The figure raised their head, screaming out for me once more. Only then did I notice the familiar blonde hue of my mother’s hair peeking out from between black, matted clumps stained with gore. It was the only discerning feature about her.
The whip had torn flesh from bone, leaving it hanging in jagged strips from Leonora’s body like ripped cotton sheets. No part of her skin remained untouched, each inch disfigured beyond recognition. Blood coursed down her in thick streams, pooling on the floor beneath her. Her eyes had been torn from their sockets, leaving behind gaping voids of grisly darkness.
“You do not know what you are missing, Niandra,” the woman said, her tongue darting across her lips. “It is simply divine.”
Niandra.
I sharply turned to study the woman beside me, looking for similarities to tie her to Calia. The two had nothing in common other than the blood they shared and the shade of their hair.
“Rion, is that you?Please—” my mother screamed, thrashing against her bonds as the whip connected with her skin in a sickening thwack.
“Silence,” Lilith hissed, reaching for Leonora’s chin. “You do not speak unless spoken to.”
“My son,” she wailed. “My son will save me?—”
Lilith laughed. “You can not be saved; only I could offer you such a blessing.”
I should have felt something for the woman in front of me. Stripped bare and mutilated for the world to see, my mother had never looked so pitiful. It was almost enough for me to step forward and ask for forgiveness on her behalf.
Almost.
But then I remembered each time she had locked me in the chamber—whipped, bloody, and freezing. How I suffered for days on end without any sort of sustenance or comfort, being forced to feed on days old blood just to regain enough strength to crawl from the curved staircase to the main floor of the house.
She did not deserve penance or any kind of intervention on my part. I was more than happy to watch as Lilith bled her dry and carved new wounds upon her flesh.
“I have seen all I care to,” I said, looking away from Leonora’s destroyed body.
It would have been far too comfortable to fall into the role of executioner. Her pain would have been an addictive retribution running through my veins, leaving behind only an incurable craving for more.
But after today, I never wanted to think of my mother again.
Lilith wiggled her fingers as the goddess ushered me toward the exit. My mother shrieked as the doors opened, and the goddess strode through the curved frame into the fresh air.
I stopped, staring at the sharp line on the floor where the sun cut through the shadows. Did the curse stand if I was dead? Would I burst into boils and sores the moment it touched my skin?
“No, no, no!” Leonora begged. “You cannot leave me!”
If my only option was to stay behind and endure my mother’s screaming for all of eternity, I would gladly risk eternal slumber.
The crack of Lilith’s whip against my mother’s body was the last thing I heard as the door locked behind us, leaving her behind to suffer in perpetuity.
“I amsure you are wondering why you are here,” Niandra said, trailing her hands along blooming wildflowers. It was strange that such a beautiful place could exist just outside the door of another where evil incarnate was being stripped of her dignity.
The garden butted up to a waterfall that cascaded down a jagged mountain peak. Stone walkways carved a path through bright clutches of flowers and luscious fruit trees as far as the eye could see.
It was a strange sensation, feeling the sun against my skin. It was warm and decadent, reminding me of a fresh pastry and a cup of coffee in the dead of winter. I had not understood my mother’s obsession with walking in daylight, but in this moment I could see how such desire could drive one to madness.
People meandered through the area, wearing similar robes to Niandra—talking and laughing with one another as they tended to the land. As we passed, they bowed to the goddess, returning to their work without fear of being caught idle.
I had never known a god until Elios, but ancient stories warned of their vengeful nature. Cautionary tales were passed down from parents to children, warning them of the dangers of angering the old ones. Yet, as I followed the goddess through the grounds, I saw no indication of mistreatment or capricious nature.
Niandra sat on a stone bench near the waterfall, gesturing for me to join her. I felt her gaze as I tipped my head back and let the light soak into my skin. How was I to give this up when I returned?
“It is amazing, is it not?” she asked, gesturing toward the sky. “People often take for granted that which they have always had. The sun and moon are no exception.”
“It is,” I sighed, closing my eyes. “I already dread giving it up.”
“Who says it must be given up?”
