Two figures kept to the side of the road. Cloaked in black robes, both carried spears. In the faint light of torches you could still make out faded bloodstains around the spear points. Time was measured in breaths as the pair fended off the Followers of Hate and their own exhaustion in equal measure.
The Queen tried to reassure her Daughter that it wasn’t far now. And, it was true.
It wouldn’t be far till they reached her homeland. To her hut by the lake she’d left so long ago. The Unseen urged her on, their promises of sanctuary growing more fervent the closer they drew. Though, as if to spite the desperate parent and child the winds swirled even in the tunnels.
Black cloaks, the harbingers of The King’s hatred, had spread out in all directions. In a matter of days, every valley had a group of the darkly clad soldiers. Sometimes they’d torture a group, lavish another with gifts and others they’d kill outright. Always seemingly arbitrary.
Only the Queen understood. Of those who had been in the chamber at his ‘ascension’ only she had come through unharmed. Her chamber had a private water source, a meager luxury she was thankful for now. Her daughter had not come away unscathed, some of the poison sent her into coughing fits periodically. She knew that the King’s goal was to be hated because by doing so, he could pull on the souls of all those he injured.
The unseen hissed loudly when several cloaks approached. The Queen readied her spear and waited. In the tunnel, there weren’t places to hide but traps could be present all the same.
Errant arrow shots showered the tunnel in sparks. The Queen bit her lips. The barbed heads had likely been from her own forge. Now turned against her, the Queen could only seek the meager cover of a nearby rock.
A hand clutched her cloak and the Queen stumbled backwards. Her eyes wide in horror seeing her daughter had been the one to push her away. Then, she saw why. The archers had never intended to strike them. Instead, a powder barrel was hidden behind her chosen hiding spot.
The final shot struck the ceiling and enough sparks finally reached the powder. All at once the world was consumed in a violent roar that was followed by pained silence.
Stillness ruled the world around the Queen. Most agonizing was the single, limb protruding from the rubble. Sobs broke the silence for a long time. Even as the unseen pulled and attempted to drag away the grieving parent, the Queen ignored them. She uttered a single lie, “You would’ve hated being the ruler.”
It was then that the daughter joined the Unseen and whispered a truth to the Queen, “Father and his Black Cloaks are devouring souls.”
As the Daughter faded, the Goddess rose to stand.
With the wipe of her hand, the rocks melted and shifted. Reshaping themselves into a tomb for the daughter, the rest of the stone parted to reveal several shocked black cloaks. In a flash of fury, the Goddess’ spear tore through the cloaks. Gaping holes from their impalements left them desperately grasping at their wounds.
The Unseen quaked and pleaded for her to continue.
Sparing only a glance to the elegant stonework that would enshrine the pain of the loss of her child, the Goddess continued on. Reaching the other end of the tunnel, the Goddess’ shoulders lowered. Another truth revealed by the bare buildings all bearing scorch marks.
It had been long enough only some scattered bones remained of the vibrant people who had lived with her long ago. Passing through the ruins, the Goddess was surprised at the numbness and pain that had melted together.
A new agony pierced the Goddess. A ragged, gaunt figure scrambled out from one of the ruins. Discarding their bow for a short, chipped blade stained with rust. The point trembled in quaking hands. Desperately, the attacker thrust forward. But the Goddess was faster and had greater reach. Her spear tore open a gaping orifice in the man.
Collapsing, the man clutched at his missing side. He hissed, “I believed in you, whore goddess!”
It wasn’t until the light faded and his eyes rolled back that the Goddess recognized him. The traveler that had stumbled into her home so long ago. Now his story has ended. The Goddess proceeded to her old home.
The humble forge by the water had no sign of damage. Even new tools had been made to replace her old ones she’d taken with her to the tower. Taking a fresh bit of metal, the Goddess began to shape it. Alone, the ringing of her hammer was her only companion.
From the water rose a head. Narrow with a wide jaw. As the creature opened its mouth it explained, “We of the world love you. We would offer you the tools to create a happier future.”
Joined by another being on great wings it whispered, “For as things stand right now, the King of Hatred shall consume every soul and spread like a plague.”
“Why?” The Goddess mumbled.
“Because we love…”
“No! Why now? Where were you when my army was routed? Each day I spent alone, shaping tools and weapons for the bastard who…” The Goddess sobbed.
Both spirits spoke in unison, “We were always there.”
The monster who had guarded these lands looked over from further down the lakeside, “We all were. You no longer called out to us. Hatred of that man stole your joy and awareness of all that was around you. But we loved you, so we stayed and watched you. But even in your shared hatred, you found something to be happy about.”
“So, what now?”
The wings whispered, “We give you ourselves, granting you ascension naturally that the King would take by force.”
The wide mouthed creature rose further from the water revealing a cylindrical body. The sky grew cloudy as it added, “From there, it is up to you how to use our power. Just know, if you do nothing, this world shall be dead. There is not enough life left in the living to revive it.”
“Do it.” The Goddess accepted.