Jackal Among Snakes

“You sold my daughter to a brothel?” Melanie’s father asked. There wasn’t anger in his voice—not really. Just disappointment.

“I wasn’t really going to do it,” her mother insisted. Red hair, green eyes, tall and robust—minus the scars, she was a mirror to Melanie today. “But you never visit me anymore! What else was I supposed to do?”

“But you accepted money from them, didn’t you? And I imagine you’ve already spent this money.”

Melanie looked upon this scene with a humorous smile on her face. For her mother, Melanie’s only worth had been attention from her father. For her father… she wasn’t quite sure what she was worth. It felt like he sent money only so that others couldn’t disparage him. In the end, her mother had spent most of it on gaudy dresses, jewels, and expensive perfume.

Until today, that was.

“You’ve made your bed,” her father said. “Sleep in it.”

He made to leave, but her mother threw herself at him. She clawed at him with her long, painted nails, and he cast her to the ground. She fell into a vase, shattering it. He looked down at her contemptuously, while she had the look of a wounded animal on her face. There was brief indecision—pity, almost—before he made to leave without another word. In hysteric rage, Melanie’s mother grabbed a shard of the broken vase and lunged, stabbing him in the calf.

With a shout, her father fell on her mother. He bludgeoned her face again and again until she stopped moving, then wrapped his fingers around her neck. She was so badly beaten she could barely offer resistance, and she breathed her last after a few minutes. When she finally died, he fell away from her, examining his calf and grimacing. He muttered foul curses, and it was only after about half a minute that he spotted Melanie.

Melanie’s father rose up and walked over to her, limping. He could see the child version of her, but Melanie herself seemed to be a spectator in this memory. The dead-eyed girl looked up at her father, not saying a word.

Even though she had no memory of this event, Melanie knew how this ended. She remembered this place well, after all, and it occupied much of her earlier life.

Without saying a thing, her father left, shaking his head. On his way past, as he winced with pain from his leg, he kicked her mother once again. Melanie couldn’t help but laugh, and the little girl that she’d once been looked over.

Feeling guilty from that silent stare, Melanie said, “Come on. Sometimes, things are just so colossally wrong you have to laugh.”

The child continued to stare.

“Brothel owner made a fat stack of coins for this little event. Blackmailed my granddad. Ruined his whole damned business. Then my dad drank himself to death.” She patted the little kid on the head. “But take it easy, kid. Life gets a lot better from here.”

Those green eyes never stopped staring.

Melanie finally looked away, and rose to her feet. She walked to her mother’s body and looked down on it. The little Melanie walked up, too, staring up at her as she watched.

“There’s a lot you can learn from whores,” Melanie reflected, rambling to distract her thoughts. “And it’s not just ‘where not to end up in life.’ You learn how to talk to people. You learn how to size up someone’s worth. You learn how to shake people down, too. Well, I guess I learned that from the owner.” She laughed, then pulled up a chair. “You learn what someone can sell themselves for. And you learn how to laugh at stuff like this.” Melanie prodded her dead mother’s stiff leg with her boot.

Melanie rubbed her palms together. “You’ll meet a mercenary. He guards the place. He’ll teach you a thing or two, finally get you the hell out of this place. In the end, he’d prefer you fight in the bedroom rather than a battlefield. He’s not exactly the asking type, either.”

Melanie took a deep breath and sighed, leaning back in the chair. “He’s the first one you kill. Not sure what count we’re at, now, but there you go. After all that stuff, you’re free. Maybe that’s what you want hear.”

with the little girl still

all of this,” she said, anger finally seeping into her tone. “It made me tough, made me strong. I learned how to fight, how to struggle, how to earn. If we had been accepted into the family, started living in that peachy estate of my grandfather’s back in Relize, sucking down caviar and slurping wine—we would’ve been just like all the rest, walking around in high heels, wearing a tightly-drawn corset and fainting

from the

reason,” Melanie pointed down at the ground. “Now, I’m with the king. Most powerful man in the world. And once I’m done with this stroll through shitty memory lane, I’ll be talking to gods. And because of the things I’ve been through, I’ll keep going up, and up. Power, money, I can get it all. We’re worth something,” she tapped her

“Are we happy?”

momentum, looking down at the ground. She caressed her forehead as a headache

all I want,”

knew she needed to answer, then. What did she

#####

for a long, long time, her thoughts still on what she’d just experienced.

stood looking down on her, his arms crossed. His shoulders were as broad as a bear’s, and his arms were as thick as Melanie’s torso. He bore countless scars all over his body, and sported a giant mane of red hair. The largest scar—a huge gouge in his stomach—was partially concealed by his long beard. His green eyes carried

Sataistador?” she questioned at once, her

me that you intend to steal from Erlebnis,” he said without answering her question. His voice was deep and smooth.

nice. What do you have for me?” Melanie asked, examining

stepped forward, all of the weapons on his body clanging as he did so. He bore an axe on his left waist, two daggers strapped to his chest and one to his calf. He had a bow on his back, and two scimitars on the right side of his waist. And his posture… even like this,

life alone, using war as an instrument to enrich yourself.” He nodded. “You fight for your benefit, flitting from side to side or betraying people when doing so

a drink

have no love for Erlebnis. But I stand to benefit much more from protecting his interests.” He held his gigantic hand up. “A problem persists. Unless I make a deal with someone, I cannot

mentioned there were measures to protect us, but… so we’re on the same page, what are you

to link with the divine. This is a cowardly realm to avoid the consequences of one’s loose tongue.” He crossed his arms again. “Gods are petty things. Do you think your king—or the Alchemist behind him—would risk disclosing

the same hold true for

those doors. This place was built by gods in the distant past to have some advantage against Gerechtigkeit. It was advantageous to have points of contact,

you’re using it, now,” Melanie pointed out. “Alright, whatever. You need a traitor. What

shared my power with another. I have no divine servants, no mortal champions. But I can promise you two things. The first: an eternal alliance with myself. The

said

it before.” He held one of his hands up, explaining, “You must be far from Gerechtigkeit—he hampers with the process. The rest…

like that,”

I said, you would be my ally. There is no higher honor. As you kill other deities you will strengthen your

the first cycle?”

no more,” Sataistador crossed his arms. “Accept my

one thing, but how do I know you’ll keep this deal?” Melanie stepped forward and

Planes leave their mark. Both of us must abide by these scriptures absolutely,

good enough,” Melanie disagreed.

shall give you my symbol of authority. I have made no blessings, for I have no need of lesser beings. And more than that…” the deity reached for the scimitars on his waist, pulling one free. He held it out before him, and then… it changed. She’d not for a moment doubted