"My siblings and I were lucky that our parents hadn't been religious folk. They believed in the power of the Sun and Rain to sustain the crops, like most people, but didn't ever pray or venerate them in any way. Looking back on it now, I think that was seen as a sign of ingratitude, at the time, but it was fortunate for my family that it was so. Otherwise, I would be looking back at you with yellow irises right now. Fallen to the Sun, like most farmer families.
We moved past the nausea that followed the Parting and thought, for a short time, that everything was fine. We lived in the countryside, you see. Our closest neighbor lived a day's travel away, and the nearest settlement was twice as far. We didn't hear of the arrival of the Gods until we saw the smoke rising above Ajon-Khall.
It was inevitable, perhaps, just part of the order of our world, that the strongest rose to power, swiftly and implacably.
I have yet to hear an account of their arrival. We assume, for a lack of a better explanation, that they emerged from the rift in the middlelands. But who knows? I wasn't there to witness it. I don't think any human saw. We only know that the crack formed, and they walked among us the very next day.
Well, I say 'walked', but maybe that isn't entirely accurate. Not all Gods have legs, as you've seen, or choose them as their preferred way to move around. The Wind has wings, for example.
In short, they were here, and they were quick to claim their long-honored grounds of worship. Temples had stood in their names for centuries, and the Gods were eager to step up to their roles, to start issuing commands and claiming their servants through prayer. There was much for them to do, initially.
The Sun temple was a rather culturally significant landmark in Ajon-Khall, and the grandest of the temples, with the biggest following. Devotees would regularly travel from all around Yriaa to pay tribute to their God there. So the Sun already possessed a strong base of supporters before he'd even emerged, and they had developed an almost monarchic system to rule themselves. His was always the greatest and most well organized religion.
That, combined with the convenient location of their sacred grounds, makes it seem almost predestined that he would rise to claim the throne the way he did.
Shortly after the Parting, Sun servants, under the command of their delegated ruler Archbishop Achedel, took the city. They set fires strategically in the outer edges of the city, targeting those most vulnerable first, and, as they made their way closer to the center of power that was the castle, they demanded surrender in exchange for the survival of the people. King Artlan granted it.
I think they meant to display their strength in one final flare of cruelty, for they did not stop the destruction immediately after that. The Sun himself walked the streets of Ajon-Khall, and marched right through the siege walls of the castle as if they did not exist. Arrows went through him and out the other side, some say, and many men died attempting to pierce his glowing hot flesh. The heat and brightness ended their lives well before they could even try.
They killed the nobility and any who would not submit to his will, of course, and soon had a fresh new capital city named after the Sun, one occupied only by those who supported their cause or chose to succumb to it."
Leroh had never seen the ocean before. He hadn't been prepared for the sense of wonder it would awake in him, and the shame he would feel about that. He knew the waters of the coast and rivers of Yriaa represented a danger to him and his people, that no good could come from straying too close to them, but he could not contain his curiosity at the sight.
Water, impossibly infinite, was all around him. An irregular line in the horizon was the only hint of Yriaa left to see, and Leroh felt guilty at the hint of awe that awoke in his heart. The beautiful blue of the waters, the sound of the waves and Sea birds, the smell of salt and Sea life in the air, the underlying silence beneath the unobtrusive sounds, he somehow enjoyed it all.
The unwelcome feeling was fleeting, however. The idea that the Sea God himself might be swimming under the surface, that he might decide to do them harm, cut through all the nonsense and brought him back to reality as smoothly as he had fallen into the fantasy.
He tried never to think of the deities, especially not a single one in a concentrated line of thought. He'd been taught from an early age to pretend that the Gods simply did not exist, but, as he grew into a man, the warnings became more comprehensive. Prayer was an inconveniently abstract concept, and one such as himself ran the risk of accidentally reaching out to a God if he was not careful, so he was to avoid extensive talk or pondering of any specific deity.
But he could not help picturing the Sea's appearance at that moment. His mind took him in directions he did not care for, bringing images forth to his imagination. The God was large, he'd heard, with a tail. Would he be beautiful, like the siren? Would he behave somewhat like a regular person, like the Mantis's God had done?
Leroh had no desire to find out. But, alas, he would. Soon.
He'd never intended to meet a siren in the flesh, either, but had been exposed to that as well. She had been so lovely, so gentle. That had knocked him off balance, and made him aware of his own carelessness and stupidity. He'd imagined sirens as vile monsters of the deep, with slimy flesh and fish-like qualities. Their tails had sounded repulsive to him, when he'd heard the whispered gossip from Tem and Kird. But nothing could have been further from the truth.
She was a radiant beauty, almost blinding in her charm and elegance. He could now understand the real danger to sirens: they were irresistible. No man could look at one, hear her talk, and push her away. No one susceptible to their allure was safe from their drowning arms, when their mere presence was enough to make one instantaneously fall in love.
Leroh could not remember a time when he hadn't been wary of the water for the risk of the Sea God's sirens. When he was a boy, he hadn't even had enough knowledge of the world to understand their motives, but he'd known not to approach the Nell river unaccompanied to avoid being dragged under the surface and drowned by the odd enchantresses.
It was a woman's job, in Pirn, to deal with the fishermen on the river. Or a man's job to risk his life fishing there for himself. Like most things in Yriaa, the choice was a bad one regardless.
The Sea God had a hold of the waters that sustained life for all Yriaans, those sworn to him and otherwise. It was a brave, difficult decision to remain free of his control for exactly that reason. His sirens inhabited the shores, rivers, and lakes, and an unsworn person would always run the risk of attack if they approached that tempting source of food and sustenance. The only other option, then, was to pay for the certainty of safety.
The Sea managed all trade pertaining to his territory with traditionalist communities, and benefited from them in that way. As long as they stood firm in their desire for freedom, the price of Sea food was a steep one. Steep enough to sway some to compliance, or just to harshly hinder those who chose to stand their ground.
Many risked it, naturally, and came away from the waters unscathed. His father had taken Leroh fishing at the Nell, once, a year before the raid of Pirn took him from his family. Leroh had been five years old, and his father had insisted that he experience the hazards of their way of life first hand at least once at an early age. He believed that a deeply rooted fear would strengthen his man's instincts to protect and defend, to be wary of the world around him.
Nothing bad had happened and, to his father's misfortune, the experience had only taught Leroh that the river was a fun and interesting place. They'd kept an eye out for unusual shapes in the water the whole time, but hadn't sighted any sirens. They did, however, see a big fish that Leroh found fascinating. It was exciting to try to catch it, and, despite the fact that they failed at that, Leroh had come away from the day out with his father with a smile and a secret wish to return.
As an adult, those feelings quickly dissipated, however. He never gave in to that impulse to go back to the Nell, especially after hearing of a nearby siren sighting from a terrified Kird, and his interest in the water was successfully stifled.
Until Teela decided to bring him to Okedam.
The stubborn girl who so recklessly handled Leroh's life in her hands now stood and walked over to the railing at the bow of the ship. She'd been sitting by his side, curled into a ball to try to keep the cold Wind at bay. When she'd assumed the protective position, the Mantis had wordlessly taken off her own cloak and passed it to Teela. His sister had tried to argue, but the woman was sturdy as a rock against her objections.
In truth, the Mantis had behaved rather like a rock in more ways than that, so far into their voyage. Aside from the succinct movements it had taken to remove her cloak and deposit it at his sister's slipper-clad feet, the woman had barely moved. Her shoulders were squared and her back ramrod straight as she sat on the wooden planks of the deck beside Leroh. She'd kept her eyes firmly fixed on the horizon and her hands clenched into white-knuckled fists on her lap.
But when Teela got to her feet and dared to take a few steps forward to reach the railing at the front of the vessel to tentatively look out at the open water ahead, the Mantis moved her head to follow her with her predatory gaze.
Teela's coarse and sturdy brown skirts billowed in the relentless Wind. The simple dress had initially belonged to his mother, and it gave him a sudden jolt of panic to think about what she might say to see her daughter standing there, looking out at the endless Sea that housed the very God himself, surrounded by God Servants, and her son doing nothing. She would beat them both bloody, then banish them to their bedchamber without supper for a few days straight. And Leroh, oddly enough, just wanted it to happen already. He wanted her to mete out her punishment so he could move past their misadventure, even if what it took was pain and humiliation. He just wanted it done and over with, to be able to finally sleep and breathe in peace.
Three sailors, around Leroh's age, had wandered closer while he'd been worrying about the future. They were smiling and putting on a poor show of appearing disinterested in his sister as they pretended to study the lines and knots around her.
He saw two things at once that he found concerning. The Mantis cocked her head, ever so slightly, in their direction, like a cat catching a glimpse of a mouse. And Teela straightened her spine, and distributed her weight evenly on her spread feet. She had subtly adjusted her stance to a more easily defensible position, as she would have done right before Mother dealt her a blow.
Would his sister embarrass herself, and him, by engaging in some argument or fight with the men? Surely she could not believe that they would react well to her inappropriate and childish manner of interacting with strangers. Would she attempt to warn them away, or reject them before they'd even expressed any interest in her? She could not be that forward, Leroh thought. She had to know that behaving like a proper girl was the only acceptable response to their attentions.
But worse was the thought that the Mantis might decide to hurt the poor lads, simply for showing harmless curiosity in a young woman loosely wandering about their place of work. Teela was rather plain, in his opinion, but he wouldn't go so far as to call her ugly, and sailors who spent most of their time away from home would probably have lower standards of beauty than he, he decided. It was only natural that they'd be interested and want to share a moment with a woman when given a chance.
"Good day. My name's Ennet," one of them said to Teela with a little smile, and his fellows chuckled at his awkward introduction. "You enjoyin' the view, miss?"
"Yes. Thank you," Teela said curtly.
"Well, lemme show ya something 'bout our glorious Sea, then. It's just over there, miss." As he spoke, he took the freedom to grab his sister by the shoulder and turn her around so she could look out at the open water. "See there, in the distance. Just over there, look."
He was pointing with one hand and still clasping her loosely with the other, and if it had not been for his companions' obvious looks and pinched lips to contain their laughter, he might have missed the subtle way the first sailor positioned his body so his lower half aligned with Teela's, bringing his front decidedly too close to her posterior. Leroh strained to look more closely, certain that he had misread the stranger's intention, that he might have done it inadvertently, too distracted by the conversation to notice the compromising position of their bodies. But what he observed proved the opposite to be true, as the man gave an almost imperceptible push forward and brought his groin closer to direct contact with Teela's body.
The two sailors flanking him could not contain their laughter then, having seen the movement as clearly as Leroh had, and bent over with their hands over their mouths. A jest among friends, it seemed, one at his sister's expense.
Leroh had no time to process any of what unfolded immediately after, his eyes the only part of him quick enough to follow the chain of events.
A thin black strand of fleshy leather he'd become all too familiar with appeared around the sailor's neck. It looked uncomfortably tight for an instant, then his head was pulled back fully in a twist that he could not possibly survive. His chin briefly touched the back of his neck, his eyes flew up into his skull and showed only white for an instant, and then he fell to the deck of the ship like an arrow-shot deer. After one laborious breath, he stilled entirely.
By then, the deadly protrusion had retreated back into the Mantis's hand as if it had never been.
"Ennet!" his fellows screamed and fell to their knees to assess his condition. But he was dead. "What have you done? What was that?" one of them screamed at the Mantis.
"Teela. Come." She spoke calmly to his sister, and Teela ran the short few paces back to the Mantis immediately with an expression of dread that Leroh had never seen on her face.
"What's happenin' here?" the captain demanded, arriving swiftly at the sound of yelling.
"She killed him! She killed him with a-a thing that came out her finger! Who are you, you bitch? Who do you serve?"
"You come aboard my ship and attack my men?" The captain advanced on the Mantis, a deep frown quickly forming on his brow.
She only looked him in the eye for a moment, then splayed her hands out in the air in front of herself. The terrible, skinny black limbs seemingly materialized outside of her body, protruding from underneath all ten of her fingernails like short, wiggling tails. She extended them no longer than a hand's length, as if only to display them to her adversaries. Then she spoke in a controlled, loud, and slightly raspy voice. "I have ten of these. And I count nine of you."
"You think you can murder my man for nothin' aboard my own ship and we'll be afraid–"
"Your God gave you the ability to survive underwater, captain. Mine gave me the power to kill. Instantly. I suggest you get back to your duties now, if you want the men aboard your ship alive so badly."