gorge herself on the woman's blood, but she held it at bay, forcing back the bile that lodged in her throat. She would not let her mistress think her weak- willed! As the goddess imbibed what had to be her tenth cup of bright ruby blood, she suddenly stopped and lowered her goblet. The expression upon her beautiful face was akin to that of someone who had just tasted a glass of lemonade and realized that the sugar had been forgotten. It seemed she had discovered an unpleasant surprise in her goblet of blood. Eager to rid herself of what Beryl suspected must have been a most repulsive flavor upon the goddess' tongue, Metallia put two fingers into her mouth, and extracted whatever it was offending her.
"Disgusting," she muttered, gulping another mouthful of blood and swishing it around her teeth to rid herself of the foul taste. "Absolutely disgusting." Baring her bloodstained teeth in a final sneer at the thing that had so offended her, the goddess flicked it away and forgot about it, returning to her meal. Beryl, though could not forget about it, most likely because it was at her feet that it landed with a squish. It was a vein. It was a purple, broken vein that lie at her feet in a tiny puddle of blood. Beryl could not fight her angry belly any longer. Sinking to her knees, the girl wretched and heaved and choked and vomited again and again. Several more veins were found in Metallia's cup. Each time, they landed before Beryl, and each time, she vomited upon them. Once, she dared to look up, and saw that Metallia had abandoned the cup, and was now soaking her hands in blood and licking them clean. Beryl lowered her head and thoroughly emptied her stomach of its contents.
At long last, Metallia sighed, and snapped her bloody fingers. Pale and sweating, Beryl weakly raised her head again, bracing herself for the violent scene and the wave of nausea that would be her punishment for viewing it. To her great relief, the body was gone, along with the blood, the veins, and the wet, viscous mess created by Beryl's own weakness. Metallia approached the trembling noblewoman, a cool, damp cloth in her clean hand. Kneeling before the girl, she slipped her fingers under her chin and lifted her head so that they could look one another in the eye. The goddess' face was tight with stern disapproval.
"I told you to look away," she scolded sharply, swiftly mopping Beryl's brow with the damp cloth. "Fool. Did you truly believe that your soul was so strong it could overpower the demands of its vessel?" Beryl, hot tears of shame stinging her eyes, did not respond. In truth, she had believed just that. She wanted so badly to love her mistress, to accept every part of her that she had believed it possible to overcome her natural fear of blood. She had failed. Beryl choked on a sob. Perhaps if someone were to look upon them at that moment, they would not know that Beryl had lost control, but she would know. Perhaps the mess itself was gone, but its sour flavor still coated her tongue thickly.
"I am sorry, Mistress," she whispered. Metallia sighed. She gestured quickly, and a second goblet appeared in her hand, filled with cool, clean water. She raised the goblet to Beryl's lips.
"Drink," she ordered curtly. Beryl wordlessly obeyed. The cool water washed the taste of her shame from her tongue, and soothed her belly. She felt her head clearing.
"I suppose I should not have told you to look away." Metallia murmured. "After all, if you are to help me tear Serenity from her throne, you cannot fear bloodshed. I think I shall call you to me any time that I feed, that you might watch, and free yourself of your fear." Beryl gulped, paling at the thought. In her mind's eye, she could still see the woman's broken body, the clean, white bones, the rich red blood flowing from both halves.she shuddered. If every one of her mistress' feedings was to be that way, she could certainly count on growing notably thinner in the next few weeks. But she was prepared to endure such torture if it would bring her closer to her mistress.
"That will do," she whispered. "Mistress, if you do not mind my asking, who was that?"
"Muta," the goddess answered without hesitation. "One of my dark sisters. Or at least, she used to be." Beryl was shocked.
"You fed upon one of your own?" she asked incredulously. The goddess shrugged.
"What else was I to do? The blood of a god or goddess is not so sweet as that of a mortal, but it is far more powerful. Speak not," she told Beryl, holding up a hand to hold off the question that she knew was upon her subordinate's lips. "Alone, I have not the power necessary to combat Serenity. No, I shall need more.much more."
"But.why?" Beryl ventured timidly. "You are a goddess. Surely your own power surpasses Serenity's." Metallia's eyes took on a faraway gleam, focusing somewhere over Beryl's head.
"Yes.but it is not enough.I require the power necessary to put her mind at ease. I must lure her away from her unease. Selene will interfere. I must be strong enough to create such a lullaby that will soothe both their hearts. Serenity must not know."
"But how did you kill her?" Beryl interrupted, put off by her mistress' cryptic rambling. "I did not think that goddesses, even worldly ones, could be killed." Metallia bared her teeth in a mocking smile, as if pleased that she had been asked that particular question.
"Ah, yes," she drawled. "How indeed would I kill one of my immortal sisters? Well, pet, that is exactly what I brought you here for. This is what I wished to show you." Getting to her feet, the goddess slithered over to the back corner of her dwelling, a place where the light of her magic did not touch. From that corner, Metallia took what appeared to be some sort of long weapon, and held it out for Beryl to examine.
"Come, my pet," she said, thrusting the weapon invitingly towards the girl. "Take it. Look it over. Tell me what you think of it." Swallowing her inhibitions, Beryl stood, approached her mistress, and took the weapon from her in one swift motion.
Its handle was long, narrow, and smooth, crafted from some kind of metal, the likes of which Beryl had never seen before. The noblewoman had to marvel at its excellent craft, and at the curved double blade atop it. The weapon was a long and threatening piece of work. Beryl was a fairly tall woman, but when she stood the weapon on its end, the tip of its larger blade overtook her by several inches. Hefting the weapon, Lady Beryl gave it several experimental swings, moving gracefully, in total harmony with the singing blade. In spite of its heavy blade, the weapon was light, and whistled through the air with deadly speed.
"Incredible," the girl breathed. "What is it?"
"The Silence Glaive," Metallia purred, dark eyes gleaming. "A token from the Promise Child's mother." Lady Beryl paused in mid-swing.
"Lady Saturn? But she died as a mortal."
"The natural order of things has a way of resisting changes in her routine. Normally, that is a problem for the dark gods, for our champion is Chaos. In the case of the Promise Child, however, Order has sold herself out. She could not accept that Lady Saturn was now a mortal, so she allowed her to leave a token to her daughter." The goddess snickered, smirking triumphantly. "If Serenity had not been so eager to escape the woman's chambers after her death, she might have found the Glaive and kept it for herself."
"We are lucky she left so quickly, are we not, Mistress?" Metallia shrugged.
"It matters not. Not as long as she takes it upon herself to raise the child. As long as that is so, the Glaive will bring about her end, for Nephrenia predicted that it was with the Silence Glaive that the Promise Child would tear Serenity from her throne." Beryl nodded wordlessly. It amazed her how easy Metallia made their conquest sound. Funny that she should be so worried someone would prevent it. Well, Beryl supposed that as long as no one knew of it, it would not be difficult.
"Um, Mistress?" she asked. "Once the Moon Kingdom is yours, what will become of Terra?" Metallia's gaze was sharp upon Lady Beryl.
"What do you wish to become of it? For I assume that because you ask, you already desire a specific fate to befall your home world."
"Yes, Mistress," Beryl admitted. "I wish to be its Queen. I wish to rule it."
"You would have that anyway, would you not? I know that you are betrothed to the Terran prince, Endymion."
"Yes," Beryl agreed. "And I wish to remain so." Metallia chuckled, a wicked grin curving her lips.
"How old is your prince now, one-and-twenty?" Beryl dipped her chin affirmatively, keeping one wary eye upon her mistress. "He is a handsome lad, they say." Beryl felt color creep up her neck.
"Y-yes," she stammered. "I.he is handsome."
"You are fond of him, pet." That was a statement, not a question. Beryl lifted her chin.
"I am," she said without hesitation, "but that is not the only reason why I wish to become Queen of Terra. When I am Queen of Terra, I can show people that the dark gods are not who their history books and the light gods' priests tell them you are. I can show them what is true. In the meantime, I can find people of importance and skill, and turn them into loyal followers for you. I can make things different. You know that I can, Mistress."
"Yes, my pet," the goddess purred. "I know that you can. As I have said, that is one of the reasons why I chose you to serve me. Never fear. You will take your place as Queen of Terra, and your Prince Endymion will reign at your side." In that moment, had she not known better, Beryl could have hugged the goddess Metallia. As it was, she simply smiled gratefully.
"Thank you, Mistress. You will not be disappointed."
"I know I will not be, my pet." Before Beryl quite realized it, the goddess had plucked the Silence Glaive from her fingers, and with a wave of her hand, sent the noblewoman back to her bed. As Beryl felt sleep overtake her, Metallia's voice echoed in her mind. Sleep now, my pet. I shall call you to me again soon.