Putting this here mostly just to be able to share it with a friend.

Please keep in mind this is a first and very rough draft, haven’t even gone back and read through it yet.

Also none of the characters had names at the beginning, and the one that did get one by the end is just what came to mind at the time.

Good luck!

In a large hall, crackling with the sound of the four large fires in the ornate burners on two sides of the room sits a group of influential individuals.

At the head of the table sits a man wrapped in a great many layers of ornate and transparent silks, as he shifts in his seat parts of his chest and arms are revealed through the sheer fabric.

The chair he sits on is plushly cushioned and ornately carved of beautiful black heartwood, a staple of that nation as it refuses to grow in any soil but that of the nearby mountain that once was the largest volcano on the continent.

Seated around the table on stools markedly less extravagant in their construction, were a dozen other men dressed in a similarly opulent manner though none so daring or transparent.

Standing nearly 10 meters high and running the width of the room, the windows at the far end of the hall were beautifully clear for the lower two thirds and capped with a pattern of colored glass for the remainder, creating an overwhelming display of craftsmanship.

Large clusters of magelights hung from the ceiling and walls, casting a pale light on any part of the room not illuminated by the still bright light of the early evening.

A few of the men gazed in awe at the sheer wealth or fidgeted nervously, though their purpose at that table could be just as much to blame.

The one currently speaking was a heavyset man of middling height, his appearance in stark contrast to the host whose long torso and muscular arms granted him the favor of many a woman and man as well.

The majority of the room ignored whatever plaintive and self serving nonsense the man was regaling the assembly with, they sat as if disinterested or as if waiting for more important news to be delivered.

Pretending not to be as bored as he felt, the host tilted his head slightly and a curtain of hair, longer than convention normally allowed for a man, fell in front of his face and was pushed aside.

Normally that shut people up but this man continued to press his point, unaffected by the hosts actions or their venue.

After a time the hosts demeanor changed, becoming rigid and cold.

The temperature in the room began to drop and the servants attending the fires stoked and fueled them higher in a futile attempt to fight off the chill.

Despite the larger fires frost began to form at the corners of window panes and on the globes of the magelights, slowly dimming the light in the room.

It was a short time later the heavyset man noticed a violet glow seeping out from behind the hosts irises and finally paused his speaking.

Instead of the gentle crackling from the fires, the excessive roar of them with not having an impact on the chill air gave cause for the others to look around and take notice of the frost.

The host gazed at those before him with barely contained rage, eyes still burning that violet glow from somewhere deep inside.

Transfixed, the gathered men watched in fear as the host stood.

Slowly he reached his right hand behind his back next to his head and above his shoulder, as if to grasp the handle of a sword he wasn’t wearing.

As his fingers began to close, from naught but smoke, a sword materialized on his back.

Muscles tensed as he prepared to draw said sword.

In that moment a woman’s voice filled the room.

“No, please! They do not know what they’ve done!”

The host paused, raising his gaze to the ceiling.

His eyes flashed a brighter intensity and the glowing golden form of a woman materialized above them.

She dropped to the table and threw herself prone at its end.

“It’s not their fault, please!”

The host turned a rage filled gaze upon her, saying nothing but not moving to attack the men either.

“I’m sorry sibling, they did not know who they were attempting to harm! They had simply thought to gain leverage over you by capturing someone they knew you to care about.”

Contempt colored the hosts rage.

“I’m sorry Agamemnon! If I had know what they planned I would have not let it get to this”

Tears began falling down the woman’s face

“Please, spare my people! Spare my city!”

The host relinquished the handle of the sword and it returned to a wisp of darkness.

The woman continued to plead with him.

“They didn’t know, I’m sorry!”

Reaching forward the host reached under her hair and grabbed the back of her neck, pulling her face up to his.

“Please stop” she begged

Searing white light filled the room, the temperature instantly became sweltering, the frost turned to steam and vanished into the superheated air.

In the same moment the form of the host was overlaid by a similarly glowing form of a woman.

The host finally spoke, the voice of a woman somehow quiet and yet shaking the walls.

“Why do you ask this of me sister? Knowing what your people have done, and attempted to do?”

The woman on the table, still held by the neck looked at that burning presence.

“They didn’t know, they will be punished but please, not by your hand and not the entire city please”

“These people came after me and you expect mercy”

It was not a question but a statement of fact

The glowing form of the woman shook with sobs, knowing the rage was justified.

“Because it is you sister, I will delay my retribution. However, I do expect you to personally handle the men in front of you”

He let go of the woman’s neck, with a gesture nearly that of throwing away something displeasing to touch.

“Thank you, thank you sibling!”

There was a brief pause before the host spoke again.

“Do not deceive yourself sister, if I am not satisfied I will take matters into my own hands”

The light in the room vanished, taking the host with it.

The golden woman shakily drew herself to standing at the end of the table.

Someone began pleading, someone else turned to run.

Vines clawed out of the floor, pulling the struggling men down and disappearing back without a trace.

The woman looked around to see the servants had quenched the fires and turned to face her and were all bowing.

“Worry not, as property of Agamemnon you need not bow to me”

Rather than stand, the servants vanished into wisps of smoke.

The woman shook her head

“They never change”

And vanished with a flash of golden light.

So…

Forgot to integrate part of the background.

Ideally the character of Agamemnon is a gender fluid(?) god that has one consciousness currently split into a male body and a female body.

And somebody tried to fuck with the female body to manipulate the person they thought the male body to be.