ACT II: Comment j'ai récupéré

Pain.

My first conscious sensation after amaranthine oblivion - agony as though my body burned in searing flame from the crown of my head to the tips of my toes. I could not move or speak. Baptized in a lake of fire, I wondered how I ever endured such terrible pain. Each moment seemed to fill my entire life, my entire existence. I could sense nothing of the outside world, consumed by the torturous agony within my body that threatened to fill me completely. A tiny, rational corner of my mind alone remained dispassionate amid the anguish, submerged by the mind-blanking pain. How I longed for sweet death to release me!

The magic of the Goddess' Gate had collapsed around me as I immersed myself in the aetherially-charged water and now charged mana permeated every pore of my body, incinerating me inside out.

My pain lingered eternal.

I thought it would never end. In my few lucid moments as I drifted in and out of consciousness, I would have given anything to be spared such horrible torture. How long I lay there I shall never know - my mind shrinks from the recollection of it, remembering only my fervent wish to be free of the fathomless heat.

Slowly, imperceptibly, the burning aether ebbed.

A blissfully cool and soothing liquid entered through my charred lips, one small mouthful at a time. Immediately I felt the horrible agony abate where it kissed my throat and spread into my stomach, abating the fervent heat that roiled in my wracked flesh. I slept in relieved repose for a few hours before awakening again to the caustic magical flames burning themselves out on my body. Each time I was fed the same palliative nectar and experienced immediate relief. Each time the inferno in my body diminished slowly and reluctantly, unwilling to stop consuming such a succulent host. Delirious dreams haunted what little rest I managed to hoard for myself. Mirages of Merrimont and Renia, of Louelle and Theraveria, blurred together endlessly in phantasmagorical dances that my mind struggled to grasp.

I do not know how long I slept and woke and battled against the pain, nor how long I teetered between hallucinations and fever dreams before I gradually regained clarity of mind. In my conscious moments I slowly became aware that I rested on a soft white bed filled with feathers and covered by gentle silk sheets. The ever-present sensation of self-consuming mana had faded to a dull, almost comfortable ember by the time I finally opened my heavy eyes and saw the world as a blurry haze of indistinct shapes and colors around me. A spoonful of the sweet liquid touched my lips again and I greedily drank it in, unable to see who patiently fed me so.

"Hail and be welcome back to the world of the living," I heard a soft feminine voice greet me indistinctly.

I tried to speak but no words came out of my mouth, only a high-pitched mewl manifesting instead. I lay in bed robbed of sight and sound, accompanied instead by the throbbing pain of my immolated body and the cool sweet milk dripping between my lips. My aching limbs refused to move beyond a pathetic rustling of the sheets.

"You are still very weak," the voice informed me. "You will need time to heal. Set your mind at ease, for you reside under the care of Merphomenee, goddess of tragedy."

The goddess who had kindly tutored me in magic and mind, and yet whose arrival in my city I had helped thwart. Even now her servants cared for me? I knew not what to think of this arrangement and my tired mind absolved itself of such dilemmas when it sank back into oblivious repose. I lay weeks in the same bed, cared for by servants who changed my sheets and washed my body while I haltingly rallied. My primary caregiver spoke with me from time to time as I convalesced; from her I gathered that I had arrived more dead than alive in the palm of Merphomenee's hand immediately after her failed attempt to enter Europa, victim of my own desperate decision to leap into the gate. The lifegiving ambrosia so instrumental in soothing my agony was milk from Merphomenee's own breast which she wrung from her bosom every day, its miraculous curative properties working to heal my grievous burns. My hearing returned first and my sight more slowly, but they did return. I saw the world through indistinct, blurred shadows and the scent of incinerated flesh remained constant in my nostrils. My hair had been burned off and my skin heavily charred all over from my immersion, to the point I resembled one of those pitiable soldats de guerre from the Brabantine wars who were disfigured by the cannon.

Let me pause here, faithful reader, that I might describe the retreat where I recovered for so long. Sited on a high cliff overlooking the vast azure ocean, this temple had been built out of white concrete according to the rudiments of Illyrican architecture: broad, sloping roofs supported by many circular columns upon which ivy and creepers flowered. Arches too; the Illyrican arch is a distinct facet of their style, built to withstand tremendous weight. I am told that Merphomenee loved to see nature, hence the many flowers and trees which decorated all of her edifices. There were scant walls and few doors, most of the weight of the roof being supported by the ubiquitous columns and arches, so the fresh sea breeze often wafted through the entire temple, and the polished tiled floors could become quite wet during rainfall. I heard the plaintive wailing of seagulls and the rolling ocean waves every hour of the day during the entirety of my recovery. The salt sea breeze endeared itself to us as a constant companion, vying for presence with the fresher and drier winds from the lee. A nearby village of shepherds and fishermen supplied us with food for our repasts and wine for our libations. The temperature remained pleasantly warm through all seasons save for the winter, and young maidens wearing white stolas attended to me.

I realized that Merphomenee briefly visited every day once I had recovered enough awareness to remain awake for hours at a time. In mornings her arrival would be heralded by the shaking of the ground under her ponderous feet, each mighty step causing the temple to tremble in rhythm beneath her stride with increasing violence as she approached. All of the servants would tidy themselves and hasten outdoors to kneel before her. She asked of them questions in a low voice, speaking indistinct words that I could not decipher from my bed. Then she would depart and the thunderous quaking footsteps slowly recede while the serving girls returned with her nourishing milk to feed me. I confess that I did not know what to make of her presence during this time; being accustomed to her elegance and poise while inhabiting the body of Renia Sundalicia, Merphomenee's sudden change in scale struck me as orgulous and terrifying. Her first visits made me tremble like a mouse hiding from a cat, fearful of a goddess whom my imagination convinced me must be like a stern statue of impossible scale.

From Merphomenee's priestesses I learned much of this strange new world into which I had been carried. No one of them had heard of Theraveria or Europa; instead, we dwelled in a land named Illyrica, ruled directly by the goddess, and many surrounding kingdoms whose sovereigns held their thrones at her pleasure. They told me that Merphomenee was the daughter of an ancient titan named Moneta and had reigned since time immemorial, and they worshiped an entire pantheon of divinities whom they supposed to govern their lives. Illyricans kept slaves instead of servants, but unlike Theraverian servants a slave was considered a member of the family by Illyricans. They did not lather themselves with soap when bathing, anointing their skin with fragrant oil instead. When the Illyricans dined, they reclined on couches and carpets instead of sitting at table as the Theraverians did. I learned to fold and wear the stola like the Illyrican maidens and to use their cosmetics of kohl, oils, and myrrh. The women of the temple showed me how to make the symbol of the mask with my fingers, their sign for warding off evil. In technology and engineering this world seemed to be much more primitive than the one I had left, for the Illyricans did not use gunpowder, steel, or the printing press. In magical artifice however they proved greatly superior to the Theraverians, making liberal use of orichalcum, mythril, aqua vitae and magical reagents than even the best schools in Louelle, and they boasted a much more profound understanding of magic which was disseminated through their temples of education. It pained me greatly to discover that my prolonged suffering had burned away my ability to use magic. All of my painstaking education at Merphomenee's hands had been for naught; I would never conjure even the most insignificant wisp of warmth again, so severe had my injuries proved.

Once I could totter on my feet with assistance, the sharp pains notwithstanding, the serving girls brought me to a bath in the temple which they had filled with Merphomenee's milk, still warm from her breast that morning. Its soothing touch immediately made my pain abate and I gratefully immersed myself deeply. They bid me remain for the entire day, so I let her milk permeate through every pore of my ruined skin and bathed until sundown. By some divine property her milk did not congeal, remaining fluid however much I moved in it. When I at last emerged from the bath my flesh had healed greatly, the charred scars of my skin sloughing off to reveal soft, healthy tissue underneath. I anointed my eyes in her milk as well and almost immediately regained clarity of vision. Twice more I bathed in her milk and ever since my skin has been free from all blemish, soft as a dove's breast, pale as the finest jade, unmarred by any wrinkle of time. My fair skin aroused a great deal of wistful envy amongst my companions, who all esteemed pure white skin. I have been described as a pretty or lovely girl before in letters from Louelle; bathing in her milk made me far more beautiful, enough that I might ruin a kingdom, if my reader will pardon my immodesty in such matters of judgment. My golden hair began to slowly regrow as well. Merphomenee's daily visits to the temple ended after my third bath.

By such measures I came to recover completely from my ordeal. I also came to know the priestesses of the temple: Junia Cornelia was the daughter of a merchant, Claudia Dia Incipita the sister of a thespian and an aspiring playwright herself, Camilla Vera a slave from the Isles of Cassus sold into the service of Merphomenee who had decided to remain even after her debt had been discharged, Maecia Livia Lucavia a shepherdess who helped tend the flocks of the temple, and lastly a small, waifish, brown-haired, doe-eyed girl of delicate constitution named Platina Titiana. Platina became closest to me of all the maidens and we talked a great deal in those idle days of leisure and convalescence. She often read manuscripts to me as I lay in bed or accompanied me on my strolls, and the priestesses ritually sacrificed a bull to the goddess every week. She knew Merphomenee well and told me much about the goddess, leaving me with a burning question:

Why did the Illyricans identify Merphomenee as the goddess of tragedy?

For a princess who grew up in landlocked Theraveria where the nearest seas lay hundreds of leagues beyond the nation's borders, being kept near the boundless ocean was both a wonder and a joy. Platina and I often descended down the long stone stairwell to the beach where I would wander aimlessly for hours at a time, holding a parasol to protect my skin from the sun and feeling the soft sand beneath my feet or splashing in the briny waters. I had stopped on the beach to admire seashells with Platina one day when I asked her how she had come to serve Merphomenee.

"I was not always this way," Platina explained to me. "The name my parents gave to me when I was born was Manlius Superbus Artebanus, for I was a boy, a prince of a territory known as Gasca. But one year the tribute that my nation brought to the goddess did not satisfy her, so she deposed my parents as sovereigns and took me away as her slave. I had been raised since birth to rule Gasca; now I would rule nothing while Merphomenee remade me to her liking. I was immediately severed from all contact with other men and given to a sisterhood of priestesses with strict instructions that I was to be treated and trained and addressed as a maid, with harsh punishment if I ever tried to rebel against their strictures. I too drank and bathed in the rivers of her breast. In one year I had lost my beard and become as slender and supple-limbed as any maiden, neither man nor woman. When the goddess judged me sufficiently ready for her purposes, she took me and placed me into her womb. There in the most intimate of embraces she unraveled and reforged my body, removing the last vestiges of my masculinity and changing me into a woman in mind and flesh. I have been her priestess and vessel ever since." Platina viewed her former life and home with detached indifference, although she did listen with a sympathetic ear during the many times I sighed for Theraveria. Whether she enjoyed her newfound femininity or simply saw no use in dwelling on the past I never did discover.

I, by contrast, longed greatly for my past. Theraveria, oh Theraveria, how my heart ached for you. How I missed the familiar bustle of Louelle in the day and the elegant activity of the night! The goddess' slaves listened in rapt attention as I described my homeland for them, filled with stories of endless balls, elegant dances with handsome men, lavish parties, grandiose symphonies and storied plays. I discovered too that Illyrica had its own tradition of theater which the goddess encouraged and patronized. Our life settled into an idyllic routine of storytelling and plays in this paradise near the ocean with Merphomenee's slaves attending to my needs and desires, save only that agreeable male companionship was wanting.

Platina knew more of Merphomenee's mind than most women for the goddess inhabited her as a vessel when she wished to hold converse more privately to her slaves. "She will not leave you here indefinitely, Summerlyn, for you have captured her imagination," she once told me. "She must know that your heart pines for your beautiful Theraveria, and you may yet find your way back to your world."

"And that is what concerns me," I admitted to my Illyrican friend, "she nearly succeeded in reaching Theraveria once already." Briefly during my recuperation I had pondered the possibility that Renia Sundalicia had been wrong and that I had made a horrible mistake when I stymied Merphomenee. The goddess' slave girls quickly assured me that I had not, that her gentle mien and amiable exterior notwithstanding, her favored pastime lay in suddenly visiting some hapless city and ruining it. Platina told me horrific stories of the heartbreaking misery in Gasca when Merphomenee descended upon her people such that any fair maiden would quail to hear. "Why do you suffer such a cruel mistress?" I cried aghast.

But Platina merely shook her head indifferently. "Foreign princess, an appeal to the storm for clemency would serve you better than to defy the goddess. We are mere pieces in a game she plays and unable to surpass our roles." Again and again I would hear such resigned sentiments during my time spent in Illyrica. Her priestesses clearly revered and dreaded her both, but few loved her.

As a consequence, I did not wish to face Merphomenee when she finally returned one evening to see me after several months of rest in her temple. The slave girls assembled outside to kneel before her as the rumor of her footsteps shook the earth while I remained within, obstinately refusing to go. She sent Maecia back in. "Her Divine Grace summons you," the Illyrican priestess informed me.

"Tell her that I am not ungrateful for her hospitality, but I decline to courteously greet a woman who had such wicked designs on my kingdom," I replied peremptorily.

Maecia's face immediately turned ashen. "Summerlyn, you will anger her!"

"What of it?" I asked bitterly. "She has already taken everything from me, to perish beneath her foot would be a blessing."

"That is but the beginning, foolish guest! She will swallow your soul and condemn you to horrible suffering in her stomach, such terrible agony as to make you long for the mercy of your immolated flesh! For ten thousand years - ten times ten thousand! - you will languish as a victim of her appetite bitterly but vainly repentant as untold pain wracks your soul endlessly! Did you think the pain of crossing the gate unbearable? She will subject you to far worse! With no respite or succor!"

"S-she can do that?" I stammered, suddenly uncertain of my defiance. Her power extended even beyond death? Some women flatter themselves brave enough to endure, but not I!

"And much worse besides!" Maecia insisted with a tremor in her voice. Wide-eyed with fear, I allowed her to take my hand and nearly drag me out of the temple to see the goddess.

If Renia Sundalicia's appearance in Louelle had been striking, Merphomenee's could only be described as overwhelming. She stood hundreds of paces tall, her hair a beautifully deep crimson which fell in long, graceful tresses to her waist, each strand as thick as a cooper's rope but as soft as a feather. Her face was shaped as an oval with classically delicate features, her lips small but full without being voluptuous, her nose regal and prominent, her deep eyes a soul-piercing emerald, her high brow assuredly full of sophisticated thoughts. Her frame appeared slender and athletic, having a dancer's figure and poise in spite of her immense size, and she moved with the self-assured grace of a woman in complete command of her every motion. Two full breasts firm with youthful vigor nestled in the folds of her long stola, each one resting heavy with milk and as large as a bedroom of a Theraverian house. From a great distance she might even have appeared fragile and dainty, a smiling girl with a radiant expression. I prostrated myself before her, shivering in equal parts fear and awe. Without a word she extended her hand to me, resting on the threshold of the temple, and I understood her intent and gingerly climbed into her palm. Merphomenee's hand felt warm and wonderfully soft, but beneath the smooth skin I also felt her terrible latent strength - no doubt she could crush boulders without a hint of strain marring her lovely features. Elegant goddess, at my first glance of you I felt deeply ashamed of myself for even daring to entertain the thought of displeasing you. This being a woman's opinion of another woman's appearance, one can only imagine how men perceived her beauty. Her statues are but poor simulacra of her majesty.

Merphomenee lifted me gently away from the ground and stepped away from the temple, taking me down to the shore for a private stroll with her hand suspended near her left shoulder. Great distance and hardy obstacles for me did not even give her pause. From this vantage I could see the roof of the temple, the crowns of the nearby trees brushing against her calves, and far, far out into the ocean - and with a start I realized that this must be how she viewed the city of Louelle, a collection of fragile toy houses and ribbons of cobblestone at her feet. Small wonder then the playful smiles on her face when she stepped inside our city in Renia's body. Besides her silken stola hemmed with decorative fringes, Merphomenee wore sandals with long leather straps reaching up her calves on her feet and a heavy golden torc around her neck which no doubt exceeded the entirety of the vaulted gold in the Royal Bank of Louelle. In curiosity I measured myself against her smallest finger and found that it overtopped me by two paces.

When she spoke, it was in the same gentle, warm voice which I had felt so often from Renia, only from Merphomenee's lips her words came as a lyrical soprano and washed over me like an autumn breeze. "Hail. Summerlyn my dear, I am glad to see you recovered," she whispered.

"Your Divine Grace." She sounded so relieved that I did not know what to say. All of the reproaches I wanted to voice would not emerge. "Goddess. Why?" I finally asked, and the floodgates broke. Tears rose unbidden as I sobbed in the palm of her hand. "Why did you steal me away from my home? Why did you lie to me and try to destroy my beautiful country? How could you be so, so lovely and so kind to me and hide such monstrous intentions?" My undignified weeping caused her to gently fold her soft fingers over me, the closest to an embrace she could manage at her colossal span. I cried as I often had for my lost family and friends, torn from me in an instant by the goddess.

Gingerly the goddess seated herself with her back to a sheer cliff, letting the insignificant waves play at her feet. So close to her lips, I felt wrapped in her pleasant scent of honey and baking bread. "Oh my poor friend Summerlyn, upon my oath I spoke only the truth to your ears. A goddess can no more defy her nature than a mortal. This is not the right occasion for such a conversation, but I promise to reveal all to you in proper time. Let us rather talk as was our wont in Louelle, when you and I were simply two women with common interests rather than goddess and princess. I grant you leave to address me by name rather than title. I do miss our conversations so much." Petulantly I did not reply, so she simply soliloquized by herself until she gradually drew me out of my resentful reticence. We spoke with each other for the entire night, myself resting in her hand and she sometimes seated, sometimes on her feet aimlessly wandering around the beach. Even the stars in this world looked different, glimmering in strange constellations I had not seen in Theraveria. I played with strands of her lovely scarlet hair which draped into her palm as we gossiped of her time in Louelle, reminiscing of balls and dances we attended together. She told me that she had visited as many places of interest as she could before her summoning, examining banks, museums, manors, shops, theaters, and even apartments from within. I asked her about her world as well and she said I would have the leisure to see it for myself. She told me that she had eight sister goddesses who reigned over other worlds of their own, but I never had the chance to confirm this fact. She even sang for me, her melodious voice so sweetly beautiful that no other chorus has satisfied me since.

At some point during the night, while she lowered me to the water level so that I could lazily run my hand in the ocean while I reclined in her palm, I asked her about Renia Sundalicia. "Did she come from this world?" I wanted to know.

"Yes," Merphomenee confirmed. "She was - I suppose she is - very much like you: intelligent, articulate, sophisticated, a delight to hold conversation with. But the light of her soul faded after I destroyed her city. I kept her with me in my temple to prepare her as a repository for my spirit." She must have sensed my confusion, for she added, "I needed a massive gate to open for me to step into your world, Summerlyn. By my own power I can create a small enough passage to slip a mortal through, so I use my vessels to prepare my way."

I immediately looked up at her. "Then ... you can send me back to Theraveria! Oh please, please please Merphomenee! If you ever held warm feelings of affection for me, je t'en supplie, return me to my people and my family!"

"Speak no more of such fantasies," Merphomenee shook her head. "You belong to me now, Summerlyn. I missed you so much, even if I feel upset at your choices. Be of good cheer, for I shall be kindly disposed toward you despite your resistance." I wept bitterly at her decision and she embraced me again, scant comfort for being marooned here in the goddess' world. I recall well how warm her skin and flesh always felt, whether I reclined in her palm or she surrounded me with herself. She treated me no less tenderly than a mother with a child.

Some time during the night I must have fallen asleep in her palm, either from fatigue or sorrow, for I awoke in my bed the next day with no memory of how I had arrived. The temple priestesses informed me at repast that Merphomenee had ordered me away to dwell with her at the end of the week, a prospect I both anticipated and dreaded. Platina would accompany me while the others remained. They also spoke in hushed tones of distant provinces and lands being summoned to render an annual tribute, but when I asked my companions they would not say more, with Maecia telling me that I had best see for myself. During the week I said farewell to these companionate women who had cared for me and helped ease me into Illyrica. On the appointed day a miller named Flavius Tetrarchus arrived with a covered wagon and a team of oxen to take me to Merphomenee's dwelling. Platina and I loaded our scant belongings and the three of us set out, although with some scandal on my part until an embarrassed Platina had to explain to me that young women did not need chaperones in Illyrica. Indecent behavior between men and women was considered so unlikely as to be unthinkable, with rapists condemned to an eternity of suffering in the stomach of the goddess; a stark contrast from the rigid rules governing decorum among mixed company in Europa. It reminded me of just how little I knew about the world Merphomenee ruled.

I assumed we would reach Kircina, the seat of Merphomenee's throne, in a day at most. Flavius disabused me of that notion when he pointed out that we had a fortnight's journey before us, and when I asked how Merphomenee could possibly have visited the temple every morning with such a great intervening distance Platina only shrugged her slim shoulders and said that Merphomenee could travel halfway around the world in a single step if she so pleased. At night Platina and I bundled up together in a blanket inside the wain while Flavius slept underneath it wrapped in his great cloak if we did not find lodging in town. We traveled during the day along a small dirt path which gradually joined to a road paved with Illyrican concrete, well-worn but still used a great deal by men and women. I must admit that I found the roads of Illyrica much superior to those of Theraveria; surely the success of Illyrican trade owes a great deal to her well-engineered roads.

Oh reader of mine, if only I had the space on this parchment to relate all of the wonders that I saw during my journey with Platina and Flavius! We passed by wondrous cultivated gardens as sprawling as a village, eating grapes of such prodigious size that a single globe fit in my palm and seeing beautiful flowers larger than Flavius' steers. We saw lovely crystal mountains shimmering with light and rich with aether quarried out for towns and villages to use as magical fonts, ensuring a ready supply of magic for the public weal. Every town of size boasted a public bathhouse where any man or woman could bathe like a king for an inconsiderable sum of denarii, an institution which doubtlessly contributed much to the general health of the populace. Very few of the towns and cities featured any walls, a testament to the general peace which prevailed under Merphomenee's tyranny. With my own eyes I saw great herds of sheep and cattle and even astounding winged horses which soared majestically through the wind - pegasi, Platina named them. We traveled by ship on broad rivers and joined great merchant caravans on the most used roads, and I was introduced to more variety of food than I had ever savored in Louelle - all manner of fish and fruit and vegetables and meat for which I had no name. I met many ladies who envied my pale complexion and fair hair, still boyishly short even after months of regrowth. We watched several plays of varying length in the many outdoor amphitheaters which seemed omnipresent in any town; unlike Theraverian theater, both men and women acted in Illyrica. By these many frequent delays my journey lasted over a month and I would still be on the road to Kircina had Flavius and Platina permitted it.

The day came at last when I first caught a glimpse of the golden dome that marked Merphomenee's dwelling and seat of government. We were still a week away from the great capital of Kircina and the roads here were constantly crowded by traffic, a motley congregation of human activity centered around the city. A circular dome topped with pure gold shone in the light of the day, visible for many leagues all around Kircina, and Flavius reverently told me it was the mighty house in which Merphomenee dwelled. From a distance it looked like any ordinary temple; only as we drew nearer did the true monolithic scale of the temple become apparent, dwarfing the royal palace in Louelle to a degree that my dwelling must have seemed like a dollhouse in comparison. The edifice rose nearly a thousand paces above the ground, its heavy golden dome supported by countless pillars and arches and magical artificing to bear the ponderous weight. A massive portal with enormous doors had been built into the face of the building and was clearly intended for the use of a giantess of Merphomenee's size; a team of two dozen oxen would not have budged those mighty gates. Passing through the city limits into Kircina made me appreciate the true size of Merphomenee's domicile, to which I was but an insect by way of comparison. Her temple must have covered as much area as half the city of Louelle, meaning that a simple woman like myself would need hours to cross from one end to the other - and an entire city had grown up around this one edifice! Suddenly every grand manor I had ever visited in my city seemed almost pathetically insignificant in comparison. Flavius said farewell to us near the city marketplace, leaving Platina and I to ride to the grand temple with our meager belongings in a hired coach. Kircina swarmed with people and activity, its atmosphere less refined but more lively than the stately air of Louelle. Merphomenee's subjects did not adhere to a stifling protocol with the rectitude of Theraverians. I saw so many citizens that I mentioned in amazement to Platina that even the grandest of Europan cities did not enjoy such liveliness; she soberly replied that Kircina was the one city spared Merphomenee's devastating rampages, which immediately stifled my enthusiasm.

The large doors themselves were shut and the massive road leading to them teeming with activity, although I noticed imprints of gargantuan footprints at regular intervals which formed depressions of crushed rubble several paces deep, evidence that Merphomenee used this path to leave the city. Crowds carefully avoided these craters in the roads and I was given a weighty reminder of the goddess' fearsome power. The base of the doors had man-sized portals which opened into short corridors leading through the width of the door and emerging on the other end into the temple. Once inside, I was immediately struck speechless by the sheer size and extravagant opulence within: an enormous polished floor of veined marble where a single tile occupied the space of a house, a ceiling that seemed to rise forever almost to the sky, countless statuettes and paintings, luxury fit and scaled for a goddess. Every facility within clearly had been designed for Merphomenee's employment. I nearly missed the many stairwells and doors made for human use built into the enormous walls. The atrium seemed to stretch on forever until a grand, throne-like cushion at the end of the prodigious room, surely meant for Merphomenee to recline upon and to impress supplicants by the vast distance to her dais. The goddess was not present in this room; still, despite her absence, I was acutely aware that I was a mere ant daring to trespass in the abode of a giantess. The majestic, awe-inspiring spectacle could not fail to make a lasting impression upon me. How the royal audience chamber of Louelle must have seemed laughably trite to Merphomenee!

Hundreds of people were present on the floor and yet the cavernous atrium gave the impression of vast emptiness, so enormous were the dimensions - several stadia in length, perhaps even an Illyrican mile. Conversations here did not echo, merely becoming lost in the empyrean distance. Merphomenee's household slaves wore distinct togas and stolas of turquoise shade; one of them greeted Platina and me, ushering her away to a guest room but informing me that the goddess would see me immediately. I followed her to a cunningly-engineered elevator in the wall, one I later discovered was powered by the same magical crystals I had seen on the long road to Kircina. We emerged on a high walkway some three hundred paces above the ground, a dizzying height which even the view from my balcony in Louelle had not prepared me. Here I was guided from the audience chamber of Merphomenee's temple into her own personal boudoir, a comparatively smaller chamber but no less splendid to my dazzled eyes. I saw her seated on the floor and gazing intently into a massive basin of water, but she immediately rose when she saw me and her smile illuminated her face. The goddess wore a simple blouse and skirt leaving her feet unshod. With serene grace she glided over and laid her palm out for me. In this place the earth did not tremble with her every stride and I placed myself in her warm hand. "Hail Summerlyn, was the journey difficult?" she whispered.

"Not in the least, Merphomenee," I replied truthfully. She nonetheless bid me remove my stola and there in the water basin she bathed me as though I were a pet rabbit whom she fancied, artfully caressing my body with her supple fingertips. I recounted my journey to her then, admitting that I would have liked to see more of Illyrica and that I greatly enjoyed what I had glimpsed. In spite of myself we gossiped like old friends and Merphomenee waved away a minister who came to report to her on matters of state. "Merphomenee, may I ask why you sent for me?"

"Days hence, the provinces under my sway present the annual tribute required of them," she told me in her musical voice, murmured softly so as not to harm my ears. "I thought you would wish to be here to see for yourself, since you wanted answers that I did not give you the last time we spoke. I must admit, Summerlyn, I worried whether you would arrive before the grand event, and I had a mind to fetch you myself if you tarried. Since you showed me hospitality during my stay in Theraveria, it is only just that I return the courtesy."

"But, is it hospitality to keep me here when I wish to return to Theraveria?" I asked Merphomenee. "I do not mean to be basely ungrateful for your kindness, then as now, but am I a guest or a prisoner?"

The goddess used her hand to push a wave of water over my head in a manner she must have felt playful. "Why are you so eager to be rid of me? Think of yourself as a pet, Summerlyn." Without asking permission, she lifted me out of my bath and cupped me in her hands, drying my skin with magical heat from her palms. Then she bid me dress in an elaborate new stola and high-heeled shoes quite unlike the sandals used by women of Illyrica. "Do you like these?" she asked conversationally. "I very much enjoyed wearing high slippers in Louelle and it is a fashion I hope to introduce to Illyrica. In fact, I may require your eye for style in the near future."

"Merphomenee ..." I complained.

She pushed a lock of ruby hair behind her ear and effortlessly picked me up, ignoring my protests as the sudden acceleration disoriented me. "And I prepared a bed for you to rest within, right here in my boudoir. Before you ask, I myself do not sleep as mortals do." She placed me down next to a massive high-heeled slipper made in Theraverian design - elegant and feminine, with a sharp incline from heel stem to sole, and a high enough arch that I could walk upright underneath the shoe. Polished diamonds the size of my head had been artfully stitched into a curling floral motif which embroidered the outer lining. It must have been larger than my bed in the royal palace and weightier than a loaded wain. "I commissioned this pair from the craftsmen of Kircina," Merphomenee informed me, "one of many to come, and you shall sleep inside. Hundreds of cattle were sacrificed to provide the leather."

"... You are bedding me inside one of your shoes?" I asked, hardly able to fathom how insulted I felt. What a degrading circumstance for a princess!

"Yes, and I think you would look quite adorable within," Merphomenee declared. I thought of retorting with a witty reprisal, noticed that her amused smile only touched her lips while her eyes watched me coldly, and decided I could bear the affront to my dignity after all. "You may travel anywhere you please in my abode or my city," she continued imperiously, "but you may not sleep except in my shoe. Nor will you depart Kircina without my leave." Merphomenee loomed over me, her voice shedding its friendly overtones as she inclined her waist to lean herself until her face filled my vision. A curtain of crimson hair fell around me, enclosing me in a small sanguine stage as she pressed ever nearer. Terrified, I fell against the floor and scampered underneath the arch of my new bed, my heart racing at the sight of her stern countenance. Nor did she whisper softly any longer; instead, her voice had hardened with flint. "I consider this the least you might do for me, indebted as you are for spoiling my entertainment in Louelle, little princess." My protective cover abruptly rose away as she effortlessly picked her slipper up, leaving me nowhere to hide from her angry expression. I burst into tears as I curled up like a frightened rodent, terror-stricken almost to the point of fainting. No longer my friend, she had become an inexorable goddess. "Men have been crushed to dust beneath my heel or boiled alive in my stomach for less. I am angry with you, and I require you to justify your continued existence to me." Her emerald eyes bored into me so severely that I cringed like a beaten dog, tears streaming down my cheeks. She overshadowed me closely enough that every breath she exhaled blew warmly past my frail body, but dread, not her respiration, made me shiver uncontrollably. "Am I understood, Summerlyn Katalina?" she asked icily in terrifying proximity.

Je n'avais pas connu la peur jusqu'à ce moment-là. Through my tears I managed to stammer out a whimpering assent. She placed her cherry-red lips on my minuscule body and kissed me then, at which I squirmed in terror before she rose away. Merphomenee ignored me afterwards as she admired herself in a looking-glass the size of a small lake. Thoroughly browbeaten into fearful submission by my frightening interview with the goddess, I remained meekly docile and said not a word to her directly for the next week. Obediently I returned to sleep in her slipper every night, never daring to venture far lest I incur her displeasure. I flinched whenever she looked at me and I would weep inconsolably at her touch or words although she never raised her voice to me. She resorted to inhabiting human vessels simply to speak with me, yet we never had our deep, profound, friendly conversations again - I simply feared Merphomenee far too much.

I soon witnessed how much her subjects feared her too.