Little Pink Starfish

After receiving an explanation and training on how to serve during meals, a considerable amount of time had passed. Resha Jehuz followed the priests through the temple grounds. The place they arrived at was a vast and magnificent garden. Birds chirped among the trees, and pure white deer wandered gracefully through the groves. Artificially arranged brooks and artfully pruned landscaping lined the well-maintained path—at the end of which stood Sha Nyne.

“Sha Nyne, I have brought Resha Jehuz Idhua.”

At the priest’s careful announcement, Nyne turned his gaze from the gently flowing stream. Jehuz instinctively lowered her head as her eyes met those golden irises.

In Trastasa, noble status was distinguished in various ways—one of which was pale skin. The lowborn, who worked under the sun, naturally had darkened, tanned skin, whereas the noble were untouched by such labors.

Even among Resha, second only to Sha, some tanning was unavoidable. No matter how often they used umbrellas or ointments, the climate of Trastasa made sun exposure inevitable.

But Sha were different from common mortals.

Like Amon, Nyne’s skin was untouched by the sun—milky and luminous. His body was slim, unmarred by excess, and his hands and feet were delicate and smooth. His golden eyes, symbolic of divinity, and his entire face exuded nobility and beauty. Though he wasn’t omnipotent like Amon, Jehuz could feel, every time she saw him, that Nyne was not a mere mortal. Bowing even deeper, she offered her greeting.

“This faithful servant greets Sha Nyne.”

“You may rise.”

“Thank you, Sha.”

Jehuz cautiously raised her head, trying to read Nyne’s expression. She was happy—but also puzzled. Why had he chosen her? Every Resha in the Lotus Hall knew that Nyne favored Ruu Mayri and Lan Gwen. Yet he had chosen her. The thought that he had noticed her before made her euphoric. Could it have been the offering I made last time? She had many questions, but dared not voice them.

As Jehuz waited in polite silence, dozens of priests and servants entered, carrying ornate chests. Her eyes widened at the dazzling jewelry inside—each stone large enough to buy entire estates.

Nyne let the priests adorn his arms and legs with jewelry. Then, as if suddenly recalling something, he gestured toward Jehuz, who had been quietly waiting nearby.

“Come here.”

“Yes, Sha.”

Seeing the treasures up close left Jehuz breathless. It was her first time seeing so many gorgeous and opulent ornaments. Would I be allowed to assist in adorning him? she wondered hopefully. But Nyne carefully selected a bracelet with a clear, emerald-green gem and personally clasped it around Jehuz’s wrist.

Ah. Jehuz thought she might faint right then and there.

Up close, Sha Nyne smelled faintly sweet, and his skin felt as soft as silk against her wrist. She could only envy the priests who served him daily. As she stared in awe at the bracelet on her wrist, barely able to breathe, Nyne smiled gently.

“As I thought—green suits you well.”

Such kindness and softness in his smile nearly brought her to tears. Overwhelmed by joy, she couldn’t even remember how she thanked him. Lost in bliss, she came to her senses to find herself walking behind Nyne’s golden palanquin along the sacred avenue—where only Sha were allowed to tread. Even under the drizzle, it felt like she was walking in a dream.

On rainy days, strong servants held wide, oiled cloths above the palanquin to keep Sha from getting wet. Thankfully, Nyne allowed Jehuz to walk under it as well.

She hoped they were heading to Sha Amon’s inner sanctuary—but instead, the palanquin turned toward the lake temple. As they passed the shrine used for purification rituals and, one day, for the afterlife, Jehuz found her gaze drawn. She hoped that someday, she would return to that temple, bearing the sacred lotus.

While the priests prepared the meal at the lake temple, Jehuz remained dazed until she heard that Amon had arrived. Instantly, her dreamy state vanished, and her entire body tensed.

Sha Amon.

Known most commonly as the God of War, but also called by many other titles: God of Death and Sand, Lord of Trastasa, the one who bears the blessing of the radiant sun.

Nyne’s name inspired admiration. Amon’s name inspired awe and fear.

As Amon entered the temple, everyone except Nyne prostrated themselves. Jehuz, too, dropped to the ground, goosebumps rising all over her skin from the sheer pressure of his presence.

“Amon, was your journey comfortable? The rain is quite heavy today.”

Nyne’s cheerful voice echoed above her head. His change in demeanor had become a topic of discussion not just among the Resha, but among all the temple priests.

Nyne had always carried a shadow about him. He rarely smiled, barely acknowledged performances by the Resha, and often seemed detached. His interactions with Amon had been stiff, sometimes even seemingly hostile—like during the Forest Festival…

Jehuz shivered at the memory. She still trembled recalling how Nyne had confronted Amon—interrupting him, even arguing. Amon’s wrath was legendary. When displeased, he could destroy on a whim. It had been a miracle that none of them were killed that night.

And yet, instead of fury, Amon had shown Nyne favor. That night had left everyone prostrate in awe, realizing anew how special Nyne was to Amon. Yet it was also baffling—how could Nyne harbor such irreverence toward someone as merciful as Amon?

But lately, Nyne had changed. The gloom was gone. He smiled often, approached Amon readily, and sought him out more frequently than ever before.

The perceptive priests knew: Amon was pleased. His mood had remained calm for weeks. No one had died in Amon’s sanctuary—a rare thing, indeed.

“I hope the meal suits your taste, Amon.”

“If it suits yours, then it suits mine.”

Jehuz’s mouth fell open. That cold and ruthless god could speak so gently? As a Resha, she sat close to the Sha during ceremonies—but never close enough to hear such private words.

Though serving wine and water was her duty, Jehuz was able to focus on the two Sha. Her eyes naturally fixed on Amon—such a rare chance to see him this near.

Up close, he was even less human.

It wasn’t just his beauty or the powerful body of a warrior. It was the presence—like standing before a lion or crocodile. A primal fear made it hard to raise her gaze.

And yet she couldn’t look away. This might be the first and last time she ever saw Sha Amon this close. Fortunately, throughout the meal, Amon’s gaze never once left Nyne. He acted as if no one else, not even the priests, existed.

Jehuz had seen this during ceremonies, but now, she thought:

If I were Nyne, would I even be able to eat properly?

To her, Amon’s gaze seemed excessive—fixated. At times, he didn’t even blink for minutes, as if Nyne’s every action—his eating, his glances, even his breathing—were profoundly significant.

And if that were true… Jehuz thought,

Then how much more meaning must there be in Nyne’s smile to Sha Amon?