Sequel

I got to Rel falling asleep and I felt like I was struggling until I realised what it was really about... well it's about it all amazingly so whooo. I have a lot of fun with the gods. And it took a lot of talking on my part to stop them from simply coming down from the heavens and slaughtering everybody. They've done it before and it's a pain to clean up.

What could rally the gods to anger? Read on.

Frankly it rallies me to anger. Well... Because of several reasons...

Mainly because people are stupid. Grar.

Read, Review and Enjoy.




Rel waited patiently for Rahluen to answer his question. The lawyer motioned to the papers and sat back in his chair, obviously not willing to divulge anything and wanting Rel to read for himself.

Rel sighed and looked over the front page, “I’m not much in the mood for reading, so. What is it?”

“Papers you are going to sign. If you’re guilty… you are basically signing your death warrant.”

“And if I’m not?”

“Freedom.”

“Hmm. Freedom. Death. If I think really hard about being guilty, does that make me guilty?”

“Sign it,” Rahluen responded.

Rel sighed again and signed his name on the dotted line before handing the papers back to Rahluen. The lawyer looked over the signatures and then put it in his briefcase.

“Now. What did I sign my life away on?”

Rahluen shrugged, “you just said that if something comes up then you will participate in something called the program.”

“Sidhe,” Rel muttered, “great, lovely. Those guys don’t kill anyone. Now I have to live. You bastard.”

“I had them up your morphine about twenty minutes ago so you’d sign without asking too many questions. Death row inmates are the only ones allowed to apply for this, as there is a good chance you will die, hence the question on guilt. They will only put you into play if absolutely necessary but it stops any death sentence in its tracks. You still stay here, but they put in a stronger effort at keeping you alive.

“Essentially, the program now owns you. It can deploy you as it pleases, how it pleases.”

“And the second sign on the bottom page?” Rel muttered to Rahluen, “I don’t know much about lawyering, but I’ve seen enough clauses to know something’s up.”

Rel paused as he tried to poke a finger at Rahluen. His head was feeling fuzzy and he was… dreamy.

“That clause permits me to not only stay on as your lawyer, but act still as right of attorney. Meaning I can visit you at any time and have control of your assets. By joining this program your assets are supposed to be liquefied and put into the program. Little as that is usually expected to be. In your case, they have agreed to keep your assets as they are, given the benefits of having a steady income that is double the donations of a certain investor of theirs.

“Your money, five percent of your yearly income, will go into building bigger and better program buildings, helping the partners and being pushed into healing the Sidhe with our technology. Ten percent of your income will be pushed into replacing every piece of what is now being called Sidhe bone technology. First by finding solutions and next by replacing the actual machines.”

“That’s only…” Rel paused, not able to recall what he was trying to say, “not a hundred.”

“That is correct. Five percent will finance the military, ten more will finance medical research for things like cancer. That’s thirty percent. For the moment twenty percent will go into the new division that is being worked on. It deals with dealing with Sidhe power and the possibility of power in people.”

“Crapshoot.”

“I’ve seen Sidhe power at work. If we could duplicate what they can do, there would be no need for the medical or military aspects of our society. That’s fifty percent now, Rel, are you paying attention?”

“Sort of.”

“Ten percent will go to a new force, to stop the abuse of Sidhe. Ten percent to the other aspect, a group like the partners, made specifically for the recovery of Sidhe from abusers. That’s seventy.”

“And…” Rel murmured under his breath, feeling sleep tugging him under even as he struggled to stay awake.

“Thirty percent will be placed in a trust fund over the course of ten years. If by that time you are not dead, you have not been freed or you have not reclaimed your rights in some manner, then the thirty percent will be put up for options as to the future of its…” Rahluen made a motion with his hand.

“Ah. Crapshoot.”

“Perhaps…” Rahluen muttered, “but it is better to be in a crapshoot than dead.”

“Whether living is worth it is completely dependant on your own self worth,” Rel mumbled in response, sliding into sleep.

“War!” the shadow flickered from one side of the long room to the other, bellowing his battle cry before coming to form at the steps of the throne. Dark of hair, eyes like the sun, he stood tall and stiff between the throne and those that dared to challenge its rights. His hands clenched at his side and his head was tilted up slightly and to the side as a blade of shadow and night grew from one clenched fist.

Something like a giggle flickered through the room. White and light, blonde with eyes the colour of the sky and dressed all in white, a female drifted into the room and curtsied to the throne before taking her place beside the man, her body facing him while she looked back across the room. Her clothing floated around her like a smoke, insubstantial in its form yet covering all a woman might wish to hide. And more. Golden locks unbound floated about her head in a mane, untamed.

“Already my coffers overflow yet never there seems to be enough souls to fill the new bodies they create. Let them kill themselves in a war, let this so called civilization fall,” the woman responded to the male, before adding calmly, “if that is what Father truly wishes.”

“Wipe it out,” She spoke through clenched teeth as she strode into the room.

Brown hair and brown eyes, so dull, so normal where alive with the power that flowed off of her, barely contained by her own self control. The once careful goddess, so particular about even a hair being out of place, Illuva had risen from her bed and not bothered brushing her hair or adjusting her clothing. She stormed into the throne room, dressed in nothing more than a scant nightshift that covered hardly anything.

Her hands she clenched at her hands and her stance screamed angry woman. She shook with it as she tried so desperately to control herself, to explain to herself how it was not the fault of mortals for being such foolish beings.

“Destroy it all, leave nothing but ashes and death. Remind the people why we are the gods and they are the followers. They would be nothing. Nothing without us.”

Dark of colour, De entered behind his lover, looking bemused as one finger brushed over his lips in an attempt to wipe away the smile that lay there. He was in a state of undress as well. His shirt gone, and De never being one to shy away from showing off his perfect form, had not donned a shirt before leaving his rooms.

“They have committed blasphemy,” De responded, as if to explain Illuva’s behaviour.

“Where is he? Abed at this hour? Wake the old bastard up so he can tell me the price of starting my war,” Illuva snapped at the two gods who stood between her and the throne.

God and goddess, light and dark, glanced at one another.

Ringe-il was the first to speak, “Rahl-ta is busy, sister, as you well know. Playing the hand you dealt once already. This is a favour he plays for you, so why call him such names?”

Ill-rin sighed like a woman embarrassed by her family, “she still has not forgiven him, Rin-rin, for millennia old deeds.”

“The bastard raped me, that is not something I will just-”

“ENOUGH,” a dress of green, tight in all the right places and flowing in all the right places, Tahl-ra entered the throne room. Her green eyes darted over the gods present as she ascended the steps to the throne. Her hair was tied back by a single strand of Rahl-ta’s hair, the only possession she had ever taken from the god, “enough of your bickering, enough of your crying and mewling. He comes and he is not pleased whatsoever with your screaming, Illuva, you are not a child, you are far from a child.”

“I think the question is, what has driven her to such a state?”

Like a dark whisper on a moonless night, Rahl-ta came to form slowly beside his mate. Black and shadow and deviation. Black hair and yellow eyes looked out over his adopted family for only a moment before Rahl-ta turned to his mate and gave her cheek a peck.

“As glorious as ever, and how are you this morning?” he murmured to his mate, one hand caressing her stomach protectively for just a moment.

“Well, husband,” Tahl-ra murmured in response, “please, speak to your daughter. She has lost her mind, surely, for she wants us to encourage the war that the mortals have started.”

“Ah,” Rahl-ta sighed and took his seat, waiting for Tahl-ra to sit beside him before saying, “and how many times did we, you and I, go to father demanding satisfaction, darling? Give way to her moods. She is young still and we were nearly ten times her age before we began to settle down. Hmm?”

Tahl-ra giggled into her hand.

“Ayato.”

“What of him?” Rahl-ta’s focus shifted to Illuva as he hissed out, “You won’t let me play with him, and I have not. Not a single hair on the boy’s head have I hurt and I have been in a very good position to have him sexually gratified until he could not walk and what did I do? Nothing more than a mere two times and that was his own people’s way of dealing with things, not mine.”

Illuva waved her hand and between her and the other gods appeared an invisible screen. Information played across it, faces flashed, as she stamped through the image and said, “They call themselves Ayato Aniege, they sully the very name the gods, you, father, have gifted to no one. Ever. If Ayato knew he would reign fire upon their heads.”

Rahl-ta considered this information, features darkening as he read what Illuva presented to his eyes.

“Ill-rin, explain how these souls came to exist in the same place.”

“I have been overstressed,” Ill-rin’s head lowered eyes cast downward as she spoke quietly, “I have no help and they breed so quickly. The well of souls is nearly dried up. More and more are being born as shattered remnants of nothing at all. This world will plunge into darkness.”

“Wipe them clean. As your father did before you,” Illuva snapped, “bring them to heel.”

“Oh. I will,” Rahl-ta murmured, “but I will not lower myself to their levels. I will permit you three deaths amongst the people. That is all.”

“Three deaths can hardly make a difference!”

“One death can make all the difference,” Rahl-at spoke quietly, “you just are so blinded by your self doubt that you cannot see what your own powers tell you. Three deaths and no more. And Illuva. I expect my payment.”



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