Gods of Samrasa

Taha hadn't made love to Nendas in a while.

She'd always enjoyed it, even if he was always very stiff in it all. The feel of him beneath her made her feel like he was an extension of herself. But that was when they'd been around fifteen.Now they were seventeen, and Nendas had been growing distant.

Taha had no illusions of marrying him; she hoped he'd marry some compliant doormat. One who wouldn't stand between them at all. Marriage was just a contract to get another person's money anyway.

But that was neither here nor there.

This silence was deafening.

"At last," said Rokas. "Tarasif. No doubt our noble king shall be pleased with our success." He almost kept the sarcasm out of his tone.

"What world do you live in?" asked Taha with a laugh. "We'll be lucky if he acknowledges what we did. Wait, was that sarcasm?"

"I do not know what you are talking about," said Rokas with a grin.

Rokas had a way of coping with what they did.

He'd never quite fit into the professional murderer lifestyle. But he had been thrust into it to make a living. When King Samrasa had run out of people to kill outside his borders, he turned to his people. Sure, there were some excuses. This god practiced child sacrifice, and one wore the wrong clothes.

But in the end, it was all about control.

Samrasa could have just as easily been targeting people for wearing a certain hat. It would not have mattered so long as the thing helped him get rich and feel like a visionary.

"We should not speak of things just yet," said Nendas. "Remember-"

"Don't boast about our accomplishments," said Taha. "It draws a bad eye. I know."

All of them had different ways of handling being professional murderers.

Rokas chose to see only the good and dwell in a fantasy world. He came out of it just enough to reign Nendas in and did his work. Nendas, on the other hand, focused largely on getting what he wanted out of life. He avoided stupid decisions that could mess with what he wanted. And he took what he wanted when he could.*

Taha, meanwhile, had a different approach.

Taha didn't care at all. She enjoyed being on the road and fully expected she'd die in battle in a ditch somewhere. She'd had a chance to retire in peace and had left it behind and gladly at that. She wanted to be with Nendas and never have to work menial labor again. Her days of cleaning and doing odd jobs were a hated memory.

Tarasif stood before them now, and the ancient stone gates were like the entrance to a tomb. The structures were like great beehives, each of a different size. Taha had come to this place from some land far away. The name escaped her, and she was never going back. Why would she? No one had been allowed to drink alcohol, and her parents frowned on her killing people. To say nothing of ditching Tamar after she outlived her usefulness.

Not that Tamar existed, of course. Taha just found it easier to think of the church dedicated to Tamar as Tamar. The names of those who had trained her have long-forgotten memories. Her fellow initiates had never been anything but competition.

Taha lived to do what she was best at.

"Hmm, so they've decided to repurpose some of the temples after all," said Nendas. He was looking up at one of the older temples. Some priests were being herded out in chains. Once, they'd been very important. "Good, the stonework was excellent, and destroying it would be unfortunate."

"I cannot see King Samrasa destroying so ancient a structure," said Rokas, not looking at the chains.

"Perhaps," said Nendas. "But some of his followers are less respectful of the past."

"Yeah, I..." Taha paused. Suddenly she felt something and thought it was a cold hand on her face, but it was the wind. "I'm going to get a drink, I think."

"Why?" asked Nendas. "You usually ask us to go with you."

"I need the alcohol," said Taha. "And I need to think. Besides, you never say yes anyway."

"I may join you later at the usual place," said Rokas.

Taha turned and walked away, hands in her pockets. As she did, she looked upwards toward the sky above. The night was falling, and the stars were coming out in force. The moon above her was invisible in the darkness, covered by clouds. Tamar was said to manifest her power strongest the more the moon was visible.

Oddly enough, Taha's feet carried her to a place she didn't usually go. Getting a drink at the tavern, Taha almost drank. But she hesitated, feeling as though she was waiting for something.

And then came in through the door.

The girl Taha saw was her age and, put, absolutely gorgeous. She had these long, flawless legs that her clothes clung to, and the knives at her belt were amazing. Seriously, those things were of unworldly craftsmanship. You could throw them straight through fully steel armor and still kill your man.

Hmm, hadn't Taha been looking over the rest of her? Eh, the knives were much more interesting than the woman's body, anyway. Although it was a very nice body, Taha wondered why she was there. And why she was carrying a fan.

To her surprise, the other girl moved right up to her. "You called Taha?"

"I'm sorry, what?" said Taha. She'd never seen this woman before in her life.

What disturbed her was that the girl was looking up Taha much the way Taha had been her. She was used to being the most outgoing person in a conversation and felt somewhat naked. Her eyes, were bright blue and only stood out all the more by her hair.

"You've certainly changed a lot since you joined up with me from your village," said the girl. "I can tell you've increased your skills a great deal, and from the looks of things, you've killed people. A lot of people, actually.

"Though I guess you'd have to make a living somehow."

Okay, this had gone from strange to surreal. And why were other people in the bar visibly leaving? The bartender went into the back room. "I'm sorry, what? I... have we met."

"Yes, obviously we've met," said the girl. "Where have you been? Why haven't we talked in five years?"

Taha thought this was a very strange way to ensnare someone. She finished her drink in one gulp. "I have no idea who you are."

"A joke," said the girl. "Ah, very funny. Drop the act. I want to know where you have been and what my techniques are being used for?"

Okay, so... some sort of zealot. "...What, are you part of the Cult of Tamar?"

"Did you take a hit to the head when I wasn't looking? The answer is obvious," said the girl.

"Okay, is this some really weird form of interrogation?" asked Taha. "Some sort of loyalty test?

Because if the king wants to disappear me-"

"In a manner of speaking," said the girl. "Then again, I'd say you were the one who tested me first. You did call me down here. Well, first, you scoffed at my ability to intervene, then you said I was welcome to show up. So, here I am."

Taha stared at her, not finding this funny. "...You're claiming to be Tamar."

"No, really?" asked Tamar sarcastically.

"...No," said Taha with a laugh. "I left the cult years ago. I did good work there. I don't owe you anything."

"I never said you did," said Tamara. "You do have a relationship with me, though, and you've got obligations to fulfill. Why didn't you ever try to keep in touch with me?"

Taha decided that the possibility of sleeping with her was not worth the headache. So she stood up. "...You're a lunatic.

"You are not a Goddess." And she walked toward the door. The latch did not turn.

"How do you know I'm not a Goddess?" asked Tamar.

Taha looked up. "Please, if you were Tamar, you'd have power over winds and-"

A vast gust of wind howled throughout the city street outside. The window shutters were flung open, and air howled around them. Taha went for a knife and found she couldn't quite get it out of its sheathe.

"I'm sorry, I can't hear you over the wind howling in our ears," said Tamar with a sly smile.

Taha paused. "...Coincidence. You used the cloud patterns to predict that wind and timed our conversation, so it happened then. I've done something like it."

"Have you?" asked Tamar. "You mean when you suggested Samrasa engage the enemy since you saw clouds coming. You knew the wind would be at your back, hurting their arrows and speeding your charge.

"Which is all very impressive. Still, I'm not sure it's quite in the league of what you suggest."

"Well, all you'd have to do is time it for when I was in this place with the right weather patterns and..." Taha hesitated.

"Predict the exact moment a gale would blow in and steer your conversation to it?" asked Tamar. "I mean, I did do that. These winds were on their way here weeks ago. But I'm not sure how being able to do that disproves me being a god."

"...You could have been among the other priestesses," said Taha. "You'd need to do a lot of research, but... You're some kind of stalker, aren't you? You've been following me around-"

"I was among the priestesses!" said Tamar, sounding offended. "I was the person they were dedicating themselves to!"

"No, you weren't. Gods don't exist," said Taha. "It's just a get-rich-quick scheme. A means of making sure the poor don't murder the rich and take their material possessions."

"Get rich quick, scheme?" asked Tamar. "What about all the knife techniques I taught you? Or the hooks and rabid dogs that tore up Munsuf? That was a personal touch I added for you.

"Though he was only waiting for damnation by this point. You can't let mortals get away with that thing, or it sets a precedent."

"I've made a pretty good living off them," said Taha. "And being able to kill people is very useful for keeping your power intact."

Tamar sighed. "...This is getting us nowhere. I could summon down a host of demons, and you'd explain it away as a hallucination. So let's do things your way.

"I'll tell you what. I'll challenge you to a fight. If you can defeat me, I'll leave you alone. But if I win, you must start listening to what I say."

"Sure, whatever you want," said Taha. "This has wasted enough of my time as it is."

"Well then. Let's step outside," said Tamar.

And they did. Taha needed to figure out how they ended up in a clearing overlooking the city. The stars were illuminating them. Tamar, however, was spinning her fan and shedding her knives. In a moment, the one fan became two that she held. "For this match, you can use any means you want. No restrictions at all."

"Fine then," said Taha, sick of this.

Drawing a knife, she hurled it straight at Tamar's throat. Boring and practical, it sailed with perfect accuracy and-

A sudden gust of wind saw it veer off to plunge into a tree.

"...Hmm, you went straight for the throat. Very bold," said Tamar. "I guess you missed, though. But I'm sure that was just a fluke. Try again."

Taha felt no wind. Moving in a circle, she hurled three knives at Tamar's head, hand, and heart. However, even as she did, the wind kicked in and spun them around over Tamar. Suddenly they launched toward Taha, and she narrowly dodged. The blades to were driven down suddenly to plunge into the ground.

"Hmm, those are some strange wind patterns, aren't they? Want to try again?" asked Tamar.

Taha stayed calm.

It was obvious some magic was at work here, so that misdirection would be necessary. Hurling a dagger at Tamar as a diversion, Taha then went on to her real attack. She threw another at a slow pace. Then she threw a second after it, knocking it in midair. As a result, the second blade spun toward Tamar, who was busy knocking aside the diversion-

And then Tamar was gone.

Leaping high into the air, she surged through it and landed behind Taha. Taha whirled around and saw Tamar's face inches from her own. Taha tried to move, but looking into those eyes froze her muscles solid.

"Huh, and here I thought you were going to show me a trick or two," said Tamar, licking Taha's lips and showing fangs. "But the only thing you've used are the most mundane moves I teach most people. The ones are practical for combat. Fine, let's add some excitement." She raised her fans, and the surface became reflective. A sliver of moon was reflected down on them. "I'll give you until the moon is full to impress me."

Then she leaped away.

Ranged combat was going to be useless here. So Taha drew a dagger and just rushed at her. Even as she did, however, the winds kicked up to immense degrees, pushing her back. The closer she got to Tamar, the stronger the pressure became until she was thrown back. Spinning backward, Taha found another wind catch her underneath and slow her fall.

"Still nothing, huh?" asked Tamar. The moon was now a half-moon.

"What do you expect?!" said Taha. "There... there's a hurricane going on around us. How am I supposed to throw daggers in this kind of wind."

"And who do you think summoned the hurricane, Taha?" asked Tamar. "Who controls the air those daggers you throw go through?

"I said any means. You're the master knife thrower who thinks she can beat me at my own tricks. Prove it."

Taha was starting to think Tamar was not an ordinary crazy person. "I...

"You can't be..."

She couldn't be Tamar, could she?

"Been a while, hasn't it?" asked Tamar. "Glad it's finally sinking in. I don't remember you being this slow, though. I guess working as a hired killer hasn't been good for your sense of faith.

"You really should do something about all that blood on your hands. It takes away from your appeal. I liked you as a cheerful innocent; I relished the idea of tearing that innocence up. Though this new look has some nice qualities too."

"Who..." Taha gasped. "What is this? Who are you?" And when the hell had she ever been a cheerful innocent?

"Oh, come on! We've been over this!" said Tamar. "After you built your entire career on my blessings, the least you could do is remember me. The moon is nearly full, by the way."

"Blessings?" asked Taha. "What are you talking about? I didn't learn knife throwing from you. My teachers were older than me..."

"...Have you been hit on the head recently? I've told you who I am. Several times now," said Tamar.

"You..." Taha shifted. "You can't be Tamar the Wind Goddess!"

"Why not? I control the winds," said Tamar.

"Because gods aren't real!" said Taha,

Tamar sighed. "Did you not pay attention to what I just did to you?

"I'm not happy, Taha. I gave you all those abilities and favorable winds for them, and you've given me... hmm, let's see... no sacrifices at altars. No letters. You've never tried to get in touch since leaving the cult.

"What, did you think you stopped being mine because you weren't going to the temples?"

"You aren't Tamar!" said Taha. "You somehow predicted that those winds would be here now and used them to..." No, that was nearly as absurd as Tamar being a god. "You can't be real."

And then Tamar was in front of her, cupping her by the cheek and fixing her with those eyes. And before Taha could even think about moving, she felt Tamar's lips. The blonde drew back, motioning. As she did, Taha was lifted off the ground by warm winds. She tried to get free.

This is a hallucination. She'd been drugged or something.

"I am real, obviously," said Tamar. "Now, answer the question. Why have you waited until now to try and talk to me? Why did I have to track you down on the opposite side of the world to get your attention? And why have you brainwashed yourself into believing I don't exist!"

Tamar looked angry now. Angry and hurt.

"Um... well I..." Taha struggled to get out. "Well, Tarasif is sort of in the middle of trying to destroy all the religions and um...

"I lost my faith!"

Tamar sat down as the winds raised her upward. "Yeah, I'm not buying it, Taha. I could understand a lack of offerings because of King Samrasa, but no prayers. Not a thought spared for me? Every invocation of my power is marked with, 'but it's not really from a Goddess.'

"What is the real reason you broke your oath as my priestess?"

This was all just a hallucination. So it couldn't hurt, to be honest, right? "I never wanted to be a priestess!"

Tamar stopped. "What?

"What do you mean? Then why did you join the cult?"

"I... I didn't think you were real!" said Taha.

Tamar scoffed. "Oh sure, that's believable. You had a crisis of faith only after training in all the highest arts of the trade. A crisis of faith that nobody noticed at all. That happened right as you were being chosen as my priestess. And coincidentally, only happened AFTER you learned all the high arts.

"Tell me why you left. You put far too much work into this for it to be that."

"I..." Taha felt as though Tamar was growing ever larger. She was shaking now. "I didn't think I was worthy of the position."

"I can tell when you're lying, Taha," said Tamar. "And if you lie again, I'm going to get very cross with you.

"Answer the question."

"I never wanted to be a priestess!" screamed Taha at last. "I never even wanted to join the religion! I didn't care about the faith or the ceremonies! I didn't want anything to do with you! I just wanted to learn the knife tricks!"

The winds stopped. Taha was put gently down, and Tamar got back on her feet. For a moment, Tamar walked over to her, sheathed her fans, and put them away. "...I will give you credit. That was not a lie.

"And I'm not cross. I'm enraged.

"You entered my cult, observed my rituals, took my blessings, and then left me alone on the altar. And judging by some of the knife techniques you spread out here, I'd say you taught a thing or two to others."

"I didn't..." This wasn't happening; she was having a drug-induced breakdown. She'd come out of it or die. "I didn't think you were real."

"Well, I am real, Taha. And I am very, very angry with you," said Tamar simply. "Do you have anything to say?"

What could Taha say here? Well, she was completely screwed, so she had to play along with this maniac. So, Taha took the drug-induced feelings of guilt and used them to repent. "I... I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I didn't think there were any gods. I'll... I'll hang up my knives! I'll never tell anyone about your techniques again; please just don't-"

Before Taha could finish, Tamar flicked her wrist, and the winds lifted her up again. "Oh, I'm sorry, Taha. You seem to be under the impression that I came here for your knives.

"I came here for you."

"M-me?" asked Taha.

"Yes, you thought I wasn't real. That you were scamming my priests instead of me," said Tamar. "Obviously, you were wrong. But I guess you didn't think you were cheating a Goddess.

"So, I'll treat this offense like one mortal to another. Like we made a contract between equals."

Thank goodness, this psychopath was going to let her go. She could get the city guard or pay her off. "I... thank you, I...

"I promise you won't regret this; I won't-"

And then the winds deposited Taha into the arms of Tamar, who was giving her a very cold smile. Taha tried to move and was stuck in place.

"You wanted to learn my techniques," said Tamar. "And in exchange, you owe me everything you are down to your very soul.

"Not a very good deal to make with a mortal."

Before Taha could speak again, Tamar, the Goddess, rose into the sky. She carried her like a bride and pulled her into the clouds. And all Taha could do was faint.

*This chapter was based on information from a different source. This leads to a disconnect of sorts. Information previously covered is gone over again. There different interpretations of Nendas and Rokas, thus different portrayal.

Tanith has deliberately altered Rokas' exchange with Taha early in the chapter. In the initial writing, it was completely genuine. Taha also seems to be less violent and deranged in this reading of events.

I have left it unaltered for the sake of a faithful adaptation. It is certainly not because Tanith was looking over my shoulder.