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Tempest felt tears well up in her eyes, and she turned to face him. “I love you, too,” she said before throwing her arms around him and burying her face in his chest.
“I wish we could stay like this forever,” she said softly.
“Me, too,” Aiden replied, gently stroking her hair. “But sadly, we can’t.”
Suddenly, the image changed, and she saw herself lying on the ground, blood pooling around her. Aiden was leaning over her, tears in his eyes.
“No,” Tempest whispered, shaking her head. “No, no, no.”
These were memories. Her memories. She realized then why the necklace Soleil wore was so familiar. It had been Tempest’s. Only, Tempest didn’t own it anymore. She had locked away the memories she needed to forget to go to the land of the mortals and given it to Vesper. All of the most painful memories, and the ones that made her question her decision, were in this necklace.
She looked back at Aiden, holding her limp body. This had been her last straw. A petty fight between several of the gods had resulted in this. She was always called in to mediate the conflicts and punish the losing god or gods, but they had cheated and turned on her when she ruled against them.
Tempest could feel the anger she’d felt at the betrayal wash over her as she reclaimed the memory. Aiden had found her like this after the other gods were done with her.
She tried to escape the vision, but it was like being trapped in quicksand. The more she fought, the deeper she sank.
The image changed again, and she saw Aiden walking away from her, his back straight and his steps purposeful.
He didn’t look back once.
“Aiden!” Tempest called, but he didn’t hear her.
Her heart broke as she relived the memory. She’d just told Aiden her plan to leave; asked him to come with her, but he couldn’t. She knew he couldn’t. Toph needed him, and it had been selfish to ask. Tempest was too broken then to understand what she was really asking him to do.
She tried to follow, but her feet were stuck in place.
The image faded as a ripple bounced across the surface of the water.
An ax swung in front of her. Tempest looked up to find the woman from before towering over her. The woman’s laugh was manic and insane, her raven-black hair ratted as if her fingers had ravaged it in a moment of distress. She breathed heavily, as if demanding Tempest fight her.
“Kirata?” Tempest whispered.
The woman standing before her was the image of Kirata, but she seemed so different.
“Come on,” the goddess of the heavens said, almost as if she could read Tempest’s mind.
“What’s happening?” Tempest asked.
Kirata looked sorrowful. “It’s happening.”
Tempest scrambled to her feet, and the woman disappeared.
Darkness descended around her.
Tempest could hear her own screams from behind her, but couldn’t see where they were coming from. As she walked forward, she found herself surrounded by both her own and Aiden’s memories. When she first met Aiden, when Aiden first met her, when they first kissed, every day that Tempest had with Aiden played in front of her.
“Stop,” Tempest shouted, but the memories didn’t heed her.
“Stop!” she shouted again, but the images continued.
A hand closed around Tempest’s wrist, jerking her forward.
“You can’t stop this. This is a prison of your own making, one that Soleil and Aloysius have trapped me in,” Kirata said.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make this into a prison for other gods. I just needed to escape.”
Kirata gripped Tempest’s wrist tighter. “None of us can truly escape our past or our fate. I’ve been trapped here and seen what they have done to you; what you allowed them to do to you.”
