Goddess Rising

Tivelo had taken his seat on Achi’s couch and was watching his son patiently.

“I’m not opposed to treating you like a prisoner.” He sounded as if the situation bored him, but his hands belied his words. They were folded in his lap, intended to appear serene, but they were clasped too tightly. He was annoyed, worried, or afraid. “You have barely half a day between fevers. You are barely keeping yourself upright. If I have to tie you to your bed and earn your hatred for eternity, I will do it.”

Achi gave a mirthless smile. “Imprison me for my last few days in order to prolong my life by one day. Your calculations are flawless, as usual.”

Tivelo kept his expression even. “Sit. We can discuss this before we declare war.”

Aria expected Achi to refuse. He stood at the door for almost a minute, shifting slightly from one foot to another. When he finally moved, it was with purpose. He pulled out one of the chairs before the still-occupied table, sat in it, then fixed his elbows on the table and turned his gaze to his father. “You go first.”

Tivelo took a long time to prepare himself. For some reason, that amused Achi.

“Talking is hard.” The prince smiled mockingly. “Perhaps you can issue a decree and have your priests read it to me.”

“I am a god of justice,” Tivelo said. “I account for wrongs and repay them exactly as they deserve. I will not let even a poor man go free.” He kept his eyes on the far wall as he spoke. “It’s not that I can’t - I won’t. I am a god of love, as well. From the first day I knew you, I swore an oath to keep you safe and punish anyone who would so much as throw dirt in your eyes. I am a god of mercy. Had that girl confessed her crime, or even engaged in the least bit of soul-searching, I would have allowed her as much relief as my justice will stand. But the same arrogance with which she made her choice she now deploys in claiming innocence.” He laughed. “No, Achi, I won’t pardon her. You are not a dog or a pig to be kicked with impunity by every upstart with legs and enough brainpower to use them. My justice can be reasoned with; it is my love that despises her. As much as I love you - and I love you with every fiber of my being - that is how much I hate her. So, the more diligently you plead, the more my anger burns. She committed her crime with confidence and with her eyes open. She should accept the punishment in the same way.

“I’ve considered lying to you, to end this fight. When she came here and looked at me with that… disgusting… fear in her eyes, I considered freeing her. But I am a god of truth. Even if I could deceive the whole world, I will not deceive you. If I had freed her then, it would only be to hunt her down after your death. It would have been a lie.”

He finally met Achi’s eyes. “So, son, hear this from your plain-speaking father. That woman and I have an enmity for the story-books. If she pays me the price of a son, including for everything you have suffered, I will grant her a clean death. Otherwise, her suffering will last as long as your death lasts.”

Achi watched the performance with the same calm expression his father had previously deployed. When it ended, he rose and stretched lightly.

“A lovely tale,” he said, “except for one thing: You don’t love. You love yourself. I haven’t asked you to cut out your heart and give it to me, or to create a whole realm, or to give me all your powers. I asked you to free a girl - a child. And, yes, she is a fool and a murderer. But, compared to you she is barely an embryo. You can swat her hand and cut her loose. You can just kill her. But your anger and your selfishness will not allow it. If you love me, you’ll choose my wishes over my life. You think you’re honoring me, but even a moment’s thought would tell you that you cannot honor me by ignoring my wishes.”

“I am your father.” Tivelo’s voice rose. “I fight for you even when you value yourself too lightly. You’ve given so much - to every person in this cursed world. You work for them from the moment you wake to the moment you close your eyes. You are the son of the most powerful god in existence. You should rest, eat your fill, waste gold! Instead, even on your deathbed you write petitions for those cruel, ungrateful maggots. I swear, I will burn every last one of them!” Tears had broken free of his face. His voice came out distorted by the sobs in his voice. “I will not grant a single one. Don’t think to pressure me with memories or with my love for you. If you die, none of them will ever know my grace again.” He wiped the tears from his face, suddenly stoic again. “You do not care for justice. It is not in your nature. But I tell you it is no less essential than all the mercy you practice. To deny it to you - even at your request is beyond my power. She will get what she deserves.”

Achi rose to his feet. “I hope your justice keeps you warm. Now, will you let me go or not?”

Tivelo eyed the prince for a moment. His anger was nowhere to be seen, but Aria still felt its echoes in the air. “Take a day to clear your head. Go to the seaside. Sleep. If I detect that you are exerting yourself, I will bring you back here. I expect you back within twenty-four hours. Return if your fever -”

Achi was already through the door with his trunk in one hand.

With her new sight, the hallway did not seem empty. There were doorways at intervals on each side, cloaked in darkness impenetrable to her old eyes. More strangely, the doorways did not seem like normal passages. Some to rooms right on the other side of the hallway while others linked to rooms a good distance away. She could sense the connection between the doorways and and their matching exits in other parts of the palace

Achi went through the opening at the far end of the hallway and, as soon as he entered it, its exit changed. Previously, it had led outdoors, but he exited in a room with dirt floors and two lines of carriages. He picked the first carriage, a metal one painted blue, tossed his trunk onto its floor, and climbed onto the only seat. Carriage was a generous description - it was practically a platform with slightly raised, decorative edges. But, when he flew it out of a doorway and into open air, there was no pressure from the wind.

As they moved, Aria realized that her perception was moving along with him. The edges of her vision had shifted as if she too was traveling. A quick inspection showed that he was at the center of her view-range.

“Achi?” She asked.

He did not respond. She thought she saw a slight tremor in his arm, but it could have been an illusion. She called his name again and received no better response.

She looked at the Black God once before he left her range. He was still sitting on the same couch, staring after his departing son, and sobbing softly. Aria pulled back from the sight. Visions of smoke and flames assaulted her again. She fought them, pulling herself back to reality just as the world changed.