Chapter 37 #4
“Why?” Her voice was strained and tired. “That’s all I want to know, and then I never want to see your face again.”
Stolas made a rude noise, but Santa Muerte still gazed upon her with kindness, and it did nothing but piss Elsie off even more.
“Your mate cannot follow you to Molta. There, you will be tested in ways that you cannot understand until you experience it. He would not survive. Not even I can protect him there. And you need this training, or you will die when the seal breaks. Which will happen soon.”
The goddess wiped her lip, then licked the blood from her hand.
“The sadness and pain you feel now are nothing compared to what you would have endured had he stayed. Your bond would only have grown stronger, and you might not have survived Molta either. This pain of your separation is a temporary kindness that you will grow stronger for experiencing. You can reclaim him when we return.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Elsie spat.
“I’m not giving you a choice. You will come to Molta, and you will survive. You’re too important to this world for it to suffer your loss.”
“What does that even mean?!” Elsie demanded. “I’m tired of the mysticism, it’s all bullshit.”
“It’s not,” Stolas cut in. “We can’t tell you what you're destined for. It would change the decisions you make along the way, and certain events must happen, along with specific people you must meet. There are choices that may not happen the way they should if you know too soon.”
“You say choices as though you’re giving me any.” Elsie shook her head and stood up, surprised by how weak she felt. She’d spent herself both physically and emotionally in that attack, and for what? A few drops of blood?
“I don’t care anymore. I’m done caring about anything you have to say.”
“Elspeth, you will listen now.” Santa Muerte rose to her feet. “You will find and experience deep, meaningful love and happiness. You will live a life full of joy and fulfillment, surrounded by those who will move heaven and earth for you.”
Elsie glared at her. Santa Muerte was telling her the things she most wanted to hear. A fairytale.
“But you have to earn it. You cannot have those things until you have carried out the tasks your fate has burdened you with. You are more than capable, my daughter. The life you have lived until now has been difficult. Your life in the future will be harder for a time. The trials you must face are cruel, but they have not been placed on you by me. I am trying to help you survive,” the goddess said.
“More than survival, I want you to thrive. I want you to live long enough to reach the happiness that you deserve.”
“I can attain my happiness by walking away right now. I’ll go to Saint and beg him to forgive me. We’ll be happy together,” Elsie replied.
“For a time you will be,” Santa Muerte agreed.
“And then the magic leaking out of that seal will tear your body apart, and you will die. Or, come with me and the pain you suffer now will be rewarded with a long life of sweet contentment. Do your duty and save this world. Follow the path you were meant to walk and know that you were the one who saved us all.”
“Save the world?!” Elsie snorted back laughter.
“Your expectations are unrealistic. You don’t get to decide my life, you haven’t been in it long enough for me to give you that power.
I can’t believe I waited this long, an obedient little girl waiting for her mommy. You didn’t deserve that obedience.”
“She’s a goddess,” Stolas said. “Obedience is the least of what she deserves.”
“Fuck off, Stolas. You don’t have a dog in this fight. You could have visited, even once. All either one of you had to do was let me know that I wasn’t alone in this fucking world.”
“Elspeth.” Santa Muerte drew her attention away from the raven in the shape of a man. “You’re right. The demands being made of you come from a prophecy that’s existed for longer than I have walked this earth. The elves knew you would be the one to change the world.”
“The elves?!” Elsie laughed. “There haven’t been elves on this planet for hundreds of years, remember? You’ve ruined my life based on something a bunch of dead guys claimed?”
“No. I have done what was necessary to prepare you, based on something one prophet saw. A man who has never had a single prophecy proven wrong.”
Elsie frowned. A couple of elves in history were famous for their prophecies. If it had come from one of them Santa Muerte’s insistence made a little more sense.
“How can you be certain it’s me he was talking about?” she asked, needing evidence.
“Everything about you from the moment of your conception confirms it,” Santa Muerte stated. “Who I am, who your father is, the fact that you are my final daughter. It is you. I wish it wasn’t, but it is. Please, Elspeth. Give me this time to train you. To teach you.”
Elsie looked at the goddess suspiciously. The woman wasn’t lying, but she didn’t want to believe her.
“I swear to you, all I have and have not done, has been to protect and mold you into who you must become.” Her hair turned a deep red before changing back to black. “I love you my darling, and I’m sorry that you have had to endure your pain alone.”
Elsie raised a hand to her chest, to the place where her bond with Saint burned with a need for reconnection. “I don’t trust you. And I won’t forgive you.”
“The first will come with time. The second is your choice to make. I will make an unbreakable vow to you, daughter. Come with me, learn what you must learn and when you are ready, I will personally deliver you to wherever you wish to go. If that means returning you to your mate, then that is where you will go the moment we return.”
Elsie looked to the south, the direction her demon had fled.
Instinct and their bond demanded that she follow.
That she run from this infuriating goddess and never look back.
But an unbreakable vow meant worse than death if Santa Muerte went back on her word.
Her soul would be detached and scattered, the pieces never coming together again.
There would be no chance of rebirth, or reconciliation.
She was serious. Elsie’s compliance was needed.
“I’ll go,” Elsie said, defeated. She pulled back her sleeve and held out her hand. Santa Muerte took it and both of their hands glowed as an array of magic swirled around their wrists, binding them together. The oath was sealed.
“In Molta you will learn to recognize who you are, and who you are not. You will be challenged in ways currently unthinkable to your mind. It will feel like torture, but you must know, every single one of your sisters has been there before you, and you are the greatest of them all. They survived it, and you will too,” Santa Muerte promised.
Elsie squared her shoulders and stood a little straighter. She had no choice. If she didn’t go to this place, she’d die. And how could she return to Saint as a spirit?
Santa Muerte raised a hand and placed a barrier before opening a portal. It was like an oval had been cut from the air, and inside it was nothing but pitch black. The barrier protected the earth and everything around it from being sucked in. Molta resided in the center of a black hole.
“You can’t be serious,” Elsie scoffed, trying to hide the fear growing in her belly.
“This is how it must be. Stolas cannot come with us. His body cannot survive what you can endure. This is where you will regain your magic. It is where you will become the reaper you are meant to be.” The goddess offered her hand, and after a moment’s hesitation, Elsie took it.
“Forgive me, Saint,” she murmured as she followed the goddess through the portal into another world. “Don’t give up on me. I’ll come back for you.”
1. Come, let me look at you.
2. No, my daughter. Be calm.