Verholden Manor Edge of the Third Ring

Annabelle was smashed straight through the wall. Momentary pain numbed her senses. She had exited through the other side and found herself in free fall. Her eyes caught sight of the monster. It flowed out of the mansion. Hundreds of see-through layers gave it the impression of a river flowing upstream. The strands coalesced into a floating human shape that watched the goddess smack into the ground. Annabelle grunted from the impact.

There was a short lull in combat. Celestine observed her from her vantage point up above and Annabelle quickly checked her surroundings for anything she could use in battle. There were a couple of golems around and if she were lucky, maybe the half-awoken Godbeast would impale herself on the glass ceiling of the Schauhof or the spikes on the wall. By now, with the way her pain and injuries had disappeared, it was obvious to her that Celestine was close enough to full godhood that they could no longer kill each other. She had to try either way.

With her scythe in hand, she summoned the gloves onto her hands and realized a likewise pair of winged boots had formed on her feet. Light glinted above. By instinct, she dodged to the side as a several meter long shadow cut straight through the ground. Annabelle realized two things. One, Celestine had formed a titanic blade made out of bone structure. Two, the goddess was still up in the air, as her augmented jump had carried her much further than expected.

Moving in the air meant she couldn’t dodge. Celestine suddenly snaked out of the ground right next to her. She stared into a face that looked far too close to Tharia for comfort. Pale hands snatched Annabelle straight out of the air and then held her by her throat. She kicked and struggled by instinct before she realized that despite the pain, there was no damage. The monster-woman suddenly split open. Glistening muscle tissue appeared, mixed in with bones and nightmarish organs that no normal human should have.

The ribcage split apart into a long row of teeth, they casually chomped down on Annabelle. The goddess blacked out from pain – if but for a second. When she came to again, she was still held by the throat, yet her scythe had fallen down. Celestine looked perfectly human again.

“Prghharghl”, Celestine tried to speak. The jaw wouldn’t move properly and the sounds came out garbled. The face of the monster woman split open once more with smacking sounds. Muscles shivered out in the open. Something inside cracked audibly, crunched and like that, the jaw suddenly shifted back in place.

“I don’t like food that disappears from my mouth”, the creature said with a sickly sweet voice. Annabelle found herself dragged closer to the beast in human form. She waited until she was close enough and then quickly moved her hand to the side of Celestine. The goddess called her scythe and the golden light flashed in place, yet an intense searing pain ran up her arm instead. Her weapon dispersed and instead, a sharp and thin blade was stuck right through her arm.

“Why do you look so glum, Annabelle?” Celestine said with the face and haircut of Tharia but the shivering liquid body of a monster, “I thought I’d show you mine too”

The blade belonged to a golden rapier that Celestine held with a human hand. A moment later, her chest exploded with agony as something long and sharp manifested inside of her body. Tears momentarily blinded her side.

“This one too!” Celestine said and pulled the giant axe out from Annabelle. Again, the goddess momentarily blacked out – and was brought right back again. The monster let go of the goddess and the moment she plunged into the snow, loud thunder bellowed out and her leg disappeared in a cloud of blood. It re-appeared a second later as if nothing happened.

“Oh, sorry, missed your head”, Celestine said with a wolfish grin on her face. She floated up above, held in place by a barely visible limb of flesh underneath her human form. Her hands held onto an absurdly long rifle with lines of golden energy pulsing through it. Just as the goddess got back up on her feet, soft hands touched her shoulders. The monster had appeared right beside her.

“Well this is funny, looks like I can’t kill you at all”, the creature said. Annabelle weaved out of her grasp and summoned a War-Fan at full length while in motion. The blunt side of her weapon swung around and cracked open Celestines skull. It was frustrating to see the damage disappear instantly.

“Gods can’t kill each other”, Annabelle said, breathless. This was a messed up situation. Tharia was probably in danger somewhere and she was not only matched with an opponent that was several times stronger than her, but also one she couldn’t kill. At all. Celestine looked at her with an oddly childish expression, one finger touched her lips and the monster-woman then shook her head. A moment later, snow blew aside and a table sprang up from the translucent tissue.

As it gained color, two comfy chairs appeared out of Celestine as well. A moment later, Annabelle was forced to sit down, opposite to the monster that once more showed her blonde hair. It leaned forward with a wide smile and snatched up a piece of cake that had formed from the translucent muscle mass. This was absurd. In an act of auto-cannibalism, the monster started eating the cake made from itself.

“You should try it, it’s delicious”, it said while continuing.

“I’m not eating you”, Annabelle replied resolutely.

“It’s your loss”, the creature said and ate another bite of the cake. The goddess struggled in her chair. She needed to find Tharia. Something was going on.

“Do you really want to fight this out?” came Celestine’s question as the monster looked at her struggling.

“Tharia”, was Annabelle’s reply.

“What of her? Those two have got history. Let them deal with their problems”, the monster said, “For the sacrifice, it matters not which of them dies.”

Sacrifice. Just what was going on. Annabelle renewed her struggles and when the chair suddenly snapped, she lunged forward. Her feet touched the ground and energy pulsed into her boots. Again, her body was catapulted much further than she had intended. She crashed directly into the human body of Celestine and their momentum dragged them several meters along the snow. Half-way into the flight, Annabelle kicked off Celestine and then ran directly for the mansion. She needed to find her fairy. Without warning, the snow rose up in front of her. She saw translucent skin compress into pitch-black teeth. Her momentum carried her directly into the maw of the monster.

The Worldengine Edge of the Third Ring

Tharia had given up all pretense of being human. The thing that paced these dark corridors was a monster. A creepy grin had crept on her face. There was just enough light to see the faint trace of blood on the ground. Pitter, patter, came the sound of her delicate feet brushing onto the metal floor. There was a door at the end of the corridor and the trace led her there. To her left thumped and groaned the strange machine, operated by a flesh-heart at its core. She saw Frederickus lean against a door at the end of the hallway. He breathed heavily and his eyes were filled with panic.

“You don’t understand Tharia, please don’t do this! I can still save the world”, he stammered while he tried to open the door with his elbows. Poor little brother was afraid. Maybe she should hum him a lullaby. The first melody that came to her mind put her into a particularly foul mood. Somehow, singing to Mother Bone while she killed her brother seemed wrong. She twisted the knife and then scratched it along the metal wall. The bone-chilling screech overshadowed his pleading.

“You’re my kind and sweet sister. I love you Tharia. Never would I do these things – but I have to! He led me to the room, the room births the secrets of creation. Please, beloved sister, don’t do this” her brother kept yapping.

On some level, she wanted to forgive him. She yearned for the love of a family, to be accepted for who she was and to be part of something larger than just her own little world. She realized it. This fueled the contradiction at the heart of her passionate, pure hatred. Hearing him say words like love elated her. They also made her go mad with murderous rage. Growling, she punched her fist against the metal wall.

Baring her teeth, she suddenly accelerated. Her brother squeaked in panic and kept throwing himself against the door that wouldn’t budge. Upon reaching him, she slammed her shoulder into his chest and then pressed the rusted knife against his throat. One cut and she could end it right here. Her fingers cramped around the handle, she grinned up at him in cold blood and cut.

Frederickus suddenly bucked and jerked his knee into her stomach. Tharia stumbled back. Such exquisite pain. She spat out. Some strands of hair got into her view. Her gaze fixed on her brother. He pressed an arm against his neck in an attempt to still the bleeding.

“It’s a shallow cut. You won’t die from it”, she commented with a jovial tone, “But keep rubbing in the rust. It helps with the sepsis.”

He looked at her, his breath ragged. His jaw suddenly clenched as he ran directly for her. Tharia immediately stood up to attention and put her feet into a proper combat stance. One of the tricks she had nicked from Annabelle. Her brother quickly approached, his entire strength and mass bundled into a frontal assault with his shoulder.

All she had to do was step aside and then hold the rusted knife in place. Frederickus impaled himself on the blade. Still, he was a man and had much more strength and mass than she did. The impact wrested the knife from her hands. She danced aside with two quick steps. Something she would have never been capable of if the pain her lower back was still there. Just as he turned around, she raised her leg for a low kick and struck with all her limited might.

Tharia didn’t need the strength. He supplied it. Her brother turned around with too much force and twisted directly into her foot at the apex of the kick. His knees gave out with an ugly crack from their combined force. Still, it brought Tharia off balance and when she stepped back down, she felt some of the pain return to her lower back. She couldn’t allow herself anymore maneuvers like this – or she’d be in constant pain again.

The girl locked eyes with her brother. He was furious, screaming bloody murder while wallowing in pain on the ground. Somehow, the knife was still stuck in his chest, although it had worked itself out during their short fight. Tharia ran up to him and then pressed her naked heel down on the handle of the weapon.

“This will help you feel alive,” she said with a wide grin. His screams filled the room and chilled her to the bone. He clutched his stomach with his broken hands, desperately trying to get them to hold onto the weapon. She had none of it. With her foot, she kept pressing it back in while smiling.

“No, no dear sister, the knife must stay in. You’ll bleed out otherwise”, she said. Frederickus stared up at her with confusion.

“What are you even talking about”, he groaned, his face deathly pale.

“Just quoting back all the things you said to me”, she replied and smirked. He looked at her and something suddenly changed. He averted his eyes to the side.

“I really did, didn’t I? Please forgive me. This world is so verily fucked, sister mine. Something sweet and kind like you, it had to be broken before the world did. That’s why I need the room, only by hurting you can I repair the world and make it a place where beautiful things like you can live without suffering! You must trust me!”

When next she met his eyes with hers, there was no more emotion inside of her. The murderous rage had made room for complete and utter darkness. When she looked at him, there was no more fairy left. She suddenly leaned down and pulled the knife from his chest. Again, he bucked in pain but it brought her no joy.

With soft traces of her fingers, she healed the cut just enough so he wouldn’t bleed out. She then moved towards his legs. He looked at her with pure panic in his eyes. His hands tried to grab her, but they were too broken to hold on. She felt their touch on her body as she casually cut his tendons with expert proficiency. Her mind filtered out everything he said. She just saw this squirming, shouting mass on the ground. Once done, she locked her hands into his hair and then started dragging him along the floor.

At the corner of her mind, with a last bit of sanity left, she wondered where a small thing like her had gotten the strength to drag a fully grown man. One that was kicking and flailing helplessly with broken limbs as well. A gentle melody came from her lips. She hummed him Mother Bone’s lullaby as she dragged him deeper into the compound.

Verholden Manor Edge of the Third Ring

Annabelle felt teeth bore into her. Her stomach lurched as the maw thrashed her around. It took her a moment to regain her bearings. Grunting, she used the gloves to tear apart the first bit of flesh she could grab. The next moment, the maw spit her out. Her body smacked into the glass. Her eyes immediately found Celestine. Truth be told, it’d be hard to miss the several hundred meters long translucent worm that had found its way on top of the glass ceiling.

“Soon, Annabelle”, the worm spoke with a low rumbling voice, “Be a bit more patient, when one of the siblings die, that’s when our time will come to join the Worldengine. Let’s sit down, enjoy our last moments in this dying world. There’s no need to fight.”

The goddess glared up at the worm. There was at least one reason. This thing was bloody ugly. She quickly held out both hands and then began swinging them in circles. Half-way into the motion, two War-Fans manifested in a flash of golden light. She accelerated them with the help of the gloves. By the time they were let go, they sang strange songs as they zoomed into the worm. At the same time, Annabelle jumped up and then focussed energy into her boots. She crashed straight through the glass ceiling and fell to the ground below. Her fall was slowed at the last moment by thick layers of snow. It still hurt. She had felt worse.

Her first steps were stumbles before she got into a proper rhythm. Walking with boots amplifying her steps made for a very weird gait. She half-jumped and half-ran towards the mansion. Celestine had mentioned something about an engine. The manor was too small for something like that. That only left one of the several servant houses or the large building to the side. She switched direction towards the latter.

Icy cold wind zoomed past her as she ran at full speed, each step a jump of at least two meters. She gained quite a bit of distance when without warning the air in front of her suddenly flipped. What had seemed like nothing, turned out to be the semi-invisible limbs of Celestine. The monster’s body mass flowed down from the roof like a waterfall and compressed into a human shape. Annabelle brought out the Scythe and swung it mid-manifestation. With an ugly clang, it got stuck on the handle of a giant axe wielded by a human hand sticking out of the waterfall.

A face appeared shortly after, it showed a wide grin.

“You anger me”, Celestine said, “You must not reach the engine before the ritual has started. I’ve offered you peace as we wait for a new world to be born, but you chose combat instead.”

When it came to Annabelle, monsters that talked ticked her off. She stepped closer and threw a punch directly towards the face. The impact tore apart that beautiful face and revealed a shivering collection of meat, blood, and sinew. Yet immediately, the strange layers of skin suddenly wrapped around her arm. The rest of Celestine emerged out of the constantly flowing body-mass. While Annabelle tried to get her arm free again, the monster-woman stepped up with a casual pace. She then tilted her head and struck Annabelle with the back of her hand in a perfect ladylike manner.

The goddess didn’t quite appreciate it. Sheer forced impacted her head and threw her aside. She felt her arm tear apart and cried out in pain, yet by the time she smashed into the ground, it was whole again.

“You were told to sit down”, Celestine said. With speed too fast for Annabelle to catch, the monster appeared right next to her. An additional pair of hands lifted the goddess off the ground and like before, she back-hand slapped the shit out of her. Each punch snapped her neck with an ugly crack. No matter how quickly she healed, her mind remembered the constant suffering. She punched her fist into Celestine’s body and caught a strange pulsating something inside of her.

“Oww, you got my heart!” the monster said and then suddenly grinned, “Wait, I don’t have one. Go ahead, see what you found.”

Annabelle pulled her hand out with the pulsating thing in hand. Out of the gory mess, came a human head simulacrum. Tharia. She fletched her teeth as bloodlust started to take over. Celestine laughed.

“Oh, what’s this. I suddenly feel good, like I want to kill and crush, destroy and... this is amazing. How do you do it.”

“You jam a hand so deep your chest, it comes out the other side”, Annabelle snapped with a growl.

Celestine tilted her head and let the goddess go. She then looked at her own hand and without losing another breath, the monster punched it straight through her own chest.

“No, I’m not feeling anything. Are you sure it’s done like this?”

The goddess watched in disbelief. There was no way this monster was really that dumb. Yet it was worth a try.

“It will awaken when there’s nothing left”, she said with an unsteady voice. Surely this wouldn’t work. Yet she could only watch as Celestine suddenly started tearing open her own body. Large clawlike hands dug out gory bits and threw them aside.

“Not yet, maybe here... oh that’s a heart no one needs. Perhaps... hah, well that’s none of mine. I thought it would have digested by now. Should have seen his face when I tore it off”, Celestine said with a jovial tone to her voice. Soon, Annabelle couldn’t bear to look anymore. This was gruesome and disturbing. The goddess felt nauseous from the display.

Celestine suddenly stopped and nodded her bloodied head, “Are you entertained? You don’t seem to run away anymore.”

When Annabelle looked again, all the gore had gone completely and what was left were thin layers of skin floating back into the main body. Of course it couldn’t have been that easy. She took a deep breath. She was all out of options. Something told her that Celestine hadn’t even started to get serious. Annabelle was no match for her.

“Do you give up now?” Celestine said and snaked down onto the ground, where she sat down in a wooden throne just like the one Shal-rin had.

“That was so badass when you killed that man. When the new world comes, do you think we can be friends, you and me?”

Annabelle swallowed. Her body was unhurt but her mind still told her she ached all over. With a shake of her head, she finally answered.

“Not unless you let me see Tharia”

“As I said, can’t have you do that yet. One of them must... oh, nevermind. He's dead. Let’s go.”

Immediately after her words, the strange monster wrapped her arms around the heavily breathing Annabelle and lifted her off the ground. Like a pet, she was dragged along towards the large building off to the side.

The Worldengine Edge of the Third Ring

Tharia was breathless. Even now, she felt nothing. The body of her brother hung high above his strange machine. There were patches in her memory. She didn’t remember stringing him up. Certainly not using parts of him. Tharia seriously doubted she had the strength to break open a ribcage either. That was the work of a beast, a deranged nightmare. Or a young girl that had finally let loose the demons inside.

She stared at her hands: Drenched in blood. Her arms: Red. The clothes: in tatters and filthy. She found a bloodied lever to the side that explained some things to her but not all. There had been a knife once. Somewhere. Certainly not on her, although the handle sticking out of his skull cavity told her all she needed to know. What had she done? Something that needed doing, she told herself.

Tharia suddenly noticed the people around her. They stood in long lines with their bodies bowed in her direction. Servants, maids, soldiers, even riflemen. All of them looked in her direction.

“Let the new world be born from the dreams of old”, one of them said.

“Uhm, guys? You’re not some crazy doomsday cult, are you? Listen, my brother was a bit crazy and I realize this is rich coming from a girl covered in his blood but... there’s no new world to be born here”, Tharia said while waving her hands, “This is no Worldengine and there is no room of knowledge. It’s bullshit. Right? You get that. Good, so since you get that, can you kindly stop singing?”

“No?” she added.

“Please?”

“Fuck you?” was her final attempt to convince them with arguments. Surprisingly, it wasn’t all that effective. The words they sang made sense initially but as her mind tried to grasp them, they eluded her just like the tongue of creation did. Behind her, the large organic heart in a metallic basin increased the rhythm. She turned around and stared at it. The strange organ looked much more healthy, now that the blood of her brother dripped on it. Gods be cursed, how had she even got him up there? She picked up the lever and then took measure of the oversized heart.

The frail young woman had no idea what this thing was, only that it was important to her brother and that she had suffered for it. With a loud scream, she dashed forward and hammered the blunt edge of the lever directly into the flesh of the engine. Whatever she had expected to happen, it wasn’t this.

The world blacked out around her. She was suddenly floating in some strange syrupy substance. The entire cosmos had a heartbeat of its own. Spirals of light emerged around her, they formed into spheres that exploded into further lights. A moment later, she was back in the cellar with the machine.

What the fuck. She stumbled back and looked at the thumping heart. With a loud rumble, the ceiling suddenly opened up and a human shape smacked into the ground right next to her. Annabelle?! What the everloving fuck? Soon, a stream of water followed her lover inside. Tharia stood with an open mouth as the water turned out to be long limbs made of translucent skin. They wrapped around the heart and then formed into her elder sister standing on top of it.

What the... you know, nope. A normal weekend in apocalypse city. Tharia shook her head, dismissed what she saw and prioritized Annabelle. The goddess looked like crap – still sexy – but crap. Those weary eyes suddenly showed a spark of life and warm hands wrapped around Tharia.

“You stink”, the goddess said. Their reunion was cut short as Celestine raised her voice. The small human girl turned around to look up at her sister.

“It’s time we finalize the ritual. The blood of the original cursed bloodline has been spilled, the sacrifice is made and the heart wakens. It needs but one more component. I consent. Do it!”

Distributed amongst the cultists were the riflemen. They suddenly lifted their weapons and aimed directly at Celestine. Twelve shots rang out and tore her elder sister apart. The heart dyed pitch black in an instant. Suddenly, the air around them took on a strangely metallic scent. Up above the heart, the shape of Celestine re-emerged. Weaker than before. Already the riflemen were reloading their weapons while the rest of the cultists plastered themselves on the ground for prayer.

“Kill them first”, Annabelle said breathlessly, “They must not kill her.”

She watched the goddess get back on her feet. It was obvious she was at the end of her strength, maybe she should give her some more strength using the spark. Yet before she could do so, Annabelle had already run off towards the first rifleman. The Scythe blinked into existence and a moment later, following a high swing, a read rolled to the ground. This didn’t deter the other shooters in the slightest. Eleven shots. Ten hits. Celestine was once more torn to pieces.

Tharia looked back and forth between Annabelle killing the riflemen and the odd heart that rapidly accelerated in pace. The machinery moved along with it. Everything was made for this strange organ, so it stood to reason that smashing it was a legitimate way of ending business.

The young woman stepped towards it and jabbed the lever deep inside of it. Something hit her with the force of a hammer. Like before, she had vanished from the world and gone to a strange place. Her feet stood on clouds of cotton, the sky had a distinct purple and the ugliest owl-man she had ever seen looked directly at her. She flipped him off and re-appeared back in front of the heart. Except the world was now angled at 45°.

The girl held onto the slimy heart and the lever stuck inside of it. Behind her, the cultists and Annabelle were tumbling down the floor. Wall. Whatever it now was. Maybe it’d fix itself if she hit it again. She clenched her teeth and hammered the lever deeper into the heart. With a loud crash, everything returned to normal. Except for the smell of sulfur. Up above, Celestine barely looked like a human anymore. Absurdly large appendages of semi-invisible limbs flailed around her like a flower gone mad.

Suddenly, eight shots tore holes into the blonde woman. The final one came with a delay – and when it hit, Celestine shuddered. Her shape flowed onto the heart, gold light suddenly sprung up from within her body – just as the strong scent of earth filled her nostrils. She slowly turned around as the room had grown dark. It was filled with immobile skeletons, their grotesque grin still mostly covered by the last vestiges of skin. Please don’t be her.

“She will not make it in time”, an old sounding voice rang out.

Fuck this day. Not now. Not ever, go away, Tharia’s mind pleaded. Bony hands placed a heavy cloak made of earth on her shoulders and she realized a debt was about to be collected.

“Thus it is time that we will have decided to die in your stead”, a young voice spoke. She suddenly felt constricted as hundreds of tiny plants wrapped around her body. They withered along her skin and pierced her with thousands of cuts. She felt the slithering flora rearrange her body from the inside, sinew for sinew, muscle by muscle.

“All worlds are born from a dream”, the third voice rang out. She couldn’t turn around anymore. Arms wrapped around her, a frail-looking crone hugged her from behind.

“All worlds are given a heart to persist and a mind to give shape”, the crone said with all three of the voices. She pointed her bony finger towards the strange machine.

“Yet no world shall ever have two hearts, no matter how sick it is. This knowledge is forbidden, yet he lured and tempted”, the voices continued and then split into three again. Under her gaze, the crone casually paced through the room. With the cloak on her shoulders, the entity was buck naked – not a particularly nice view. Mother Bone snatched up pouches of black powder from the riflemen and smiled towards the also frozen Annabelle.

“To promise a girl with the hope of her mind healed, the Muse gave you my song”, the old crone said.

“To promise a boy a place to heal the world, the Muse gave him the forbidden room”, the young mother bone added.

“To promise a man a chance to heal mankind, the Muse gave him the sprite”, the final voice rang out.

Tharia was speechless for once. She quietly watched as the naked old crone walked over towards the machine. Once there, she placed down the pouch and then sat on the machine itself.

“Tharia, my dear girl”, this time, only the old one spoke, “We’re sorry to place this burden on you. The Muse has made one more promise. To a king, so that he could kill the gods, he gave a cheeky brat with a mind for lust.”

Mother Bone lifted her hand and one of the rifles flew towards her. Tharia could still do nothing but watch. The strange entity held the ignition chamber of the weapon towards the pouches of blackpowder and smiled.

“Hear now our prophecy. This you must do. When the time comes, you must still the ailing heart of the world and end all cycles. You must vanquish the places born from dreams, for you are the end of all things, the mother of bones.“

“Oh, Fuck off” Tharia snapped but Mother Bone raised a bony arm.

“In time, you will agree. You need but take a look around. Stretch your senses, feel how much of the world is left. How can you rebuild a world this broken? This is the way of things, everything ends.”

“Why don’t you do it then?” Tharia asked.

“Because we don’t have her. We once had, but the ones you call gods broke the covenant and stopped the proper end. Worlds are born from the dying dreams of the old. You will end the world. She will dream the new one. Then too, you both will fade as all things must end. Go now, Tharia, Death of all.”

The crone waved to her in a rather childish manner and then triggered the rifle. A spark flew from the weapon onto the pouch. She saw it spark into a flame and when the world suddenly started moving again, there suddenly sat an ancient skeleton on the heart. Held between its hands was a burning leather pouch.

“Well, fuck you and your prophecy shit, I ain’t doing jack!” Tharia screamed as the blackpowder ignited. A massive pillar of fire rose up and the explosion lifted the young woman off the ground. At that moment, the heart screamed. It actually screamed and with the scream came a flood of impressions too intense and manifold, that she had to forget all of it the second she saw it.

Hours must have passed when Tharia regained consciousness. Snow had piled up on top of her. The building was burned down and a vile stench came from her. She needed a bath. Many baths. All around her were things not of this world. Rainbow colored fishes had died in the snow, a ship made of metal was stuck in the roof of the building. She lifted her hands and realized there were no more tattoos on them.

Her eyes hurt, everything was so bright and strange lights danced in the piles of snow around her. The brightest one drew her attention. She got on her feet and realized she was naked, except for the heavy earthen coat on her shoulders. Long strands of black hair clouded her vision. Her fingers pulled them aside and she recognized them as her own.

“Yep, just another day at the end of the world”, she said sarcastically and shuffled over towards the biggest pile of snow. Using her hands like shovels, she quickly dug towards the bright flame and finally found an unconscious Annabelle and a golden sphere next to her. She picked up the sphere and then wrapped her arms around the goddess. Tharia lifted her love of the ground with surprising ease.

“Well, hello sleeping one. Be careful when you do that, people might write songs about you”, Tharia said and then carried her out of the burned down building. The world was different now. There once had been a small and scared girl. That girl went on a voyage that was meant to kill her. It did. She died when she slaughtered her brother.

“No, I don’t make sense for me either”, she replied to no one in particular. Her feet felt the cold snow underneath. She enjoyed the sensation of feeling it melt under her every step, there was a simple pleasure in experiencing their dance on the way down to the ground.

“Where do you think we’ll go now?” Tharia asked the sleeping goddess and continued her monologue, “Aye, you’re right. We’ll hunt down your husband. No, well yes, I’m babbling and talking to myself. It’s a neat technique, it stops you from realizing just what it is I’ve done. See, now you’ve got me thinking about it.”

The world seemed dead to her. Her senses picked up flickers of tiny flames in the distance. They were the last vestiges of actual life in this cursed wasteland. Maybe her new Mother Boney senses didn’t reach that far – Or there really was nothing else left out there. She shook her head and had to blow long strands of raven hair from her face.

“I’ll grow them out this time. Actually, I look so much better with long hair, I bet you won’t be able to keep your fingers away from me. What do you say, shall we see if there’s some warm water left in my family home? We may need to kill a few servants to get in, but I’d do anything for a warm bath now.”

Her feet continued on through the snow. She had long since passed the mansion, yet she kept going. Standing still would mean to allow the memories to catch up. The body in her arms started to stir and she felt the first thing in hours. Happiness. It washed away the pitch-black abyss in her heart and she just had to pull Annabelle closer.

“You look different”, Annabelle said with a hoarse voice.

“Of course I do. Tharia is dead, Annie”, she replied.

“You look alive to me”, the goddess said with a confused look.

“No, I’m just what came out the other side. Look, the young girl went out to kill her brother. She did. That's not something heroes do. This is the way the story must end. It just won’t do when the murderess gets a hot sexy goddess as a reward. Oh and super powers.”

“You’ve got super powers?”

“Seems like I can grow my hair out, look”, Tharia said with a grin and shook her long mane. Damn, it felt good to see Annabelle laugh and smile.

"The sudden growth is weird", Annabelle admitted, "but kinda nice too"

Tharia placed her down and like that, they joked, as they walked towards the Second Ring. Soon, they would need to think about the usual necessities. Like clothes. For now, a bit of joking and silliness was fine too though. Tharia looked over her shoulder. She lifted her hand and pretended to wrap her fingers around the mansion. From here, it looked so tiny. It was a symbol for everything that had dominated her entire existence. Now it fit into the palm of her hand.

End: Enough. | Coming up: Book 3. Listen to the music.