Nympha Postmortem

16: Gamza's Bastards.

"You can't be serious!" exclaimed Prisscil, the corners of his lips lowering substantially, as he inched closer to Vision. "I am telling you... We are NOT going to steal from the Bear's Gardens."

"You can't call it stealing if they don't know it's gone," said Binge, as we walked away from the Tavern.

The three who were trying to end me no more than three hours ago, were now following me closely. I was doubtful, and honestly afraid, but they were the only ones who could aid me. We were embarking on a suicide mission.

"Yes, it's still stealing, you moron," frowned Prisscil, and smacked his younger brother over the head with one of his tentacles. "You can't just prance into their land and be like...'Oh, we were just walking by! Don't mind if you BORROW your current most expensive possession, and, you know...NEVER RETURN IT?"

"We are in the king's debt, Prisscil," said the oldest brother. "You being a baby about it won't change the fact that we're bound by an oath. You of all people should know how dangerous it is to try and break it."

"This is not me being a baby!"

I often found myself lacking the skill of easily conversing with people I didn't know. Consequently, ever since we left the Tavern of the Lost, I couldn't bring myself to utter one word. Thankfully Binge, the youngest of the three brothers, could talk even to himself alone.

"What are you looking at?" questioned he, as our glance met half way. "You are positively odd."

I clenched my jaw at his question, but offered no answer.

The sons of Gamza were unlikely beings. Born from different mothers across the seven kingdoms, and their father, Gamza, who was an aeterian, they should have never existed in the first place. One could say their very existence to be an abomination. Such children would die at birth, or end up being slaughtered shortly after.

For a split second, I thought that, if someone like their father could be with anyone he wanted, maybe the differences between me and Maia didn't matter all that much.

I shook my head in disapproval.

I didn't have that luxury. Gamza was favored by the Gods. And, as it turns out, so were his offspring.

I didn't have that luxury.

"I am telling you...he is looking at me funny again!" complained Binge, his three pairs of eyes squinting in my direction. "I should've have just eaten him when I could. Why must I always listen to you?"

It was said that there was no hunger like the one of Gamza's youngest child. And it wasn't far from the truth. It was known that he swallowed the three winds that once blew in the West Gates of Helldorn and an entire army of one hundred, the chambers of his stomach still would whimper for more.

"I am going to bite your head off if you keep staring," he threatened me.

"You aren't eating anyone anytime soon..." said Vison, as he led the way through the snow.

Vison, the eldest, as opposed to Binge, had his eyes scorched beyond repair. And yet, it seemed that he could still see even beyond what the mundane eye could. It is said, that in fear of him, they burned his eyes.

"Don't mind my brother," said he, "He won't do you any harm."

"As if Binge has any self-restraint," retorted Prisscil, letting out a chuckle.

"As a matter of fact, I have more than you could ever comprehend," corrected he. "In fact, we just passed a group of strangers, and I did not eat a single one. Not even an arm, or a leg!" Binge crossed his arms triumphantly, as if he had accomplished something for the grater good.

"And this is why Toranf broke things off with you..." mumbled Vision.

"I thought I told you her name is off limits-"

"And her dog wasn't off limits?" said Priscill, "Or should I say...of the menu?"

"I WAS REALLY HUNGRY!"

The corners of Binge's ears turned green and he kicked the snow in front of him in an annoyed manner.

"Why are you laughing?" he said, looking at me.

"No reason not to," added Prisscil. "You are simply full of nonsense. Don't blame the guy for seeing right through you." He laughed placing one of his tentacles over my shoulders.

"That's it! I am not talking to you anymore!" said the youngest, much to his brothers' amusement. They knew he couldn't go more than three minutes without blabbering off.

"Now tell us, son of Nix," begun Vision, as we reached the Southwestern Gate that marked the border between Vespera and Vencross. "What is this brilliant plan of yours that won't get us killed?"

As we passed across the borders, looking into the desistance ahead of us, we spotted soaring among the clouds, between the mountain peaks, the suspended gardens of Lord Baeron.