Klyamone woke up to the sound of waves crashing against the rocks on the beach. Her godly essence seemed weaker, like she was becoming mortal.
   But from what she read, she wasn't. Her essence would be stronger in the sea, her domain. Perhaps even stronger if she were on an island, since that was what she ruled over.
   She got up, and dusted off the sand on her traditional white dress and brown cloak. The beach rounded around the cliff, which lead to the docks. Years of watching the mainland had helped her recognise it.
   She staggered towards the docks, looking like a person who had swam from the neighbouring metropolis of  Gerwain to Bethsemane. And that was definitely far for any mortal.
   Hardly anyone noticed the disguised goddess as she went up the staircase leading to the town. The sight of stone and marble structures amazed her, her eyes wide with wonder. It was a mortal city, and yet its splendor and unfamiliarity put her in a state of awe.
    Father, she thought. If this place was so beautiful and strange, why didn't you let me savour its beauty?
   She walked among mortals, and each one she passed hardly made any eye contact with her. It was a good thing, because she was not like them.
   Her day was spent wandering the city, trying each dish she saw and watching the street musicians play their mellofluous tunes. Her mind wandered on what could be so dangerous about this place, if everything could seem so mellow and wondrous? It was a question left unanswered.

                                ~~~

Evening came. The lamp-lighters came out with glowing lamps hanging from rods. Men, women and children started going home. If they were from a higher class of society, they went to watch plays and performances. The sky was pink and purple, the sun a slim line on the horizon.
   Klyamone walked along the emptying streets, watching as stalls and businesses closed and merchants packing their merchandise into their ships. The trading season had ended, meaning that it was almost time for colder seasons and rougher seas.
   An inn came into view, simple and plain in such an exquisite place. The sight welcomed her with its warm light, and she went in to check into a room.
   A buff woman sat at the counter, counting coins and drinking from a mug of beer. "What can I fancy you with, miss?" She asked.
   "I'd like a room to stay in, please," she replied, sliding two gold coins across the counter.
   The woman's rough, mean face stretched into a smirk, and took the coins. "Palina! Take this girl to room 15!"
   A young girl, no older than 14, peeked out from behind a room divider. "Yes, honoured mistress," she replied, her voice soft and meek.
   The girl, whose name was Palina, gestured for Klyamone to follow her. She followed, going up a winding staircase that led her into a corridor lined with doors. An abnormally huge black dog slept at the end. Palina grabbed her hand, and guided her to room 15.
   From her pocket, Palina took out a ring of keys and opened the door. It was a modest room, with a mattress laid out on the floor on a straw mat, a table, two chairs, a lamp and a window facing the harbour.
   "Thank you," muttered Klyamone.
   "Miss?" Palina said, shyly entering the room. "I have some advice I need to give you."
   "And that is?"
   "Be aware of the dog that lays at the end of the corridor."
   "And why is that?"
   "A canibalistic dog," she said, shuddering. "Some travellers and servants have been eaten by it. We're just lucky it has just been fed with a whole cow."
   Klyamone's skin tingled with little bugs of fear. "I'll be careful."
   "I have a favour," Palina said, the words spilling out of her mouth.
   "Tell me."
   A gust of air escaped Palina's mouth; a sigh. Six years of emotional and physical torture stampeded her mind, making tears form like crystals in her eyes. "When you leave this inn, take me with you. The innkeeper isn't as nice as she seems. I- I get thrown into the cellar if I ever try to do anything that wasn't of routine or order."
   Klyamone's face turned into a mixture of pity and anger. Pity for Palina and probably for the other servants, and anger for the way they're treated.
   And that was the beginning of Klyamone's realisation. That not all that glitters are gold.