A Real Goddess Would Let Nobody Die

"Tell me, Zyriko. Women in armor: yea, or nay?"

Suri's mother massaged her brows, ostensibly a long-suffering wife, while Suri, seated next to her, remained in expressionless stare mode. They were on the opposite side of the transport, facing Zyriko and his father-in-law. Strangely, both mother and daughter were already wearing the formal Keyic armor, even though the trip to the Tvokess domain, in the far west, would take nearly two days. True, Zyriko had worn his for the whole trip from the Zyzz domain, but he'd had his reasons.

"Yeaaaaaa," Zyriko exhaled. Whatever Suri's motive, he wasn't complaining. It had been too long since he'd seen the Goddess of War dressed for battle. Not since he'd married Her.

"See?" Suri's father gloated to his wife. "It's not 'an ill-conceived fetish of a diseased mind'; it's the enlightened perspective of a man who has married a Keyic Heiress. So then, Zyriko, hear me out. I have made some observations which lead me to believe that, with our efforts combined, we could convince them to grace us with full plate. You with me?"

Zyriko imagined it for one eighth of a second.

"What's the plan?"

"Immur," Suri's mother interrupted. "Do consider the practicality. Neither Suri nor I could be mistaken for a lumberjack. Even if we were inclined to indulge your...shared peculiar fantasy, we would be unable to move."

Zyriko's father-in-law leaned toward him.

"Ignore her," he murmured, more than loud enough for them to hear. "It's within their talents to keep the weight manageable. More importantly, see how much thought Tyri has put into it, already mulling the practical concerns?! Mm, and this seating arrangement she chose?" He turned back to his wife, and pointed from his eyes to her, with two fingers. "It's no accident. She knows I'll be admiring, for the whoooooole trip. That's a woman who wants to be persuaded. With just the slightest, encouraging push..." He mimed putting on a helmet, and closing the visor.

In an impressive display of a skill honed across decades, Zyriko's mother-in-law managed to side-eye her husband while staring straight at him.

"Surely the weight is important to the look? It would need to be heavy to look heavy."

Her husband rapidly jabbed his finger at her, eyes wide. "See!? See!?"

His wife ignored him. "And I chose this seating arrangement because watching those two sit beside each other would be too much for an old mother's heart."

Suri stood up, crossed to Zyriko, and sat in his lap.

"His tunic needs charging, regularly," She explained, calmly inspecting Her nails.

Her mother's lips trembled.

"Guhhhh. This is worse. Immur, come."

"I dunno. The view from over here is exceptional."

"...I'll start with the helmet."

Suri's father teleported to his daughter's vacated chair.

"'Twas a pleasure, Zyriko."

Zyriko wasn't sure that he'd actually done anything to help, but it had worked out well enough for everyone.

"I'm so sorry you can hear us, Sieniel," the Matriarch apologized.

"No no, it's quite amusing. Pretend I'm not here."

Zyriko still didn't know what to make of the letter that Suri had received from Nyrkatess of Tvokess, near the beginning of her grandfather's mourning period. It was possible to read between the lines and find a powerful potential ally who was playing a character, yet Zyriko had his doubts. At Suri and Zyriko's reception, Nyrkatess had eagerly shown off her "liquid ivory" materialized mana, but Zyriko had only been able to see dilute urine. And unlike the Keyics, Izenakee did know of the Tvokess lineage, for the wrong reasons. But Zyriko himself had come from Zyzz, so he would keep an open mind.

----

There were much worse fates than Minye's. True, she hadn't seen her real family since she was a toddler. She had only vague memories of cold and snow that could not be from the tropical Tvokess domain. She had been taught so many languages that if she even still spoke her true mother tongue, she didn't know which it was. But it could be much, much, much worse. So much worse.

"Villacqui, which do you like better?" Nyrkatess asked.

She was holding two necklaces that any mother of a deathly-feverish child would trade her life for, but for her and Minye, they were nothing more than extravagant jewelry.

"The more understated one allows your own beauty to shine through, Heiress," Minye answered. "The other is too ostentatious to suit you."

Part of Minye's job was to serve as Nyrkatess' personal lifelong sycophant, but that answer was her honest opinion. There was no need for her to lie or prevaricate: Nyrkatess' vanity was entirely justified. Entirely. Striking green eyes, golden hair braided into a crown with a bun at the top of her neck and wavy strands from her temples, skin that only first rank white divine power could achieve, and a face sculpted by a hundred generations of life-manipulation, including Nyrkatess' own skillful touches as she grew: suffice to say, Nyrkatess of Tvokess had no fiancé because she didn't want one.

"Oh you!" Nyrkatess giggled behind an exquisitely manicured ivory hand. "You know I'm not Heiress until the ceremony!" Minye did know, and she also knew how to win giggles and smiles. "And I didn't mean for me, silly! For you! My captivating Villacqui cannot be anything short of her most stunning at my own investiture! That simply won't do! It would ruin everything!"

"You spoil me, Nyrkatess," Villacqui demurred, smiling shyly behind her own exquisitely manicured ivory hand. This, too, was both the response expected of her and also authentic.

Minye constantly felt guilty about how badly she wanted to let go of her misgivings, and allow herself to be spoiled without worrying over the details. She sincerely enjoyed this life she shared with Nyrkatess, that Nyrkatess created and safeguarded for her, except for all those details.

Normally, having the misfortune to be 'captivating' was a curse for someone like Villacqui. Minye's life as Villacqui ought to be so much worse than it was, that she wondered if the True Goddess might have done what She could to answer the prayers that little Minye's parents had surely made, when their daughter was stolen from them. Prayers that they were probably still making, if they were still alive--slaves had poor life expectancy. With Nyrkatess always nearby, Minye never dared to pray for answers, or thanks. Villacqui was as weak as a white 'goddess' could be, but even she could see the red impression generated when the True Goddess was watching, and Nyrkatess was vastly stronger.

Vastly. Nyrkatess had confided to Villacqui, years ago, that she did not share her parents' chagrin at her being nearly but not quite power-marked. Only Villacqui knew, because that sentiment was dangerous to voice. The truth was that Nyrkatess liked herself as she was, and being stronger would not necessarily be a pure upgrade. The Keyic Heiress was proof that not all power-marked 'goddesses' paid a material price for their immaterial transcendence, but it was impossible to know how likely such an outcome truly was, given biases and contradictions in the historical record.

"Come now! Don't be shy!" Nyrkatess encouraged. "Pick your favorite! Ahhh, I can't wait!" Her earnest smile of pure enthusiasm made Minye's heart flutter.

As much as Minye felt that she ought to hold Nyrkatess in contempt for her fixation on glamour, she simply couldn't. Her honest judgment, deep down, was that it was a mostly harmless and at times endearing personality quirk, with understandable origins. And, frankly, it would be hypocritical.

"...I-if you truly wish to spoil me so, my choice is unchanged. Were I to wear the other, I would feel ridiculous, like I thought wearing a flamboyant necklace would make me outshine you." The best sycophant was one who could always speak from the heart.

With Villacqui's verdict so unambiguous, Nyrkatess judged the doubly-disfavored necklace to be no longer worthy of existing in her world, and summarily tossed it aside, onto the flawless ivory floor. An attendant in white and gold livery hurried from her place near the flawless ivory wall to retrieve it. She placed it into a golden bag, using tongs so as not to defile it or the divine power inside without permission, then darted back to the wall, head down the whole time.

It was details like these that prevented Minye from unreservedly enjoying this life she had, but otherwise, she couldn't imagine one she would prefer. It was shallow and silly and vain and indulgent, and reservations aside, she loved every decadent second of it.

"Sit, sit!" Nyrkatess urged, voice strained with excitement.

Minye settled with practiced elegance into the chair in front of her owner's mirror, simultaneously eager and guilty.

Very few could afford a gift as expensive as Villacqui had been, her white 'divine power' being relatively rare and associated with beauty, health, and purity. As fate would have it, the most illustrious white lineage on the continent was enthusiastic about conspicuous consumption; healers of the highest rank could charge whatever their patients were able to pay, and then some. So, Villacqui had belonged to Nyrkatess of Tvokess since they were both young children, an ostentatious variant of buying an adorable pet for one's adorable granddaughter. Realistically, that was the best thing that could possibly have happened, an outright miracle. No pet in the history of the Universe had been so thoroughly cherished. Villacqui had been pampered and fawned over in this ivory chair with gold trim many thousands of times.

To begin this current session, Nyrkatess carefully applied all the usual 'blessings.' The not-quite-power-marked Tvokess not-yet-Heiress was a 'goddess' of few skills, because all of her effort and talent and passion was invested in this ritual, and relatedly, fashion, style, and manipulating flowers. Villacqui's own 'divine power' was too feeble to do anything except change her fate, but Nyrkatess had never been stingy about sharing. Now and always, Villacqui received all the same treatments, with the same degree of care, as Nyrkatess applied to herself. Minye often wondered what she would look like if Nyrkatess hadn't poured so many thousands of hours and oceans of 'divine power' into her over the years, but she was in no hurry to find out. 

Nyrkatess always pampered Villacqui, at every opportunity: same 'blessings' together, same sophisticated hairstyles together, same food together, matched clothing and jewelry, the whole works. If hosts wanted Nyrkatess to attend their events, and did they ever, then they had to accept that Villacqui would be attached to her the whole time, and the future Tvokess Matriarch's enchanting smile would become a scowl and grudge the second Villacqui was mistreated.

If Minye could live like this without all the troubling details, it would be perfect. Instead, she spent her time mulling how she could coax her eccentric, ditzy, selectively-benevolent companion to look around, to think, and notice that this gilded ivory palace they lived in was tainted, without risking everything.

But not today. Today was the start of a party, and not just any party. Nyrkatess' investiture as Heiress would be the grandest stage of her life and, therefore, Villacqui's.

To receive today's arriving guests, the Heiress-to-be was dressed in a simple, sleeveless ivory gown, hanging loosely to the ankle straps of golden sandals. There were long, plain golden bands around her upper arms, plain golden bracelets on each wrist, and dangling golden disk earrings on each ear, but her neckline seemed to be missing something, because it was begging for the golden medallion she would soon inherit from her father. This same ivory-and-gold color scheme was used everywhere in the Tvokess palace, from decor to attendant livery, and of course, ivory-and-gold was Nyrkatess' own coloring, aside from her sea-green eyes.

She took Villacqui's breath away. She always did.

Since the Heiress needed to dress in the family colors, Nyrkatess' outfit was forced to omit green. So, that was the color of the similar gown that Villacqui was wearing. As always, her black hair was in the same style, a crown and bun and wavy strands from her temples to her chin, and she wore all the same accessories. Nyrkatess and Villacqui were always a pair.

As Nyrkatess' family saw it, she needed to take her pet everywhere, and it needed to be obvious who owned her, and she needed to be dressed lavishly, and made as attractive as possible, to maximize the impact of the conspicuous consumption that was the whole point of Villacqui's existence. Moreover, how better to flaunt a one-in-a-billion supernatural beauty than to have a one-in-ten-thousand one follow her around, styled for direct comparison?

Nyrkatess' own motives were not so nefarious. Minye was quite certain.

Once she finished her 'blessings,' Nyrkatess put Villacqui's chosen necklace into place, slipped a golden flower bloom into her crown braid near her left ear, and stepped back. Seeing her eyes and the necklace together in the mirror, Villacqui belatedly realized why Nyrkatess had called her silly, for not immediately recognizing that the necklaces were for her: They were both encrusted with gray diamonds that perfectly matched Villacqui's own eyes. The one she had picked, now in place on her neck, had crashing waves wrapping in a loop--the underlying 'divine item' band--with many tiny stones artfully placed to emulate the glistening of the sea.

Villacqui felt so utterly gorgeous, and cherished, that the True Goddess must sense it. Those stones could have been jade.

Although she was captivated by her own reflection, Villacqui could see a blissful smile shining from where Nyrkatess stood behind the chair. Minye's own appearance caused her to shed a tear of awe and fulfillment and guilt, which Nyrkatess dried with a cleaning 'blessing' and affirming nod.

"Perfect," she purred, slipping an ivory bloom into her own golden braid, on the right. "Now we're ready. Let's go captivate."

Nyrkatess' motives for spoiling Villacqui and doing everything as a pair were that she loved her and had more fun that way.

The temptation to let go of Minye's reservations, and allow Villacqui to enjoy her indulgent life with Nyrkatess to the fullest, was always present. At this moment, it was the strongest it had ever been.

There was a rapping on the door, and Nyrkatess' blissful smile vanished. The most beautiful things were the most fragile.