here you go @fredhincanada and anyone else who wants to read it! Not exactly the 2K words I usually do, but you have to know when to end a chapter, and I think this ends exactly where it needs to:
Neeku sat numbly while Ara hummed to itself as it brewed the tea. The domestic setting juxtaposed with the internal turmoil the young assassin was experiencing, her world view shattered. It was a mark of how disassociated she was that she only noticed Ara at her elbow when it sat the saucer and teacup down and lightly tapped her on the shoulder. She couldn’t help but let out a little squeak, which turned her a shade of red she was glad she couldn’t see. “Some hardened warrior I am,” she thought to herself as she closed her eyes and slowed down her breathing to center herself.
To be fair, I don’t think there’s anything that can be done to prepare one for a situation like THIS, Sheeba replied unprompted.
“She’s right, this obviously isn’t something that gets talked about, since us deities rather not reveal that there’s something mortals can do to end our existence,” Ara replied, and Neeku shot her eyes open and stared at him while she felt Sheeba do the same. “Oh, don’t look so surprised, you know I can hear you both when you talk to one another. You may think it’s only in your head, but in reality any nearby divine being can hear you. It’s like you’re covering your mouths with your hands so no one can see you talking, yet you keep shouting at one another.”
“How can we not ‘shout’ at one another then? I rather not tip off others about our private conversations,” Neeku asked while she sensed Sheeba nod Her head.
“Try thinking ‘smaller’ is probably the best way I can explain it. Most mortals think ‘loudly’ but since very few beings can pick up on those thoughts, it’s not so bad. Sheeba, not being the most popular or widely worshipped deity, never has had to worry about projecting Her thoughts too loudly, since if She contacted a mortal or worshipper before She bonded with you, only they would hear Her voice. But not that She’s bonded with you, it’s like you think you’re talking in a crowd. Imagine you’re whispering to each other, like making snide comments during a play so other patrons don’t hear you.”
“All right, let me give it a try,” Neeku said out loud as she focused on thinking ‘smaller’. Imagining she was sharing a secret, she thought as quietly as she could, “Can you hear me Sheeba?”
Yes, but barely, was the Goddess’s reply, which Neeku herself barely caught.
“How about that, Ara? Were you able to pick up on what we said?” Neeku asked.
“Not at all, which is good, but you definitely need to practice; the way your face scrunched up it looked like you were having difficulty with a bowel movement,” it replied, which Neeku gasped indignantly. “Just because I’ve never been mortal myself doesn’t mean I’m unaware of how fragile and complicated you humans are, which reminds me. Drink your tea my dear, I don’t want it to get cold.”
Neeku picked up the teacup and took a sip. “Hmm, you did a good job for never being mortal, Just a touch of honey, and I think mint, yes? Ara nodded its head. “But why mint? That’s usually only used for stomach problems.” The God of Death just raised an eyebrow at Neeku, who tried to hide her blush by taking another long drink from the teacup.
“Nothing to be ashamed of, my dear, hearing that mortals can actually kill a god should have turned your bowels to ice; stomach problems are a natural reaction to knowing something like this.”
“Doesn’t mean it’s not embarrassing,” Neeku thought to Sheeba, remembering to practice both being quiet in her thinking and not scrunching up her face. The Goddess sniffed haughtily in agreement. But, Neeku did finish the tea, placing the teacup back on the saucer with a soft clink and nodding her head in thanks to Ara, who politely nodded back.
Once she was seated comfortably in her chair once more, Ara began speaking. “Do you actually know what your father did before he disappeared? Or did he keep that from you and your mother?” Neeku thought about it for a second, but couldn’t recall ever hearing him say, so she shook her head no. Ara continued. “Eku was a procurer of rare items for interested peoples.”
“That sounds like a fancy name for a smuggler,” Neeku snorted as she crossed her arms over her chest.
“You’re right,” Ara chuckled, and Neeku couldn’t help but shiver at the God of Death’s dry laugh. “Eku was a smuggler, and a very good one. He never took from those in similar situations such as your family was in…”
“You can just say poor; I’m aware that my family was that way, and we came from a rundown part of Tawnytown,” Neeku interrupted Ara. “Tiptoeing around the words won’t change the circumstances of my youth.”
Ara nodded its head, conceding her point. “As I was saying, your father only took from the rich and elite for other rich and elite, mostly rare art and other useless items that only matter to that stratum of society. Until he was hired to lead a crew to recover something so valuable your father was persuaded to work with people he hadn’t worked with before.”
Neeku frowned. “My father always said that you don’t work with people whom you haven’t vetted, as their inexperience could cost you your life.”
“Your father was a smart man,” Ara agreed. “But this job would’ve set you and your family up for life, and he was tired of always looking over his shoulder, wondering if a former client or victim would come after him. He wanted to set you all up with something nicer.”
“Wait a minute,” the young assassin said, standing up and beginning to pace. “You keep saying my father ‘was’ and speaking of events as if you were there, like you have some sort of insider knowledge. How do you know all of these things about my dad?”
Ara sighed. “I think you know; you just want me to say it, or you don’t want it said out loud as if by doing so you make it true and cause your secret hope to dissipate.”
“No, no, no, no, NO!” Neeku said, her pacing increasing in speed. “It can’t be true, he’s just missing! Or captured somewhere, being tortured for all these years, waiting for his little girl to come find him! Why would you lie to me like this??”
“I am truly sorry, my child, I wish that were so. Nothing would make me happier than letting you know that somehow I was there, or that I obtained this knowledge in any other way than the way that I did. But I’m not going to lie to you; it’s a point of pride that Death is the one true thing in this universe…”
“Shut up! Just SHUT UP!” Neeku spun to face Ara, interrupting it mid-sentence. Her hands were shaking, and it scared her to realize that she’d drawn both Bloodmoon and Nightblade without thinking. “You’re lying, you have to be!”
Standing up, Ara spread its arms wide. “If you have to stab me to feel better, go ahead. You can’t hurt me, nor this body I inhabit, but if it would make you feel some type of control…” The God of Death stopped talking when the young assassin snarled and leaped across the desk, stabbing it with both weapons in the chest and bearing its body to the floor. Wordless screams echoed around the room and Neeku stabbed Ara over and over, until her arms were too weak to pull the weapons out of Ara’s body. She left them there and crawled slightly away, panting with the effort until she curled herself into a ball like a wounded animal.
She heard the clatter as her weapons were pulled from Ara and dropped to the floor. Neeku wrapped her arms around herself and waited for her punishment, keeping her eyes tightly closed and holding her breath. She heard and sensed as Ara knelt down next to her, and wondered what would happen next, gasping as the God of Death pulled her to a sitting position and enveloped her in its arms. “It’s all right,” Ara whispered, “just let it all out. Holding onto it now won’t do anyone any good, least of all you. Your father wouldn’t want you to let this fester and poison you; it won’t bring him back and won’t help you move on.”
Neeku began to cry, silently at first but quickly moving on to full on sobbing, the kind where she sometimes forgot how to breathe, keening in between as she cried out, “Daddy! Daddy, please daddy! Don’t be dead, I still need you!” She could sense Sheeba also enveloping her from the other side, and in the middle of two deities the young assassin mourned her dead father as she’d never done before, crying until she had no more tears to give.
