A vision from Ereshkygal herself has brought Wraithvine to a region of wine, olives, and seemingly nothing wrong. The reigning duchess accepts her trans daughter as heir, the taxes aren't high, and there are no charlatans or curses running amok. Yet the Goddess has called hir here with startlingly vivid visions. What could it mean? -- Deathshead419
The visions had been very clear. This was the right realm. The architecture was a direct match. Wraithvine even stood at the exact spot that matched and opened hirself to the will of hir goddess. Waiting for any further portents.
There were none.
There was only a vague impression based entirely on what ze knew of his patron goddess. You're here now. Get curious. Find things out. Wraithvine sighed and took in the scenery. Beautiful town. Clean-enough streets. The layout and buildings made sense. The little shops were the general chaos of little shops everywhere. People were going about their business like they would anywhere else. Why would the goddess send hir here?
Ze found a nice little bistro that seemed to be the social hub of the immediate area and settled into a good listening spot with a cake and some soothing tea. Letting the gossip flow around hir.
Everyday. Normal. Gossip. Who's neighbour's dog was allowed to run loose. Whose cousin's uncle's sister said what at Our Masie's Wedding.
There was absolutely nothing untoward going on. At least on the surface. People were happy. Life was good. The weather was wonderful and perfectly matched to the season.
Even the local newssheets were full of personal advertising, and not a lot of news. The most interesting aspect was that the local Noble was moving all stops to make certain her daughter was comfortable after she renounced being her son.
There was little in the way of conflict. No neighbours threatened war. There were no lingering sorrows. No excess of one at the cost of another's woe. At least, that's what it looked like. If anyone was suddenly elevated, it was due to the Duchess' largesse. One family every fifteen years received a marvellous boon.
Interesting.
Wraithvine found the last family to win that award. "Hello," ze told the person who answered the door. "I'm a nosy person on a mission from my patron god. May I ask the lucky family some questions?"
The servant dashed away to have a conference with their masters, and Wraithvine was ushered in to the parlour, where the lady of the house had lain an acceptable afternoon tea, given the rush.
"Strangers do come by every now and then to enquire, I've been told. The only true peril of the Duchy's benevolence."
"True peril," Wraithvine echoed, accepting tea and a small cake. "There are... minor perils?"
"A small price of the lottery. Only families in the act of reproducing can be amongst the chosen, and once chosen, they surrender a newborn or a toddler to the Duchess' custody. It was a brief sorrow, in comparison. I miss my little Daisy from time to time, but... I know the Duchess is generous."
"Did you keep anything of your little Daisy? To remember her by?"
"She was only a few months old when we were chosen. Still wearing mittens to stop her scratching herself. I... kept a few little dresses away from my other babies. Silly treasures, all things considered. The follies of mothers."
"I'd like to see them. If I may," said Wraithvine.
They were darling little dresses, untouched by any other hand, and worn by no other than the missing Daisy. Wraithvine only needed a thread, discreetly taken from a seam as ze admired the making. That was vital for finding where Daisy had gone.
The trace lead hir to the Duchess' castle, but not the upper floors in the sunshine. Ze found hirself creeping down... down below the cellars. Below the empty dungeons, to a chamber where every suffering possible was paid to one child.
So everyone else could have a perfect life.
The very next day, the Duchess vanished. Her heir, still transforming to her more comfortable body, inherited the crown. On the proviso that the fifteen-year benevolence ended. Wraithvine insisted that it was no longer necessary. Ze had found a perfect means of replacement.
Daisy had gone to a better place, in the care of a temple run by Hallobloods. Dedicated to spending the rest of her life healing her traumas.
The chamber that ran off misery had a permanent resident, cursed with immortality. And that was the last anyone ever heard of the Duchess Lesoma.
[Photo by Lars Bo Nielsen on Unsplash]
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