Chapter 7: Sisterhood

“Matron Sharadreza.” The male had just stepped into the throne room, knocking his balled fist on his chest, bowing his head low in respect.

“Matron Nazira has announced her arrival.”

Upon hearing that name, the Matron, seated on the throne, flanked by her two daughters, scrapped her nails over the black stone, grinding her teeth in the proces.

“Matron Nazira?” Irae’Lin said, letting a tone of disgust roll with her words. “What has she lost in our House?”

But the Matorn silenced her daughter with a flick of her hand.

“We will know soon enough.” The Matron said, her eyes focussed on a tiny glowing ball that had formed in the room. The shimmering light became bigger, creating a portal, the size of a person. From the crackling light, a Drowess entered the room, a smug smile on her face. She was alone. 

“Matron Nazira.” Sharadreza said when she stood up from her throne, giving a slight nod in respect, only because she knew this female was much more powerful then herself. 

“My dear sister …” The words were like a hissing snake. Sharp and deadly, dripping with venom. Full with the tone of authority, showing with a few words that she was in charge.

Sharadreza could not withhold a glimpse of disgust on her face. 

Sister? Indeed … Matron Nazira was her older sister. She and her, together with two other sisters, were all daughters of Matron Thirza Doh’Arn. A once very powerful Matron, seated at the top of, at that moment, the sixth House of the Underdark city Che’El’Dheorden. Born as the fourth daughter, Sharadreza knew that her chance to become Matron of her mother’s House was unthinkable. She would have to defeat three older sisters and the first was already a major obstacle. Before she even became a Matron Mother, Nazira was already known as a powerful High priestess of Lolth that never lost her favor. It had made her almost invincible and a power to reckon with. 

So Sharadreza had left the House and the city the moment their mother died. For she would no longer be a daughter of a Matron, but a sister. And while she still had her title of High Priestess, it no longer had the value it had before. In the end, she would end up as one of the cousins, a distant family with a broken line for the throne.

When she had arrived at the city of Dro’Naqar, a fairly weak city, she had worked her way up from the bottom, proving her worth. A few hundred years later, she could proudly call herself Matron of House Duscrain, eleventh House of Dro’Naqar. Of course, compared to the city of Che’El’Dheorden, Dro’Naqar was nothing. 

Che’El’Dheorden was seen as a capital of the Drow Underdark, the city of power. Highly favored by their goddess, the Spider Queen for their many victories. But Sharadreza had found herself content with her place and rank, that until after her first fifty years of reign, her oldest sister stood before their door. Sharadreza had expected that her sister would come to destroy her for her betrayal. No Priestess could leave their House without the permission of their Matron, even when she had left in that short moment between the death of her mother and the claim of power of her sister. She needed no one's permission for the throne was void … but she was certain that her sister wouldn’t have agreed with that opinion.

Surprisingly Nazira came with an offer, an alliance. Nazira had always eyed power and everyone knew that it was her goal to become the first House of Che’El’Dheorden. It was no secret, but no one said it out loud. For the idea alone, could already result in that House Deafin, First House of Che’El’Dheorden would strike out and destroy House Doh’Arn. But Matron Auna was no fool to waste her soldiers. She could win the battle easily, but to what cost? It would only result in a gap in her army. As long if Doh’Arn was no direct threat, Matron Auna would watch with wary eyes.

Sharadreza was in fact forced to accept the alliance, even when it was not said with those exact words. But refusing would result in her sister’s wrath upon her House and Sharadreza knew that the battle would be short and result in her defeat. She reluctantly accepted the alliance. When House Doh’Arn would fight, House Duscrain was forced to assist. Until now it had never happened and both Houses had meddled with their own business. So Sharadreza was more than curious to know why her sister suddenly stood on her doorstep. 

“To what honor do I earn your visit?” Sharadreza said, still standing before her throne, flanked by her two daughters. 

“Do not fret, dear sister. I came here on the order of the Spider Queen. She has granted me the right of Melear’Elemet.”

Sharadreza frowned in surprise. Melear’Elemet was a high classed ritual that was only granted to Priestess that were highly in Lolth’s favor. A dark ritual that called upon the demons of the Nine Hells, forcing them to caste their power down on an individual, mixing their power with the blood of the Chosen. Until now, none of the Chosen had survived the ritual, all dying during the process or the aftermatch. 

“Who is your Chosen?” Sharadreza frowned. She knew of the heirs of her sister. One son and two daughters. And at her back were their remaining sisters, Sabrae and Fhera, who had pledged their loyalty to Nazira. While all powerful and strong in their arts, she could hardly imagine that one of them would be the Chosen.

The sleek smile on Nazira’s face revealed that it wasn’t one of them to begin with. Sharadreza should have figured that out sooner. There was no reason to visit her House if the Chosen was of Nazira’s House. She didn’t come here to blurt that news. It could only mean … It was one of her own.

“I heard of your son, Sharadreza. The spawn of your last Patron … a traitor. Rumors go that Lolth herself prevented his sacrifice to her, keeping the babe alive.”

Sharadreza snarled silently. Ofcourse Nazira would have heard it. Undoubtedly that one of Lolth’s handmaiden had pointed her in this direction. It seems the purpose for keeping the boy alive was rising to the surface.

“Bring him!” Sharadreza said towards her youngest daughter, who had served as weanmother for the child in his early years. Not a time of nurturing, but of indoctrination. Even a traitor’s son had to learn the Drow language and that of the Nobles. He was trained for a perfect hand-eye coordination to control the Drow Sign language. But most of all, to learn his place as a male in the Drow society. No male stood above a female and more than once, he was put in his place the hard way.

A few minutes later, for you should never keep a Matron waiting, a servant announced the arrival of the boy. The young child, by then eight years of age was wearing decent clothing, even when they were dirty from his choirs. Silently and with his eyes fixed on the ground, he waited at the door until his Matron would call him forward.

“Come here!” A harsh command, but the boy didn’t flinch. As quickly as he could he shuffled forward, until he took his place before the Matron and bowed down on his knee. 

“Matron Sharadreza, you have called for my need?”

A chuckle left the mouth of Nazira, who looked in awe and wonder to the young child. She carefully crept closer, letting her eyes go over the young boy. For Drow standard, he wasn’t bad looking at all.

“It seems you have trained him well. My son wasn’t this disciplined at that age.” Nazira said, placing a finger on her lip, still looking eagerly at the young boy.

“I highly doubt that.” Sharadreza replied, but both of them knew that weren’t the words she wanted to stay. Yet bragging that her son was better then House Do’Arn’s Elderboy would only invoke her sister’s wrath. A quick glance coming from Nazira, made clear that she knew what her sister wanted to say and with her glance, she gave a silent warning to keep those words for herself.

Nazira placed herself before the boy, blocking the line of sigh from her sister to her son. 

“Look at me.” She commanded, still a sleek smile on her face. The boy hesitated. He wasn’t of age yet and was therefore now allowed to even look up other than the ground. Doing so could result in having the wip on his back.

Seeing his hesitation, Nazira picked up the chin of the boy, forcing him to look up.

“Look at me!” She commanded again, this time in a more threatening tone. Reluctantly, still fearing punishment, the boy raised his eyes to look at the Drowess.

“What’s his name?” Nazira asked, pleased with what her eyes had seen.

“Breghen.” Sharadreza replied swiftly. “And may you now reveal why you have interest in my son?”

She had her suspicions. In fact, she could even say that she knew it, but she still wanted to hear it coming from her sister herself. 

“Lolth has favored this boy.” Nazira said, releasing the boy’s chin with a flick. Instinctively, the child lowered his gaze back to the ground. “Allowing him to life, even with such a treacherous male as a father. Have you already figured out why he had gone to the surface?”

Sharadreza scraped her nails over her chair again.

“No, we haven’t.” She said in defeat. “We are still working on that.”

“Pity …” Nazira said, taking a few steps away from the throne.

“Lolth has pointed to your son as the Chosen for the ritual. She sees … use in this male child. Being your son, he’s still bound to my family as well, but blood. Treacherous blood.”
Sharadreza had to keep herself calm, even when she wanted to lash out in anger. That last comment was not necessarily pointed at the child’s father, but also at herself, for walking away from her House of birth.
“If he survives the trial, he would become … her Champion.”

No, Sharadreza thought. He would become Nazira’s Champion, but the female was in no position to even argue about that. 

“No one has survived the trial.” She bounced back, trying to crush that flickering hope for power.

“Well, wouldn’t it be lovely if he would be the first?”