“Get on with it, sister,” Nushka demanded. “We have matters to discuss.” Her lashed impatiently around her feet and dug its claws in a nearby awaiting soul. Luckily for the victim they were protected from pain whilst they remained in Lilith’s realm.
Lilith glowered at her. “I told you to say your piece and then get out. So, do it!” she spat. “My work does not stop because you decide to grace me with your presence.”
Nostrils flaring, lips pursed, Nushka struggled to keep a leash on her temper. Shadows danced in annoyance around the train of Lilith’s midnight gown. So similar they were, Nushka noted to herself. So unlike the others.
When Lilith did not receive a response, she turned on her heels and escorted the man through the Gate to the Afterworld. For the few moments Lilith was gone, Nushka took the opportunity to better survey the Hall of Shadows. Less than a dozen souls awaited their eternal judgment, but more would come. Day by day, year by year, this was the life the Goddess of Darkness was dictated to live.
‘How different our eternal lives are,’ Nushka mused. ‘In The Pitts, at least I have my minions to amuse me. I am not alone. I am not deprived of flesh or company. How wretched and lonely her existence must be. I could not exist like this. We have both been treated as less than we are; banished to rule over loathsome realms. All because Archè and Aria declare it to be so. Dictators from the beginning of time, pampered by their followers, unquestioned.’
Nushka’s hair twitched in irritation, her claws extending, shadows stirring as her temper built.
‘Soon, their time will come, and Deities like my sister and I will not be treated as lesser. No longer will we be denied our rightful places amongst the Gods. Royal blood and unending power flood through our veins. We are Queens in our own rights, who have been treated like servants, like lesser Gods. This cannot continue.’
In a moment of frustration, seeking release from the anger burning within, she slashed a clawed hand across an awaiting soul’s face. The movement startled the departed spirit but caused her no harm. Nushka internally cursed that the spirits in the hall were immune to her gift of pain.
A flash of light in the corner of her eye drew Nushka from her tumultuous thoughts, as Lilith returned to the Hall of Shadows through another portal that immediately closed behind her. Instead of attending to her next charge, Lilith gracefully returned to her throne of sinners’ souls. Perched on the edge of her seat, straight-backed, she folded her hands neatly in her lap. A Queen ready to hold court.
“Why are you here Nushka?” Lilith demanded.
Nushka raised her chin defiantly from the foot of the dais, choking down distaste that rose from the unfamiliar need to request something from an equal. The Goddess of Blood and Bone only ever took what was hers, she did not make requests.
“I need you to re-appraise a soul entrusted into my care,” Nushka requested with fierce determination. Her shadows billowed around her. Her hair flicked about frantically, sensing the rise in adrenaline flooding its master’s body. “I wish to invoke the rule of redemption.”
Lilith appraised her sister for a long moment, her face a blank mask. Just when Nushka was ready to give up, sure that her sister would soon laugh in her face, to her surprise the Goddess of Darkness nodded her head in agreement.
“Very well,” Lilith said decisively, fire burning in her eyes. “Bring them to me.”
*
10
Agnes
The days were long beneath the bone castle. Time measured only by the number of candles Agnes burned through to keep the darkness at bay. Each candle lasting only a handful of hours, she had to be quick to relight one off the other before it burnt out or else be left in darkness. Twenty-two pillar candles and counting. Occasional screams from neighboring cells broke the silence. The putrid scent of refuse and copper tang of blood only worsened, nausea surging in the handmaiden’s stomach.
The novelty of being back in physical form had quickly worn thin. The former Royal’s body fell prey to the harsh conditions of her confinement. Even though it was impossible for Agnes to die, as she was already technically dead, sensations and ailments still plagued her in this form. She had forgotten how cumbersome and fragile her mortal body had been. The illusion of pain in spirit form now seemed trivial compared to the real thing.
Painful blisters formed beneath Agnes’s feet as the heat from the volcanic plains rose through the ground, like perpetually walking along hot coals. The stifling air and overpowering stench caused her to frequently gag. No longer did the handmaiden revel in the pleasurable side of her physical form. Pain and disgust were now front and center of her thoughts. Living in this cell, enduring this endless hell hole… this was a reminder from her Queen of what her life in Moor could have entailed, had she not earned the Goddess’s favor.
The Dark Queen had not visited her prisoner, nor had she sent word regarding updates on Agnes’s plan. Nushka had, however, arranged for Eshu, her mediator between the human realm and the Gods’, to deliver her a gift. The Orb of Historia contained the history of the Gods since the beginning of time, a record-keeping relic that had been created by the first Gods. How Nushka had come into possession of the prized artifact, Agnes didn’t know. Such a precious relic, ever-learning and adding to its wealth of knowledge, would have been coveted amongst the Gods. The fact the Goddess of Blood and Bone trusted her to use it was the only sign she would show that their tentative alliance still held.
Clouded visions appeared in the orb. The vessel’s contents were endless, recounting historic events, maps, paintings, and ancient texts. If it was considered important to the Gods, then it could be found within the orb. Star charts for constellations and visions of galaxies that Agnes didn’t even know existed, were all contained within its endless scope of information. Agnes marveled at the clarity and vibrant colors of a galactic scene, having never seen anything like it. The technology was so far advanced from her experience in the mortal realm that its vast knowledge was unfathomable. The bearer had merely to hold the object and envision the information they wished revealed before the vessel briefly hummed, and the requested piece of history would appear through the transparent glass.
Feet outstretched before her, wounds wrapped in water-soaked thread-bare linen strips torn from her gown, Agnes scrolled through the contents of the orb. The longer she suffered, the more she felt driven by anger to learn all she could, to help her bring the bastards down that pulled upon all her strings.
Deceiving the Goddess of Darkness was but the first part of her task. Navigating around the Land of the Gods, mingling amongst its Deities and finding a way to contaminate their drinking supply would be her next undertaking. Just as Hyacinth had done so eons ago to achieve her ends, Agnes would find a way too.
To get close enough to contaminate the drinking supply that would bring down the Gods, Agnes would first need to know her enemy. She required every advantage for her plan to succeed and would only have one chance. The former Royal shuddered to think of what would happen to her if she were discovered by Archè himself, for there were far worse things than being wiped away from all eternity.
“Agnes, are you in there?” a familiar voice whispered from the other side of the bone cell door drawing her from her thoughts.
Relief filled Agnes’s chest.
She lowered the orb and hobbled over to the door, each painful step drawing a whimper from her.
“I’m here,” she called as she stopped to rest against the wall beside the door.
“Thank the Gods,” Kayla sighed as she walked through the bone door in spirit form.
Concern filled the handmaiden’s semi-translucent face.
“Oh Agnes, are you okay?” she fretted. “I have been worried about you.”
“You have?” Agnes straightened in disbelief.
“Of course,” Kayla responded incredulously. “I know we are not friends, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care what happens to you. Besides, we have all suffered Nushka’s wrath far worse in
your absence. What in the realm did you do to end up in here?”
Something akin to guilt pooled in her stomach. Agnes had been so quick to assume that Kayla’s positivity and kindness was all just an act, that she hadn’t ever considered the possibility that she could be an even slightly decent person.
Despite the pain, Agnes smiled.
“It’s a long story… But thank you for coming to check on me,” she replied and meant it.
“Don’t be silly. We handmaidens should look out for each other more often,” Kayla remarked wrapping her arms around Agnes.
Kayla held her for several moments before pulling away. Agnes couldn’t feel her touch, but the gesture still held immense meaning. Warmth flooded Agnes’s chest. She felt tears begin to well in her eyes but blinked them away.
“I see you got the box of candles I stole for you,” Kayla remarked gesturing to the dwindling supply on the floor. “I’ll send you more when I can. I had to bribe a guard to deliver them to you. I’m sorry I couldn’t smuggle you in anything to light them with. But I see the guard must have lit at least the first candle for you if you still have light,” she spoke cheerfully.
Agnes’s chest swelled.
‘Perhaps there is still good in the universe, even in Moor…’
“Thank you, Kayla. I can’t remember the last time someone showed me any kindness…” Agnes revealed.
Kayla looked at her knowingly.
“Nor I,” she admitted. “But perhaps you can make it up to me when you eventually get out of here,” she winked.
“It’s a deal,” Agnes chuckled.
A piercing scream from the neighboring cell caused the handmaidens to jolt in surprise.
“I better get out of here before the guards discover me or I’ll be in here next,” Kayla whispered hastily, her attention flickering to the door nervously.
“Be careful,” Agnes urged her.
“I always am. Now take care of yourself and don’t give up. I’ll see you on the outside,” Kayla promised with a sly smile and drifted back out through the cell door.
Agnes released a contented sigh as she slowly returned to her bed of hay. The dark monster that weighed her down didn’t feel so heavy now. The handmaiden’s visit had done more for her than any candle could. A flame of hope sparked within her as she caught a glimpse of a better life.
‘I am who I am, flaws and all. But perhaps I can be more. Perhaps the first step towards a better eternity is learning to open my heart a little to let others in. Perhaps a friend like Kayla could help me keep the beast at bay.’
~
Agnes spent hour after hour in her cell, studying the maps of Archè’s palace in the sky. She had studied each level methodically, looking for any weaknesses in its defenses, or places to hide should she fall prey to trouble. She found none. Deities as old as time itself did not make mistakes. Not after having an eon to hone their craft. They did, however, grow overconfident.
Agnes knew that cockiness made people more prone to mistakes. Agnes had learned that lesson firsthand through her own failings in her mortal life. It was her arrogance that had led to her demise. Perhaps it would be that same egotism that would bring the Gods to their knees.
Late into the night, replacing candle after candle as each wilted down to its base, Agnes meticulously studied anything and everything that might give her an advantage in her mission ahead. Including information on her own Queen.
‘To know your enemy is to know their weaknesses.’
Despite having to bite her lip through wound dressing changes and frequently falling prey to coughing fits, choking on smoky air, Agnes continued to push through and learn all that she could. She doubted another soul in history had ever laid their hands upon the sacred orb, and she doubted any would again. Agnes would not waste that opportunity.
‘There is a better life out there for not just me, but for people like me, and I will chase it. Maybe after I have fulfilled my end of the bargain, Nushka will allow me to bring Kayla and others like us to the Afterworld. No soul, no matter what they have done, deserves to be sentenced to this place…’
Agnes kept researching; the orb a cool, soothing presence in her hands despite the realm’s stifling heat. A reassuring weight that she would use to its full advantage.
A shake-up was coming for the Land of the Gods, Agnes could feel it deep within her bones. Grim determination and willpower kept Agnes on task, holding her focus. She would allow nothing to stop her from seizing the power she was owed, even if it meant working alongside and submitting to the narcissistic Goddess of Blood and Bone.
*
11
The Goddess of Darkness
The atmosphere in the Hall of Shadows had changed since the Goddess of Blood and Bone’s uninvited visit. Lilith’s shadows stirred restlessly around the train of her black, figure-hugging gown. A strange sense of apprehension and curiosity had begun to stir within the Deity’s heart.
Lilith’s days were usually filled with bland indifference, an eternal monotony of fulfilling a duty that was thrust upon her because of her gifting of discernment. But Nushka’s recent visit and request had unsettled the Gatekeeper to the Afterworld and she could not distinguish why. A disturbing notion for an eternal being whose gifting derived from good judgement.
From the moment Lilith had peered into her sister’s dark soul, she had known her intentions were insincere. Nushka had nothing to gain from another failed attempt at invoking the rule of redemption. Why she insisted upon attempting it, the Goddess of Darkness could not determine.
‘Surely my sister is not stupid enough to hope that she could deceive me. For Nushka to genuinely redeem a soul is an unattainable task,’ Lilith puzzled, exhaling slowly as she massaged her temples.
‘To teach her subject morality or to have them seek forgiveness for their past crimes.’ Lilith shook her head. ‘These qualities are beyond her. You cannot teach what you do not know…’ She pursed her lips, running a hand through her long, straight, ebony tresses.
‘My sister is up to something and I will find out what it is. Not only can I distinguish a person’s value as Nushka believes, but I can see and read all in the hearts of my entrusted souls. Every memory, every motive, I examine in each spirit’s mind like flipping through a virtual book of their lives.’
Lilith forced herself to push aside her thoughts and focus on the task at hand. Since Nushka’s arrival, she had not been as productive as usual, and the Hall of Shadows was quickly filling. With a heavy sigh and a crack of her neck, the Goddess of Darkness rose from lounging across the throne.
“Back to work,” she chimed.
Lilith straightened to her full height before descending the dais stairs, her heels clicking with each light step, her long, sleek midnight hair cascading behind her.
“Who was first…” Lilith mused to herself gazing across awaiting halls occupants.
In order of their arrival, judged by the vibrancy of the light projected from each spirit, Lilith discerned and delivered eternal judgements one soul at a time. If it had taken her days or weeks, she did not know. The Goddess of Darkness did not stop to rest as she continued her work, allowing her gifting to flow over each individual soul, delving out their eternal reward or punishment accordingly.
The Goddess of Darkness administered her judgment upon tens of thousands of souls, each thoughtfully considered and appraised before revealing their eternal fates. Those who she deemed beyond redemption, whose hearts were blackened, who had committed such depravities and sought no forgiveness for their crimes, she damned to The Pitts of Moor.
As her patience wore thin, she took the time to personally punish certain individuals using her own shadow power. Lilith delighted in the opportunity to use her power and give the wretched souls a small taste of things to come before banishing them to Moor. Their screams and moans for mercy sent a thrill of electricity through her. She supposed that was how Nushka felt every day; likely part of the reason her moral compass had shattered. L
ilith reined herself in.
Those who spent their lives slithering like snakes, making honey out of other people’s suffering, she encased in bone and added them to her ever-growing throne. To spend an eternity watching others prosper while they could not, was poetic justice in the eyes of the eternal being. Of the countless souls she judged, most were rewarded for a life well lived and were placed under the care of Chiara.
Finally, after all the work was done, the Goddess peered at her reflection in the newly-repaired hand mirror. Her porcelain skin glowed like the moon, the shadows and wrinkles beneath her eyes vanished, and her emerald eyes were vibrant once more. Even her hair had regained its shine, her skin now taut over her slim frame. The Goddess grinned in feral delight.
“Who is the most powerful of them all now, Nushka,” Lilith boasted smugly to herself.
As expected, all but a few of the souls who had graced her Hall had used their final moments to wisely praise their Goddess in attempt to sway her judgement. Their praise and worship flooded through her lifeblood, rejuvenating her strength. The energy generated through their worship wiped away signs of the Goddess’s ageing and restored her power to its former glory.
After what seemed like an unending amount of work, the Goddess gratefully sat down and draped her slender legs luxuriously over the arm of the throne. The newly soul infused bones emanated a soft glow. Her shadows and power hummed gleefully around her. For no other reason than because she could, she waved her hand, transforming her slim midnight dress into a billowing gown of the deepest blue, thousands of diamonds adorning the fitted bodice. A gown fit for the Queen she was.
The whine of new souls entrapped in the throne rang in her ears. Some still begged for clemency and implored her to have their eternal fates changed. As they did so, despite the annoyance of their whines, the Goddess felt her strength continue to grow.
“Hush,” she counselled the souls, wrapping her shadows around each of the glowing bones, smothering out their light. “There is no escaping this. You have all made your choices in life and now you must face the consequences…”
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