Chapter 29 Sorrow #3
“I think you are,” the iridescent goddess counters.
“I think you’re the sort who weeps when a human soldier dies in combat, because you couldn’t spare him the anguish, because you reached him too late, because your speed has limits, because you can only be in one place at a time.
I think you’re the type who strokes a crewmate’s hair when she’s being tortured.
I think you’re the kind of soul who pricks yourself with a stitching needle after witnessing the pain you’ve neglected to alleviate in that same treasonous goddess. ”
Sorrow’s jaw locks. Never mind how they know these details. But how dare they belittle Wonder’s suffering!
Waterfalls amplify to a deafening roar. Constellations scatter across the firmament like salt.
The goddess draped in pearly lace crosses her limbs.
“Love, Anger, Wonder. Haven’t prior installments in this series of reckless tales taught you anything?
Surely, you didn’t think we parceled off our deities to the mortal world without keeping tabs on them.
Did you assume we missed your gesture of comfort toward Wonder during her punishment? Or the effect war zones have on you?”
“It harms you greatly to see victims deteriorate” the braided god says, each sentence twisting through Sorrow’s gut like thorns.
“Such is the nature of a trauma goddess, particularly one susceptible to infernal sentiment. I think you hold those memories so close, if history were to repeat itself, it would be a devastating provocation. Just imagine how it would feel to see your crew befall the same fate, if they should lose this battle. Picture the slow, drawn-out consequences of execution. Visualize the pain they’d go through while you watch from the sidelines, awaiting your turn. ”
“Envy may mean nothing to you. But will that make it easier to witness us stripping the flesh from his body?” the pale goddess inquires, cupping her hands in front of her. “For your sake, I certainly hope so.”
Sorrow tosses her head from side to side. “You wouldn’t do something that barbaric.”
Wouldn’t they? They ordered Wonder’s torture. Yes, she endangered the life cycle of immortals. Nonetheless, The Court opted for brutal retaliation rather than mercy.
In fact, Love is the only soul who’s too valuable to damage, after millennia of trying to create her. Whereas the rest of them are expendable.
The iridescent goddess knits her eyebrows. “Or when you lose, we could show clemency,” she interjects. “We could make it less inflicting, memorable, and permanent. But that is contingent upon you.”
Impatient, the amethyst goddess strides across the dais. “You may have recruited a legion, and you may have infiltrated this land, but you were caught within moments of sneaking into the Astral Sea.”
“I was there to view the spectacle,” the iridescent goddess says, confirming Sorrow’s earlier suspicion of why she hadn’t been able to evanesce. “Before that, according to the deities who accosted you in the valley—”
“—and who are oh-so willing to take credit for it, even though they kept you in the dark,” Sorrow baits.
“We shall deal with their misguided ambition,” the cloaked god assures her.
“Be that as it may, you hadn’t been in The Dark Fates long before a gaggle of youths and their companions swarmed you,” the amethyst goddess recaps.
“If you can’t get that far, what do you expect?
No matter what you think or believe, you are still outarmed and outnumbered, and you do not have the degree of magic to change that. ”
The iridescent goddess retrieves the ice arrow from her peer and lowers herself to Sorrow’s level, presenting the shaft like a sword, its length resting against the female’s upturned palms. “You, Goddess of Sorrow, know hopelessness and agony like none of your crewmates. So let’s start over, shall we? What are you afraid of?”
Meaning, what are they about to take from her?
Meaning, what do they want her to do?
Sorrow flees into a recent memory. A moment branded on her soul, in which a god had hugged her.
She’d said, I don’t know how to feel like this.
Yet he’d held her tighter. But you know how to feel this.
The pale goddess in lace strides across the amphitheater, joins her comrade, and squats in a bogus imitation of pity. Unlike her peers, this female doesn’t wear the same solemn yet disciplinary expression.
No. This bitch is sneering, regarding Sorrow through sanctimonious eyes, getting off on this retribution. Misguided by destiny or not, she’s always been a stricter, more dogmatic warden among The Court.
Just like that, it’s clear. The iridescent ruler is holding up the ice arrow and voicing an ultimatum. But the pale goddess came up with the idea.
She’s chosen to profit from Envy's deceit and Sorrow’s pain. All to bring Sorrow and her crew to heel.
Wrong fucking timing. Against her tailbone, Sorrow’s bound hands ball into fists. And while she can’t use her knuckles to sever bone, her limbs are still free to misbehave.
A red mushroom cloud explodes in her vision. A string of insubordinate vulgarities leaps off her tongue.
The next thing Sorrow knows, her body is rolling backward, her legs are kicking upward, and the soles of her boots are launching forward.
A second later, the pale ruler hits the ground, an outraged shriek popping from her mangled mouth.
Blood drizzles like sap from the gash, the blow landing so hard it knocks that stupid-ass sneer off her bleached face.
Horror grips the other female’s countenance. That, and pity. Because afterward, the rest of The Court is on Sorrow like flies to shit.
The price for her insolence reminds Sorrow of what they did to Wonder. In this case, the monarchs use something far more precious and personal to open Sorrow’s skin. But while she’ cries out in agony, only one lesson comes to mind.
She used to be scared of pleasure, until him. She also used to think pain was manageable, until him.
The things Sorrow once feared aren’t the same anymore. The things she used to handle are no longer the ones she can bear.
He may have stolen from her, then lied about it. He may have committed that act of treachery.
But who’s to say Sorrow won’t do worse? Who’s to say she won’t betray him back? And who’s to say that won’t destroy her?