Neither Ezra nor Noah made further attempts at conversation. The old yokai appeared to be leading him to the farthest edges of the castle, past numerous other empty hallways and closed doors. It wasn’t a short walk, but Noah preferred the long, tense silence to the awkwardness of feigned goodwill for one another.
It also gave him ample time to observe and take stock of the castle’s internal state.
Something about Ashbluff was… strange. He couldn’t put his finger on what, exactly, it was–only that something didn’t feel normal. The castle didn’t fit the usual portrait of a god’s personal domain. It wasn’t in a visible state of disrepair, but there was also nothing to suggest that it was flourishing. Asbluff was a grand enough structure, but it was empty. For a god’s personal domain, Ashbluff looked downright ascetic. He didn’t know what to make of it, other than to note that something seemed amiss.
Just like the entry hall, there were no tapestries or works of art in the hallways they traversed. In fact, there was nothing to differentiate one set of vaulted ceilings and cold stone walls from another—even the blue-flamed torches were identical from stretch to stretch, both in design and spacing. No rugs on the walls. No indication that this place was a home to anyone, let alone the multitude of servants he would expect to see in a god’s estate. Apart from the yokai that Noah had met so far, Ashbluff was conspicuously empty.
There was no décor, nothing to suggest its owner’s preferences or personal touches, but there was also a shocking lack of inhabitants. No lively bustle of servants through the hallways or hard at work behind the scenes. Apart from Ezra’s footsteps and his own, no others echoed in the halls.
He hadn’t seen any of the usual guards or attendants usually stationed throughout a place like this. There was nothing to suggest that the castle had ever hosted any visitors, let alone residents.
In Noah’s experience, a god’s domain was a lavish, well-populated affair and a place for them to show off and flaunt their wealth and power. Each god had their own territory over which they ruled and for whose well-being they were responsible for, and, within that, a personal domain in which their power was at its strongest. Whether it took the form of a temple, a palace, a castle fortress, or even a more ‘humble’ manor, a god’s personal domain was their primary home and the one place that they alone were strongest in.
Each god was at liberty by the Spirit Court—the most powerful of the gods and kami who maintained order in the Spirit Realm as a whole—to run their territory as they pleased. The sole expectation of each god was that they maintained their territory’s health and well-being. It was the condition of their territory that was reflected in its mirror-image in the Mortal Realm, resulting in either flourishing or dwindling lands and populations.
Silverrun was the mirror of this part of the Spirit Realm and, while Noah had come expecting to find something amiss—he hadn’t expected the mountain god’s personal domain to be in this kind of state. He had expected to find some echo of Silverrun’s woes or some rhyme of reason behind it here, but whatever Noah was seeing felt different and distinct from that.
Rather than seeing a reflection of Silverrun’s misfortune—or even its opposite, unchecked abundance, that might account for Silverrun’s utter lack of it—Noah’s first impression was that Ashbluff was instead… abandoned. After a long while, Ezra stopped in front of a humble wooden door with a latch instead of a handle.
“Here we are,” he said, opening the door. It was a small room, scarcely large enough to accommodate a single cot and a small writing desk. A single lantern hung on the far wall of the room, the sole accessory to the otherwise spartan room. “This should be acceptable.”
He hadn’t been expecting anything like the warm reception he’d been given by Tama his first time in the Spirit Realm—how he’d arrived here was proof enough of that—but this felt like another, continued slight. He wasn’t even being provided with the kind of comfortable private chambers that might be appropriate for an honored guest. This was a room fit for a servant—or a prisoner. What a way to tell him he was unwelcome without coming out and saying it.
“…Your master will be elsewhere, I presume,” Noah said dryly.
“His Grace values solitude,” Ezra said, placing renewed emphasis on the appropriate title. “And privacy... though I expect that after you meet, you will seldom be seeing His Grace.”
“And when, exactly, will I finally be seeing him?” Noah asked pointedly. “Unless Ashbluff is suffering the effects of an absentee god and that is why this domain feels empty to the point of being abandoned, it’s difficult to interpret his inability to hold a proper greeting for a member of the Astraeus clan ‘wed’ to him as anything but blatant disrespect.”
“His Grace is a busy man and, Astraeus or not, he has no obligation to answer to a human.” Ezra said, his lips thinning with obvious disapproval. “That being said, I expect he will find time this evening for the banquet we are already committed to planning to welcome such an esteemed member of the Astraeus Clan.
Noah felt a brief sting of shame for assuming otherwise, but swallowed it quickly. Whether or not a welcome banquet was planned wasn’t the issue—the deity, his husband, should have been the first face he had seen upon awakening in the Spirit Realm. Hell, it was customary for any bride sacrificed at a god’s altar to awaken in that god’s personal chambers, preferably in the comfort of a bed to recover from their recent death, but Noah had been left in the snow. And even since arriving at the god’s domain, he’d seen three different faces and none were his husband’s.
“And the one I’ve been bound to—my husband—is to finally make an appearance at this welcome banquet?” Noah snorted. “So how long am I meant to stay in these bridal robes? Am I meant to keep wearing the robes I died in until after he sees fit to receive me?”
“It isn’t necessary to follow a tradition like that. We don’t care for such trivialities here at Ashbluff,” Ezra said, as if the notion alone were ridiculous. “You might as well discard those tattered rags, His Grace will recognize you are the bride that was sent regardless of whether or not you’re still donning them. I’ll send for some servants to draw you a bath and assist you.”
The old yokai paused for a moment, his gaze lowering as he appeared to mull something over. “Lord Astraeus,” Ezra began, his voice pitched slightly quieter but equally matter-of-fact. “I know you were cherished as Lord Tamao’s partner and equal and are likely accustomed to much warmer receptions and lavish accommodations than you’ve received. I’d like to warn you in advance, in case you have any ideas to the contrary, that His Grace is exceedingly unlikely to mirror that treatment. I wouldn’t want your expectations to be… disappointed.”
Noah’s patience was already running on fumes and the sharp pang in his chest at the mention of Tama was stronger and more insistent than it had been before. His heartache was an old wound that had yet to fully heal, but today every being he encountered seemed hell-bent on poking at it.
“You, watch your tongue,” Noah seethed, his hands balling into white-knuckled fists. His voice came out strong, but his throat and chest were tight with barely restrained emotion. “It is your master’s land that is decaying, and your master who has been unable to put an end to it. I should remind you that if the part of the Mortal Realm bound to your master’s territory does die, so too will he, as the one who is bound to it. It is your master who needs my power, not me who is here to receive pampering.”
“You misunderstand,” Ezra bowed deeply, his expression hidden from Noah’s furious gaze. “I am only stating a fact. His Grace has never taken a bride before, let alone a human, nor has he ever had such interests.”
“I am not here to be cherished,” Noah said in a low, quiet voice. His jaw clenched tightly to keep the ache in his chest from overwhelming him. “My mana may have been tied to your master’s as his sacrificial bride, but this is a marriage in name alone—even an Astraeus cannot enter the Spirit Realm without already being tethered to a god. I came with the sole intention of mending what he has not, and nothing more than that.”
“...I seem to have struck a nerve,” Ezra said evenly. “I will excuse myself and give you a moment, your lordship. The bath servants will come to assist you in due time and help prepare you to meet His Grace.”
“Hmph. You clean up well, I suppose,” Miyuki huffed, using her power to coax the water out of Noah’s hair and back into the tub of rapidly cooling bathwater. “But I’m still much prettier!”
Miyuki and one other attendant who had been sent to assist him were chattering amongst themselves as if he wasn’t there. That was just as well because Noah himself was in no mood for idle chatter. His mind was a thousand miles away, torn between old grief, new frustration, and his own grim determination to set both aside and do what he had come here to do.
It didn’t matter how he was treated here. It didn’t matter how unwelcome he was, or how intent the territory’s god was on slighting him at every opportunity. Noah wasn’t going to fail this time. The people of Silverrun wouldn’t face the same fate that Tama’s people had.
Ice-cold hands swept his hair up the nape of his neck, twisting it up to pin it out of the way. The nature of Miyuki’s ambient powers rapidly cooled the air around her, but the attendant who had been sent with her balanced it out with soothing heat. Noah had been too distracted by his own thoughts to pay any attention to her introduction.
The new yokai was eye-catching, with warm red hair cascading down her back in glamorous waves and her faintly glowing, angled eyes. Her white-tipped red ears and full, swishing tail gave her away as a fox spirit. Warmth radiated from her skin like a soothing fire, easing the tension in Noah’s shoulders as she worked the washcloth over his skin with gentle pressure.
“Oh Miyuki, don’t fret,” she said kindly. “His Grace, dear Master Echethier, would never take interest in a mere human. I’m sure it’s only because this one is of the Astraeus clan that he’s allowed him this far at all. Can’t you sense his mana?”
“You do have an awful lot of mana,” Miyuki said, nearly drooling as she massaged a dry, sweetly fragranced oil into Noah’s skin. “And it does smell really delicious.”
“Miyuki,” the other attendant gently chided. “You can’t eat him. The Master has always been generous with you, but this one cannot be yours.”
“I know!” Miyuki huffed. “I was just saying that I get it, okay?”
“As long as you know,” the redhead hummed, sitting back on her heels to examine the shaman more critically once she deemed him sufficiently clean and exfoliated. “I don’t think we need any make-up… maybe a hair ornament?”
Miyuki frowned. “Do you really think the Master will care, Callie?”
“No, you’re right,” the redhead sighed. “We were asked to bring strictly the necessities for a reason. I suppose there isn’t much sense in using precious resources before we know how much the Master intends to make use of him. He may be an Astraeus, but you know how much disdain His Grace has for mankind. He may not want us to spare any luxuries for him. Fetch the clothes, will you?”
Noah slowly came back to reality as Miyuki left the room and the fox-eyed demon coaxed him to stand. She made quick work of drying off his body before wrapping him in a thick, warm towel. Her hands lingered on the fabric and comforting heat enveloped him, seeping down into his bones to replace the earlier chill. It was a small, simple kindness, but one that Noah hadn’t expected. For a yokai, the gesture was very human.
“Thank you,” Noah said. When was the last time someone else had even tried to take care of him? A lump rose in his throat. It was a stupid question. The last time—the only time anyone had treated him with kindness was his last time in the Spirit Realm. The only one who had ever treated him with softness rather than as a tool was Tama.
Tama, and now this poor fox yokai who was only trying to do her job.
“There, there,” the kitsune murmured soothingly. “No reason to cry.”
“I—” Noah stifled his protest, all too aware that his eyes were brimming with unshed tears. He tucked his face into his hand, hiding his expression. How embarrassing. He couldn’t remember the last time he had cried, but here he was, struggling to compose himself in front of a stranger. “This isn’t what you think—”
“I didn’t see a thing,” she said gently.
“Damn it,” Noah muttered, clenching his jaw tightly.
He inhaled deeply, attempting to regain his composure. His throat was still tight with emotion. Just how long had he been holding back that one small act of kindness could crack him back open?
“You are human, so you may have very few who will be willing to take your side here. But most bear you no ill-will,” the redhead explained softly. “And while I cannot stand for you, Lord Astraeus, neither will I stand against you.”
“Why are you telling me this…?” Noah asked, trailing off when he realized that he didn’t know her name.
“My name is Calliope, my lord, and my reason is simple. I have no wish to be on the wrong side of someone with the ability to help Master Echethier.” She bowed. “Ashbluff has been a troubled place for many, many years and I know it has worn on His Grace. I hope that you will be able to make good use of the unique divine mana possessed by the Astraeus clan and lift some of the burden from his shoulders.”
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