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Neoklis, Anax of Tritos, was no longer the Head Priest of Tritos.

The news spread like a flood through the streets of the greatest city of Parsimoni, spilling well beyond. The water of the news chilled and caused shock, driving attendance to the Thing to an all-time high.

And filling the Temples to the point of excess.

The few nobles present for the summoning made it impossible to keep the events of it under wraps, but everyone had a version of it that they swore was the truth and all other misunderstandings or lies. Even the aristoi, who had access to those actually present, could not stick to any one version, and the events in it started diverging like waves.

The Elders and the officials in the Thing tried to discredit as much as they could, but the simple fact that an Elder was stripped of his priestly robes substantiated just about all the rumors going around.

This was the sort of reaction that Alessia had been hoping for. This was the sort of social calamity that served her father right. This was the sort of complete victory that she had absolutely no right to expect, yet the last few days had grown the fruits of her efforts fat and pulpy.

But it couldn’t stop their juices from being painfully bitter.

Alessia had set all of this fiasco in motion and had directed its direction. Matters had spiraled out of her hands in the worst of ways, but that was little consolation.

She got what she wanted after all.

She got to watch her father on the days after the summoning, but they had yet to have a single conversation. Not like they needed one. The enormity of his failure contrasted heavily against that little public betrayal of hers at the end. Not in his mind, of course; the only thing Alessia did was not stand behind him against the gods. But in hers.

She alone knew the truth. She and the gods.

The fact, the sad fact of the matter, was that when her father was discredited, humiliated, abandoned and betrayed, he had managed to muster the strength to defend her mother.

Something that Alessia in her victory, in praise, in resplendent ascendancy, had not been able to mimic.

Nor at any moment since.

“It’s not your fault, darling,” Anessia, Alessia’s aunt, had tried her best to ‘console’ her, “Not even I could have known about what your mother was doing. Couldn’t imagine, even.”

“...right,” Alessia nonchalantly said, because there was absolutely no point in saying anything else.

“That we are moving on with this farce and acting as though nothing happened, well, it strains my believability, as well,” the older woman shook her head, “And has my poor husband in quite the shock, let me tell you.”

“Oh, but that’s nothing to say of my poor brother,” she snorted as she still drank wine, even at this time, “I bet your fight with him doesn’t look so bad now, yes?”

However, this was something Alessia could certainly respond to.

“It’s meaningless,” she replied, opening the lid on her heart by the smallest margins.

“It was all so meaningless.”

Times like that, she felt so alone. Her aunt just did not understand. Could not understand.

She did not recognize Alessia’s victory for what it was, and that was by design. Alessia planned on sipping from it like her aunt sipped wine, taking little pleasure at the outcomes and reminders of her father’s fall.

And, indeed, she now could, she supposed.

“The slave traders are taking advantage of me,” Sabina, the utterly vile Anilan, confessed to Alessia on the last day of the Thing. The acolyte could not bear to stand on the shade of the plaza while everyone stared at them. Stared at her silent father and the facade she had no choice but to put up.

Stare at the empty seat by them, the one that had always been meant for her mother.

“I could just buy cheap right now, and buy value later when we port on actual civilized lands,” the woman continued grumbling, using Alessia’s presence to dump some weight off Sabina’s shoulders.

Something that Alessia had sought her out to do herself, but now that she was here it was hard to ignore how pathetic that made her.

“‘I can just work them to death’, you might say,” Sabina ranted, “But the trip here to the Capital is not long enough to get that much use out of them. Not by Torchship! I’ll have to basically give them away!”

“Do you have any idea how many slaves we are going to need just to move that retched bireme? We have less than a skeleton crew now. Just five of us in a vessel that big!”

“With an order of slaves this large, the only way I can make back any sort of investment with this Parsimoni pigfeed is if the product is good enough that I can sell it for a premium in the Anilan market,” she continued pacing back and forth.

“All these years of good relations, gifts and favors amount to nothing when they know that this is probably the last time I’ll be dealing with them, “Sabina sneered, “Bah, those fucking cunts, the feeling is mutual!”

“But I digress,” she finally calmed down, “I really am quite happy to see you one last time before we left.”

“Truthfully, I should have known your mother would have gotten fucked at some point,” she said, “But for it to happen when I finally straddled her daughter? Fuck, this must be the gods punishing me!”

Alessia fixed her with a glare.

“Right, yes, sorry,” the Anilan was quick to apologize, “I meant to say, you are the real victim of this, really.”

“No,” Alessia softly replied, “No I am not.”

That was Frija.

And it was because of Alessia.

The Thing ended without further problems and without any other serious debate.

Neoklis’ election to Anax was called into question by a very few, but it didn’t get any traction: There was not much point in shifting the blame to him after the gods had, in the worst way possible, absolved him of it. No, he worked better as an active shield for future blemishes.

What the Tristos aristoi had done, regardless of lineage, was quite a dangerous thing to do with rather disquieting implications. The potential Torchbearers they had knowingly or unknowingly kept away from the clergy would be “expected” to be turned over to the Elders of the Pantheon, but that was not the same as having to pay any sort of punishment for it.

Not when Frija, the Torch whore some whispered, was there to bear any and all discipline.

The first time when Alessia got to see her after the fiasco during the Summoning, was the day she was to set sail out again.

This time? “With something that could outweigh her transgressions.”

So essentially, Frija was being exiled.

“The Marin thanks Tritos for having her,” Frija, sullen of face, tall of stature, disgraced but still, somehow, resplendent in a silk tunic like she always was, told an official of Tritos.

It wasn’t the Anax, like it usually was, no. But then, her father wasn’t even here. Not that anybody expected him to be, all things considered. This one was the Master of Coin, Alessia thought? Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t. His name escaped her all the same.

“Tritos appreciates all you’ve done for it,” the official replied then hesitated, “...and wishes you divine forgiveness in your voyage, Torch Captain.”

It was all Alessia could do to keep from clicking her tongue.

“Your holds have enough water, Torch Captain?” Elder Eulalia was there and asked Alessia’s mother.

“Enough to last us till our next port,” Frija of red eyes said with a heavy voice.

“Do you have enough food?” Elder Zina was also there and asked her.

“Enough to feed us till our next port,” Frija replied again.

“What of your crew, Torch Captain,” Eulalia asked, “I hear that there have been some…departures from your roster.”

“There are-” the Nori older woman forced herself to say, “-enough to take the Marin to its next port.”

“I suppose it wouldn’t have mattered if they weren’t,” Elder Eulalia grunted, “This is goodbye then, Torch Captain. I, too, hope, you find forgiveness along the way.”

The loss of a Torchship and its most legendary Captain would be a huge loss to Tritos, that was true enough. It was still less of a loss than having all other cities in Parsimoni arrayed against it. The Elders were rather annoyed that this sacrifice left Tritos off the hook, and allowed the aristoi who had been hoarding possible Torchbearers the leave to try again in the future unabated.

Bu then, the future was a land with unresolved matters.

“Likewise,” Zina added, “But, ah, we would be remiss if we didn’t allow our acolyte to say her goodbyes as well.”

She gestured Alessia forward.

“Just between us, however,” she told Frija, “Her apprenticeship is at an end: There is absolutely no reason to keep her from donning our shawls and stepping up as a Priestess.”

“...thank you,” Alessia’s mother wholeheartedly said.

“And…Alessia-” she talked to her for the first time in days.

It was probably the last too, “-I am sorry.”

“I am so, so, sorry.”

“I understand if you no longer regard me as a mother,” she cleared her throat, her voice heavy,” But I want you to know that I-I never meant for any of this to hurt you.”

“You were always the last good thing that I’d done in this world,” she softly said.

Alessia rushed out and hugged her.

“Mom,” she said and her mother had to stifle a sob in response, “I-this is not over, you hear me?”

It was an illogical and insane thing to say, as there was nothing in the world that really could make up for her adulterous actions and worship of a strange god, but Alessia said them anyway.

“Just you wait, Mom,” she still pushed the determination growing in her heart, “I’ll make it happen.”

“...I don’t think it’s up to you, yellow rose,” Frija caressed her face, “And I don’t want you to kill yourself over me, of all people.”

“Go, live your life, thrive as I know only you can,” she told her, “If you do that, my life will have meant something.”

13 pregnancies, 3 abortions and many abandonments. Prostitution and deliverer of sexual favors. Depraved and unclean. Apostate, even.

Everyone thought that Alessia had ample reason to hate her mother now. That she should, point in fact.

But, in the end, she guessed the fruit didn’t fall far from the tree, for she was turning out to be a bit like her father. A hypocrite this might make her, but her mother?

She was hers.

Alesseia’s mother was Alessia’s.

Frija should belong to her!

So she said nothing else, because she wasn’t here to argue.

She was just here to make a promise.

So she took her mother by the shoulders.

And leaned on her toes to reach her face.

She pushed through the gasp of surprise that her mother uttered.

And pressed her lips against hers.

It was a quick peck yet and definitely not the thing she was supposed to do.

Still she gave it and left her mother flabbergasted as Alessia walked away from her.

“Alessia-” her mother said.

“The Marin needs to be out of Port as soon as possible, Torch Captain,” the official from the Thing reminded her, an eyebrow raised as he looked at Alessia’s back, “The city cannot and will not extend it for the sake of one of its daughters, even if they be aristocia and a future priestess.”

“Get started,” he advised Frija as Alessia walked with a purpose even as she was joined by the Elders.

“I know you meant nothing by it, young Alessia,” Zina said as stepped side by her, “And I can’t imagine that I would be acting rational if I were in your robes, but I would advise you not to kiss your father like that, too, when you next see him.”

Alessia almost lost her step.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Alessia promised.

“Slow down, girl!” Eulalia hurried up, ”Do you think my old age gives me wings?”

“Apologies, Elder,” she slowed down and felt frustrated at having to do so.

She didn’t have much time.

“Not that I understand, I assure you,” Eulalia breathed with relief as their pace matched his, “And it neatly slides us into a discussion that we wanted to have with you.”

Alessia blinked, “What about?”

“We’ll leave Tritos in a few days,” Zina replied, “After we’ve arranged things with the Tritos temple priests.”

“Can’t have things getting cocked up in our absence,” Eulalia explained.

“But when we leave, you are coming with us,” Zina informed her.

“What?” Alessia frowned, “Why?”

“It wouldn’t be a good idea for you to stay in Tritos,” Zina answered, “Not after everything that has happened. We cannot allow you to be tainted by what has happened here.”

“You were instrumental in catching this problem early,” Eulalia scoffed, “But many among the Elders might still be inclined to judge you by association if we allow things to remain as they are.”

“Besides, we’ve danced enough around your anointment,” Zina declared.

“We’ll gather a Meet and have you a Light up a Torch all in your lonesome in front of them. Back in a more pious place,” the Elder nodded.

“It’s truly absurd that someone that someone with your knowledge of the rites and the ear for the gods like you do isn’t anointed already,” Eulalia said.

Someday, she decided, Alessia would repay them.

Somehow, some way, they would have a need that only she could fulfill and she WOULD be there to repay them.

“Can I have some time to get my things together?” she asked them.

“As we said, we’ll leave in a few days,” Eulalia shrugged, “So you have some time yet. But, please, do be ready.”

Yes, Alessia would find an offering big enough to repay all the kindness they’d done her-

“I will,” she lied and set off on her own.

-because she now had to essentially spit on that kindness.

No matter how she calculated things on her head, and no matter how she weighed them, she could not agree with the judgment of the gods. Not as it regarded her mother.

If they would discard her like trash, well…

Alessia would pick her up.

Weathering the midday heat with a cloak covering her tunic, the best leather boots that she owned, and a fair few water skins filled with diluted wine, she walked to the coast.

Being someone who had to travel all over the island, she knew how important being prepared was before making a journey. Which is why she cringed at only being able to have this ready on short notice. The problem was, if she didn’t do this now, she might as well leave with the Elders.

She had no illusions that things would magically turn out well for her, but the future that she saw in Parsimoni now wasn’t any more attractive than the one she had seen after her father slept with her friend. If she were the sort of person who could be happy just with what she had, she would have been happy being her father’s whipped slave throughout her whole life.

A good future awaited her being a high priestess of her gods, yes.

But that would have been as a woman who just allowed those close to her to flake off like dead skin.

She knew she wasn’t, and couldn’t, be perfect. But she would be damned by the very gods if she benefitted from ruining her mother’s life.

“Alessia?” the voice of a girl that Alessia hadn’t thought about in many days broke her out of her pensive thoughts, “Alessia! Wait up!”

Alessia did not know how long she could afford to talk.

But she couldn’t have Chiara hounding her.

“What do you want?” she asked tersely.

“Peace,” her once-upon-a-time crush said, “I did not come here to quarrel with you.”

“And yet here you are, all the same,” Alessia replied, “Did you really think anything else could come from talking to me?”

“I…know I have done all of this very badly,” a girl who, despite everything, Alessia still found attractive said, “But given everything that’s happened, don’t you think everything is miserable enough without us throwing darts at each other?”

Alessia’s shoulders tightened before slumping, “Is that really what this is about, Chiara? To only make peace with me?”

If everything went to plan, her relationship with the girl would no longer be relevant. But, by the same token, not carrying this anger in her breast would be…nice.

“Given all the things that have befallen poor Neoklis,” she brazenly used his name, “I wouldn’t want him to deal with his daughter not getting along with his future wife.”

And that made Alessia just stare at this…this…

“Are you stupid or just insensitive?” Alessia wondered, trying, and failing, to divine why this idiotic and immature dumbass would tell her that.

“I am being honest,” Chiara narrowed her eyes.

“Oh, because you telling me that you are going to replace my mother is sure to make us the best of friends again!” Alessia mimicked her, trying to capture whatever thread of half-logic that must be going through her head.

“All I am doing is replacing a whore!” Chiara shot back and Alessia stopped.

“A whore?” Alessia testily said, anger driving her to almost take her by the hair and-

But no, no, no, she couldn’t. Not without wasting her only chance.

“She fucked who knows how many people!” Chiara replied as if she couldn’t believe she had to explain this, “And divvied out the product of her loins as if it were rotten fruit! You heard it! 13 pregnancies, good gods, and all to strange men as if she were a common wh-”

“Don’t-” Alessia very, very seriously warned her, “-finish that sentence.”

Something must have shown through in her voice because Chiara, indeed, stopped.

Sadly, it couldn’t last forever.

“She betrayed your family, Alessia,” Chiara said.

“Why aren’t you mad?”

Alessia turned around and gave her back to her once friend.

“Would just ten children have been better? Five? Two? Maybe just one? Would it have been more moral if they had all come from a single lover as opposed to many?” Alessia shook her head.

“Same with the plight of those half-’siblings’ of mine. Am I supposed to be madder about 13 than just one?”

“How can I care about the enormity of any of that when all that really bothered our gods was the god she worships?” Alessia asked, “How can I care about the god she worships when my ancestors already abandoned theirs to embrace mine?”

“Alessia, what are you saying?” Chiaras sounded baffled.

“My mother wasn’t who I thought she was,” Alessia admitted, “But bereft of my illusions of her, she’s still the woman who, one month out of the year, still took time to be a mother to me.”

“So that’s who she still remains.” Alessia started moving.

“That’s…fucking stupid!” the other girl yelled at her retreating back.

At least she wasn’t following Alessia, “It’s absolutely moronic! You can’t just dismiss all of that just because she is your mom!”

“Watch me,” Alessia whispered.

—---------------------

In a middle-class home by the coast, where Alessia had broken guest salt and drank guest wine, there laid a fishmonger.

The woman was hanging up what catches she’d caught in the morning, but these weren’t enough to justify her living arrangements. Given who her daughter’s future husband probably was, Alessia guessed she merely fished to have something to do rather than because she really needed it.

“Chloe!” Alessia made her jump with her imperious voice.

“Oh, ah, yes, aristocia, what can I do for you?” the woman whipped her hands as she began undoing her work apron.

“I am here to call the favor that you promised me.” Alessia did not hesitate.

The small older woman slowed down her actions as she tried to puzzle her, “That’s-well, fine, yes. I don’t mind.”

“But what do you need me to do?” she asked.

“I need you,” Alessia confessed and the petite milf blinked.

“Oh,” she said, looking taken back, “I hope this is not another jest. I, um, don’t know how appropriate it is for a girl your age and a priestess besides to, um, want me.”

“Well, I also need your boat,” Alessia confessed.

“And I need you to take me somewhere.”