Siobhan, The goddess' handmaiden

17. Green

Siobhan stares at Ereshkigal. She is slightly afraid. The goddess lives off of blood, so does Nakir. If he said her blood is not good, why does the goddess insist on it now? What could she possibly do with it? Since Ereshkigal is only staring at her without any further explanation, Siobhan sighs and gives in. She takes a knife and slices her finger open. To make even a few drops of blood fall onto an empty petri dish, she has to squeeze her finger. Being dead has its perks, unless someone insists that she needs your blood.

She passes the petri dish over to the goddess. The few drops are looking somewhat wrong. The colour is off, not exactly red. The smell is off, it’s not coppery like normal blood. Ereshkigal waves her fingers over the blood and a few tiny lightning bolts fly over it. The colour turns to a vibrant green.

“What does that mean?” She asks. Green blood is not natural in any humanoid creature, not even Elves.

“It means you are more than half Elf. You shouldn’t have died this young. Something went wrong with your genes,” Ereshkigal shakes her head. “There was a magical block on your powers. It either happened by chance or it was placed on you on purpose. I guess we’ll never know which it is, but it doesn’t matter. I can bring you back to life.”

“Would I have to live off of blood, too?” Siobhan asks. It’s not appealing to her. “Maybe just leave me as I am?”

“I think we would all benefit greatly from you being alive,” Ereshkigal smirks. “But, it’s up to you. As to the blood thing? The answer is no. It’s not that kind of magic that I would use. A blood curse has nothing to do with resurrection.”

“Can you tell from my blood what kind of Elf I should have been?” She inquires carefully. Her curiosity is awakened and now she wants to know.

“A forest Elf. Nature’s best ally and helper. Forest Elves have the ability to grow plants out of nothing. And all animals are drawn to them,” the goddess responds. “It got me thinking when you said that Fenrir came to you.”

“I do love nature,” Siobhan sighs. The only natural part around here is the terrarium with the viper Naryshka brought her.

“Think about it. Come find me when you know the answer,” Ereshkigal tells her and leaves. Just like that, with no further explanation, or any kind of pressing that she should let her do it. No pressure at all. What is there to think about if she could be alive and not dead? Would that mean going back to the human realm? Probably not, since everyone there knows she died. But what could be the benefits? The way Ereshkigal made it sound leaves too much to interpretation.

She needs a second opinion, but the only two beings who could give it are god knows where. Naryshka said she has work to do, whatever that is, and Nakir is still angry. Should she risk it, or decide on her own? She doesn’t know the risks. There will probably be consequences too. Nothing is ever freely given by the gods. Siobhan swallows her fear and goes in search of Nakir. Fenrir only looks at her sadly, but he lets her pass. Some guardian he’s turning out to be, if he lets just anyone pass. Or is it only her? She stops at the door and knocks. If he’s not here then she might try to find Naryshka. Deciding on her own, not knowing what she’s getting herself into, might not be good.

“How did you get past Fenrir?” Nakir glares at her. Yes, he’s still angry.

“I need your advice, and it has to do with why he lets me do what I want,” she sighs.

“I’m the last person you should take advice from,” he grunts, but he lets her in.

“Ereshkigal said I’m more than half Elf and she wants to resurrect me,” Siobhan blurts out. There really isn’t a better way of saying it.

“She what?” Nakir exclaims. “How did she determine that? What has she done to you?”

“She took a blood sample, mumbled some magic and it turned green. What kind of freakish blood is green?” Siobhan gestures at herself.

“Don’t fret. It’s not the blood. The spell turns to various colours for specific outcomes. Green means forest Elf, blue is for water, red is for fire. She can also determine how much demon blood someone has with the same spell,” Nakir tells her.

“Should I worry about the resurrection plans? What does that entail?” She asks him.

“It’s unpleasant, but doesn’t really hurt. I have no idea why she would do it, though. You can’t return to the human realm. You being alive here only complicates things,” he answers.

“She said we could all benefit from it,” Siobhan shrugs. The doubts are still there. He hasn’t told her anything overly useful.

“Ery is planning something. I have no clue what, ‘coz she hasn’t told me. But whatever it is, she needs an Elf for it. Makes me wonder…” Nakir looks at her. His deep black eyes show no emotions, but she can see his anger has cooled down.

“So? I should let her make me alive again?” Siobhan inquires.

“You have nothing to lose. The only change will be that you’ll have to eat and sleep,” Nakir says. “Go for it.”

“I’ll tell her then, but I have to find her first. Did you do something to your tower? I can’t locate Ereshkigal from here,” Siobhan frowns.

“She’s in the courtyard. I’ll show you the way,” he shrugs. “Ery is currently outside of the palace. But your connection should work everywhere throughout Irkalla.”

“How come you know where she is and I can’t feel her?” Siobhan scoffs. “Has she cut me off already? Does she think I will deny her?”

“Relax! You worry too much,” Nakir chuckles. “I can see her through the window. Besides, your tattoo is still there. She hasn’t given up on you, yet.”

“I can’t see anything out of your window,” she frowns. No matter how hard she tries, it might as well be taped over with a blackout foil.

“That’s your weak human eyes. When Ery brings you back as an Elf, you will have much better vision,” he tells her.

“Can she really do that? Resurrect someone?” Siobhan asks.

“She is the goddess of the underworld, the undisputed ruler of Irkalla. She has dominion over life and death here,” Nakir smirks. Then he adds: “It’s one of her powers.”

“Why hasn’t she brought Munkar back, if she can do this?” Siobhan wants to know.

“Because she needs a body to do it,” Nakir closes his eyes. She can see his pain, and she regrets asking.

“I’m sorry I asked,” Siobhan lays a hand on his. He doesn’t push her away, but he doesn’t move either.

Nakir slowly opens his eyes and sighs deeply. His mask is back on, the cold stare cuts her to the bones. He beckons to her: “Come on, let’s get you down there. You have a chance to live again. If you were truly meant to be an Elf, you will wake up completely different when she’s done with you.”

“An Elf? It does sound appealing,” Siobhan smiles. She was fascinated by the stories as a child, but she never got to spend much time with her Elven grandparents. The memories of them are faded.

“Ery is never wrong about this,” he responds.