sometimes the old ways are best

Siv Helsi · 06-28-2012, 01:42 AM

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(429) for my bb.

Oh what a marvelous thing it was, to be here at this time. Siv could not have chosen a better home if she had tried. With Eris disposed of (at least, from a leader’s position—she suspected that the rank given was merely out of respect) there was little doubt in her that her future was bright. She all but held Sirius’ ear when it came to the world of spirits, poisoning him against the beliefs brought by Tlanti and shared by Eris. Salvia was another story, but Salvia was a girl that Siv had spent many a hunting trip with. Salvia was simple. She cared little for the spiritual guidance of the witch-woman and more for her physical prowess and talents.

There were more, now, that Siv saw as potential tools. Her cousin, for one, had proven her magic by his fearful steps around her. He had chosen another woman to bed, but this did not matter. That girl was no threat to her. Wisteria had shown her true colors and defaulted somewhere beneath the dark woman, as was her place in the world. With Larkspur’s death, the Khalif gods lost their power.

Beyond that, Siv was gifted with an acolyte who not only knew the stories and knew the rights, but was a presence amongst the younger girls of Eris’ brood. That was her dear daughter, who was all but grown now. Still, there was much to teach. Siv turned over a piece of nearly finished leather and stared down at it, frowning. The tooling was expertly done and a delicate, strange pattern of thistles and vines crossed in a shape not unlike that of the Hand of Eris. It was to be a gift, for her King, though it would be instead given to the delicate little woman he called his own. While Siv might have bedded him once, and might have held his ear, it was Clover that held his children. As she knew, a mother was the one who would best guide them. Already, she planned. Already, she schemed.

She let out a sigh and put the leather back onto her work table then rose, stretching, and paced to the entrance of her home. It was nearly dusk and the sun had sunk beyond the line of trees, lighting them in a brilliant red display. Siv watched the sky as if she might read it, and in a way, she did—a red night always favored the following day, for the gods had killed and taken the blood they needed before the faithful slept.

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