I expected a broad range of replies from the God of Knowing, but that was not among them.

"You're killing your own Deified?" I asked quietly, fighting off the exhaustion weighing down my bones. That surge of power was just like before in Grimwater. Blinding rage paired with soul-shattering grief. There was nothing else to do but allow the demon to take over and just be along for the ride.

The high was euphoric. Addictive.

However, now that it was over, it was an effort to stay on my feet. No. I couldn't fall into unconsciousness. I needed answers. I had to stay here in this moment. I pulled in a breath, using precious energy to stand to my full height.

The God took in my unsteadiness with a single lift of his brow, the gold of his eyes glowing for a second.

"Was I unclear?" he asked, his face blank. It was impossible to know if he meant the question literally or if he was being sarcastic.

"No, I understood," I said, rolling a tendril of shadow between my fingers, "I meant to ask why you're killing them. What evil have they done?"

A long and slow blink.

"I do not need to justify the will of the Gods to a human," he said simply. There was no malice in the words, but he said it as if it was a simple fact. The sun dawned each day, grass was green, and the Gods ruled over it all without facing any consequences for their actions. It had been that way since time immemorial. It would still be that way long after we were all dust in a forgotten galaxy.

My stomach churned under his assessment, confirming what I already knew. The Gods had no love for humanity. We were nothing more than tools to be used and disposed of as they saw fit. He had no remorse about killing people whom he himself had blessed.

None at all.

"There are no Gods. Only monsters," I murmured too quietly. My eyes bore into first him, and then his Chosen. Finally, I let my gaze drop to the mirrored floor. The shadow being I had just been stared back at me with glowing eyes of radiant blue. Her hair moved in a phantom wind around a featureless face, the shape ever-changing. I should have been terrified of the dark creature staring back at me, but I found myself yearning to don that form again. To sink into her power and rage.

The creature looked away from me to another approaching reflection. I looked up to see the God of Knowing standing less than an arm's length from me. He gazed at my dark reflection and then at me. He took in every inch of my soul, his eyes missing nothing. At the same time I felt him prowling at the edge of my mind, reading my thoughts.

"A dark mind containing a darker power. You do indeed remind me of my sister. It seems that Death has selected her Chosen well."

The shadow between my fingers vanished.

"We all have our faults," I replied, walking on shaking legs to where my book still laid on the floor. I picked it up, wishing I could take my book with me. It felt anything but safe in this realm. My eyes strayed to the Chosen, who looked at me warily. He was much more restrained in the presence of his God. I sent him a humorless smirk, thinking he looked like a dog on a leash. Fucking hells, he was only a few feet away. Maybe I could shred him apart before--

"That would be most unwise in my presence, Shadow Chosen," said the God, interrupting my thoughts. My book was suddenly ripped from my hands as it flew to the God of Knowing's outstretched palm. He considered the binding before lifting it toward the sky. It drifted to a high shelf and put itself back into place seamlessly.

"Or what? You'll kill me?" I asked, opening my arms wide. The God canted his head to the side, but otherwise said nothing.

"Go for it. You'd be doing me a favor," I went on, striding toward them. To my satisfaction, his Chosen retreated a step backward. His God didn't share his fear, allowing me to go nose to nose with him. I realized then that he carried the scent of freshly cut paper, night air, and ink. A oddly comforting scent.

"Yes, I know you do not value your life," the God replied evenly, crossing his arm behind him again, "It is your afterlife that you value."

At his words, an image of Fayra and I appeared out of thin air, both of us smiling on our wedding day. As soon as it appeared, it melted into a female body rotting in the street. I hardened my jaw, sparing the illusion only the slightest glance. Even so, a wave of nausea rolled through me at the memory. My mind felt muddled, the memory piercing me deeper than having my book torn apart.

I sighed through my nose, needing to calm down. Finally, I felt some shred of strength return to me.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

"The next one to try something like that again will cease to exist. I don't care if they're a demon, angel..."

I glared at the shape shifter.

"Chosen."

I returned my gaze to the golden-eyed male in front of me.

"God, Goddess, or even Fate itself. Do not. Try that. Again."

His eyes began to blaze like molten metal, his pupils fathomless pools of primordial power. He clearly did not appreciate being ordered around in his own realm.

"Threats lose their impact when you have no capacity to carry them out, Shadow Chosen," he said quietly, though the air began to waver around him like the sun on sand. I gave him my best shit-eating grin.

"Then why bother to answer me?"

Oh yes. I felt his power radiating off him now, making the air thick and hard to breath. I knew threatening a God in his own realm made me a special type of imbecile, but I didn't care. What more could he take from me? This bastard was the real reason Yared was dead.

No. Not dead. Worse than dead. His soul was destroyed. He was in the abyss. He would never find the family who had been stolen from mortal realm too soon.

This God was going to answer for it.

I pointed to his Chosen without looking at the shifter.

"Let me kill him. Find another Chosen. That cowardly fucker can't possibly be what you want. Yared wasn't even a Deified and he chose to kill him anyway. I thought even you Gods had rules--"

The God's hand closed around my arm again. I tried to stay standing. I really did. The power coursing through me was like magma being poured into my skull. It was an agony second only to Death's punishments. It sent me to my knees nonetheless, a scream tearing out of me at the last second.

I didn't miss the grunt of pain that came from him as well. A small viper made of shadow twirled its way back up my arm, disappearing beneath the collar of my robe.

Sighing, the God of Knowing reached into his lapel and pulled out a small piece of shimmering fabric. He used it to wipe his hand clean from where he had touched me. I took savage satisfaction as I saw the smallest trickle of golden blood that came from a small cut on his palm. It was trivial. Already closing.

But it made me smile all the same.

That was for you, Yared.

"This conversation has become unproductive," said the God as he returned the cloth to his suit. He looked at me like a wolf would look at a whimpering puppy, wound forgotten. He considered me for a long moment before clasping his hands behind his back again. The floor shifted beneath me until I was on my feet again and I staggered, my legs shaking from the echoes of the pain.

"However, your words do carry some truth to them. Your Yared was not slated to die, nor did he deserve it. The Laws of Origin demand a boon, and I will grant it."

He walked toward a few shelves which shifted and bent until they formed a throne. Knowing sat down, staring at us impassively.

"You asked why I am ordering the demise of my Deified. You asked what evil they have committed, but you lack the necessary context," he explained, reclining in his chair. He paused a moment, lifting a hand disinterestedly. A book came flying into his palm, opening gracefully to a specific page.

"It is not what they have done," he said evenly, his eyes never leaving mine, "It is what they may do."

He held up the book, displaying its cover. My breath caught as I saw the name there.

Henry Beaufoutonte

"A Deified claimed his Mark not too many years ago," said Knowing, lowering the book again and reading the page.

"He asked for three questions to be answered. I agreed to these terms, not having Fate's gift for knowing what the result would be."

For the first time, I saw real anger spread over the God's face, his black hair falling into his eyes. His pupils dilated until they only had a feint ring of blistering gold around them.

"The answers to those questions are now being used to cause a genocide of an entire race."

Myra's voice drifted across my mind as two pieces of the puzzle clicked together.

"...He was granted three questions..."

"...He then asked if there was a way to protect ourselves from magic..."

"...The God of Knowing told him that humans used to be immune to magic, but that ability was stolen from us by the Elemancers..."

The God stood suddenly, snapping Lord Beaufoutonte's book shut.

"And so, for the great sin of using knowledge to cause chaos in your world, I will take it back. What was easily given will be just as easily taken."

His words echoed in the realm, taking several seconds to fade. Knowing glared down at me, his eyes lighting the shadows of his face. I stood still as a statue, not knowing what to say. The God's lips pressed into a thin line as he went on.

"All those whom have heard the secrets of the past will fade to nothing."

I dared a step toward him, curling my last shadow around my finger.

"What about your other Deified? It's not possible they could have all learned that secret," I asked in a deadly quiet. He strode toward me, growing taller with each step.

"The Beaufoutonte Lord has reach out to his fellow Deified. He shared what he knows and has asked them to use their Mark, my power, to obtain what was stolen from humanity thousands of years ago. I will not risk it."

Hands balled into fists, I pressed him stubbornly.

"Then why all the dramatics? Why not just burn their books and be done with it?" I growled, glancing at the drifting shelves. Knowing began to shrink suddenly until he was his original size.

"And here I thought you were clever," murmured the Chosen. He went still when when I slitted my eyes at him. Tense seconds passed before I looked at his God again. I crossed my arms, waiting for him to answer.

"A book," he began in a long-suffering tone, "Cannot be destroyed unless it's corresponding soul is in my Purgatory. It keeps me from straying into Wrath's duties."

I felt my face go slack, a thousand retorts dying on my lips. To be fair, I felt like a fool for not figuring that out myself, but I fought to hide it.

Knowing took a deep breath before I could respond, straightening his coat as he glanced at his Chosen. Something shifted in his eyes before they became expressionless again.

"Now then, the boon has been satisfied. I wish to speak to my Chosen privately before sending him back to your world."

I blinked, and he was beside me, arm extended toward my Marks.

"As for you, I will allow you to live this once as recompense for the attempt on you life," he drawled, touching a single finger to one of my Marks, a small smile curling his lips.

"Now get out of my library. And stay out."