Eline

Each strike of the hammer sent sparks flying. They whipped around in the air, wreathing Gosta with a dangerous corona of flame. It didn’t bother the weathered old man, but it still sent Rhea’s mind alight with wonder. Ever since the war for Ourcian had begun Gosta was constantly living inside the forge, and Rhea was refining her technique to try to attain the unmatched craftsmanship of her mentor. It was even rumored that Eline herself took on a corporeal form to speak with him about his weaponry and armor. That alone gave Gosta the recognition of a king- and it was this recognition that made speaker Morlan envious. Regardless, Rhea was bound and determined to match Gosta’s prowess in the forge.

With each flick of her wrist, another loud clang echoed through the forge. It was enough to send the nearby chickens fleeing into their coop. Rhea wiped her brow, setting the hammer down on the table and looking over once again to Gosta. He was deeply enveloped in his work. His bushy brows were furrowed- nearly hiding amongst all the lines in his forehead. He was dripping sweat as well, and she watched with humor as one droplet made its way from his barren head to the dark, fluffy mustache that wouldn’t stop wiggling from his concentration. Rhea let out snort, which didn’t go unheard by the stout smithy. His green eyes bore down unto her, and she subconsciously backed up until she was against the wall.

“If you didn’t spend so much time watchin’, you coulda learned a thing or two,” he grumbled.

Gosta paused to wipe his hands against his apron. He reached over and tossed a few more coals into the forge, and watched as they turned from a deep black to a fluorescent orange-white. The crate of Elinite that sat next to him seemed to glow in anticipation- as if the goddess herself had imbued them to know of their destiny. It normally was a deep purple color, but in the presence of Gosta it seemed to glow a faint violet color.

“How else am I supposed to learn uncle? You expect me to be able to meld raw Elinite into a sabre with no practice?” Rhea knew the taunting in her voice was unnecessary. Throughout his entire life, Gosta had been nothing but kind to her. Though sometimes she wondered if his mind was made of actual coal.

“Ha! You’d think by now you would know what to do with it,” he snorted, his accent thick.

Gosta had a point, Rhea had been learning the trade for years. Eighteen years in fact, minus a few months. Rhea had arrived when she was a young girl, nearly five moons old. At twenty-three moons she should be nearing Gosta’s level of work.

“You know I struggle uncle. The ore does not like me nearly as much as you,” Rhea frowned.

“It’s because you’re uptight lass. You gotta loosen up. Eline takes this seriously, not us.” He didn’t look up from his work as he spoke. Instead, he gently mixed the ores as they began to melt under the tremendous heat. The crucible itself was already glowing as bright as the sun.

“You know I wasn’t born to do this. This isn’t my calling.” It was at that comment that Gosta put his work down, and turned to face his niece. Leaning against the table, he let out a tremendous sigh. His facial features softened, and he offered Rhea a sympathetic smile.

“You may not ‘ave been born for it, but you are learnin’. That’s all I can ask of you.” He gestured for Rhea, who in three quick steps found herself in the warm embrace she had come to love. It wasn’t often that he offered physical support, so Rhea relished it. Even despite the high temperatures and humid environment that made them smell like the local fish market. “Don’t be so down on yourself lass. You know I love ya,” He whispered quietly in her ear before offering her a small kiss on her cheek.

The two separated and Gosta immediately returned to the fire, stoking it and making sure his ores were melting evenly. “If you want, take the day off. You earned it. I can finish the orders on me own,” without another look he waved her off dismissively.

Stepping out of the tent Rhea basked in the breeze as it swept across her face. Her brown hair, which had been cemented to her forehead by sweat, began to gently flow with the wind. Clouds loomed overhead but it was still a particularly sunny day in the region of Eline, and in the distance she could see Ourcian peeking out just above the horizon.

How could she have known that the mountain, which stood as a beacon of hope in her childhood, would have become such a place of dissonance. Even now she could see tendrils of smoke unfurl into the air. Each limb of it trying to snuff out the light. She couldn’t even begin to imagine how suffocating the air there must be.

A hand touched her shoulder and pulled her out of her thoughts as a thin spindly blonde bounced into her view.

"There ya are Rhea! I thought ya’d never leave ole’ Gosta! Come, I have something to show you.” Her grin was as wide as her face. But Rhea simply offered an unreadable expression as she gently pried the girl’s hand from her shoulder.

“Nenu please, you know he needs help in his old age.” Rhea’s voice was firm but kind as she reminded her friend of the dire straits their country was in.

“A course I do. But Rhea, you’re gonna work yourself to death,” Nenu shook her head and grabbed Rhea’s hand and pulled the young blacksmith through the crowd of folks. The longer they walked, the thicker the groups got. It became extremely difficult to navigate the dirt path as they made their way toward the cathedral.

“Where are we going? Why are so many people here?” Abruptly the duo burst through the front of the crowd, and it became obvious as to why so many had gathered.

There, in her full glory, stood Lady Eline in her corporeal form.

She was dressed to the nines, as was the expectation. She was laden with violet and white silks which daintily draped her shoulders. The bodice of her dress laced uptight as it expanded into an equally opulent skirt of white and purple taffeta. Her long black hair was pulled back into a basic ponytail, which was accented with lattice braids. It made her green eyes seem more intense as she stood before the crowd.

“How did Gosta not mention this?” Rhea was aghast, as normally Eline herself would announce to Gosta beforehand about her arrival to the city. Gosta acted as both blacksmith and mouthpiece for Eline and her work. Rhea scanned the crowd, but could not spot her mentor among them. Nenu was also too wrapped up in the goddess's presence to notice Rhea’s discomfort.

“Children, I come to you today bringing news of a traitor among you.” Her voice wasn’t loud, but it echoed across the crowd and commanded attention.

Before another gasp could escape the mouths of the masses, Eline tugged on a rope she had been holding behind her back. From the dark abyss of the cathedral, a man came stumbling out with a burlap sack covering his face. When he fell to his knees next to Eline, she pulled off the bag with disgust. Almost as if she was discarding a piece of rubbish. As the man’s face was revealed to the crowd, Nenu fell to the ground in a heap of sobs. Rhea was frozen for a moment in utter shock.

Brigand, Nenu’s beloved and the town tavern keep, lay exposed and charged with a crime that was only punishable by death. Nenu cried out that it was a mistake only to be lashed at with a whip of violet silk. It struck her cheek, leaving a fine line of blood dripping from her face. Rhea grabbed Nenu and held her tightly against her chest, hiding Nenu’s face from Brigand.

“Silence,” Eline’s voice was cold and void of emotion. “You are blinded by your ignorant love. He had been harboring Lyre’s devoted.” As if on cue, another four unknown men and women were led out of the cathedral. Each pushed to their knees behind Brigand. The look on his face told all- he was guilty. His eyes hid fear, and the tremble in his legs made it seem as if he was quaking. Brigand didn’t even attempt to defend himself, as Eline already knew everything. Inviting discourse would only lead to a prolonged demise.

“May this be a warning to you all,” With a swift movement the same violet whip that had cut through Nenu’s skin beheaded the five knelt on stage. The heads rolled off their bodies in a sickening harmony. Each body fell soon after until five large thumps had been heard.

Rhea forced Nenu’s face to her chest, refusing to let her friend see the carnage that had been wrought on the marble steps.

“Oh, may as well make them useful in death no? How fitting then to force them into the very thing they despised.” With a snap of her fingers each body part turned into solid Elinite. They were crystallized into purple ore in mere seconds.

As she cleaned the blood from her silk, Eline did not look up to address the crowd. “Gosta, your shipment is here,” she said simply. And in a puff of smoke the goddess was gone just as quickly as she had arrived.

The town was left reeling as they quickly began to repopulate their stalls and gossip about the events that had just transpired. Nenu was still sobbing uncontrollably as Rhea stroked her hair and tried to reassure her that everything was alright. Eline wasn’t known for her kindness, but this execution was very different from her normal trials. It seemed the war not only changed the people but the pantheon itself. Eline had become a cruel and distant mistress to her subjects, a downfall that Rhea was not too keen on.

Rhea ushered Nenu to a nearby alleyway, where upon arrival the two immediately collapsed. Nenu’s tears had stopped, and in their place were choppy, wheezing breaths as she struggled to maintain composure. Rhea simply cradled her friend until the convulsions began to subside, and all that remained was the blank façade of a defeated woman. They continued to sit in utter silence, neither of them daring to break the tension that cocooned them.

“Brig is dead,” Nenu finally muttered.

Defeat ensnared every fiber of Nenu’s body. Her soul was shrouded by loss. Even her voice quaked with unshed tears as she played mindlessly with a lock of her hair.

“He’s dead.” She repeated simply, and without another word got to her feet.

Rhea only watched as her friend melted into the sea of bodies, and she could only hope that the girl was strong enough to not do something stupid. In the meantime, there was the ordeal of the “shipment” that needed to be addressed. Cleaning herself up as much as she could, Rhea made her way back to the forge.

(Author's Note: This is a short story based on a novel I have in the works for the future, just thought I would share this tidbit as it was written in the beginning stages of the novel process!)