"You were careless?!" Lord Terenyk barked, a small trail of mist following his balled fists as he took what Aperio would consider a fighting stance. "What did you do?!"

Aperio did not reply immediately, instead telling her daughter to let the man be with a small mental nudge. Lord Terenyk had every right to be angry, after all. Throwing Maria's soul had undoubtedly damaged what lay within, the blessing she received from that unthinking action only furthering the damage to her soul every time the girl used magic.

"Caethya," Aperio said, gently lifting her wing and pushing Laelia's daughter towards her disciple. "Please watch over Brenia for a moment."

"What did you do to my daughter?!" Lord Terenyk demanded, the magic around him growing in intensity.

The All-Mother tried her best to ignore the rising anger at the back of her mind, the words of the Human making it quite hard to retain her calm. There was no reason for her to feel this way, it was her fault that Maria's soul had been damaged. Because I was scared of my Void…

"I…" Aperio's voice trailed off, her mind struggling to find the right words. "I expected her soul to be a bit sturdier than it was. I would like to claim that there was a grand plan for this, that I chose her to replace one of the fallen deities."

Aperio paused again as she slowly ran her hand through Maria's hair, gently guiding the flow of the soul-river's water through the girl's well. "But, that is not the case. Despite what everyone seems to think, I am not all-knowing."

Admitting that was, of course, accompanied by a wave of disgust that had yet to find its equal; almost managing to make the winged Goddess regurgitate her last, non-existent, meal. But, it was the truth; she did not know everything — nor did she want to — and yet, some part of her still seemed to think that admitting that was wrong. "I was... curious. And careless. Now, I am fixing my mistake."

Despite hearing Aperio's words, Maria made no move to leave the lap of the Goddess. Nor could the All-Mother find a trace of anger or concern in her; the girl's breathing was steady and so was the beat of her heart. As far as Aperio could tell, Maria did not seem to mind what she had done. Or she doesn't understand what I am talking about.

Lord Terenyk balled his fists tighter still, the mist that flowed from them growing more dense. Aperio wasn't concerned about the magic — what the man was conjuring was pathetically weak — but it did put the extent of his anger on full display. Not that I can blame him for that.

He glared at the winged Goddess, his eyes sometimes darting to his daughter, who had by now closed her eyes and leaned herself against the All-Mother. "What are you doing to her?"

"Healing her," Aperio replied. "Like I said before. It will take a bit more time, but the damage is not irreparable. I would also advise you to not attack me. Whatever you are trying to conjure up will do you more harm than me."

The Human continued to stare at Aperio, the magic still gathering in his hands despite her warning. She knew the look in his eyes all too well: the hatred, the disgust. Right now he wanted nothing more than to hurt her for what she had done; for endangering his daughter.

She held his gaze, seeing from the corner of her eye as he raised his hand: a slight yellow glow intermixing with the trailing mist. The hand shimmered in her vision, becoming the blurred image of a bejeweled metal gauntlet. The gems shone in the vile yellow light she had come to despise over the course of her life, the magic it announced never pleasant for the mind.

Unbidden, one of Aperio's hands traced her neck, her fingers trying to find the collar that would undoubtedly force her to obey — enjoy — whatever he wanted to do. Her mind searched for the feeling at the back of her mind that had always been a constant companion; the silent call that would take control of her body, forcing her to be a helpless passenger, forced to watch as her owners did whatever vile acts they could think of.

The voices sounding behind her turned choppy in her ears, breaking up and slowly turning into the mocking laughter she knew all too well. Some of them even spurred her master on to take her there and then. Force her to enjoy the act — praise him for his performance.

She could feel them drawing closer — eager to observe her suffering. Revel in it. Aperio could see the bejeweled hand move towards her face, could already feel the cold metal on her chin; waited for him to force her to meet his eyes. Waited for him to take her.

With every unneeded breath she took, Aperio could smell the sweat — feel it stick to her skin. The distant voices grew in veracity as the ghostly echo of his hands brushed against her chest, her legs, her, as his breath flowed past her ears. Aperio's hand followed the non-existent breath, slowly rising up to the side of her face. Her fingers reached out, despite her dim recollections that they had healed a long while ago, and searched for the scarred remains she was sure to find.

The All-Mother closed her eyes as her fingers followed the gentle curve of her ears. She wanted to forget — to be blind to her old life. She did not want to remember kneeling in front of her masters, being forced to meekly beg for mercy while her mind was afire with insults and spite.

Aperio shuddered, putting in the effort to ignore the echoing voices that sounded out around her. Instead, she drew her wings closer, shielding herself and Maria from the world that surrounded them. A touch of her magic made sure no sound would reach them. The girl herself shifted in the Goddess' lap, wrapping her arms around the woman as best she could.

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

The presence of the Human child helped; her minuscule weight on her lap a beacon, a lifeline on which Aperio could force herself to return to the present and not dwell on her past. Why Maria had decided to remain with her despite knowing that she was responsible for the damage to her soul was a mystery for Aperio.

Very carefully, Aperio returned Maria's hug, a few errant tears dampening the girl's hair. The All-Mother could not fathom why Maria did not hate her like her father did; how she could simply ignore what had been done

Despite losing her focus, her healing had never stopped, her subconsciousness seemingly enough to keep the magic going; a fact she was most thankful for. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt the girl more because of the resurfacing of unsuppressable memories.

Deep breaths, she thought to herself as her lungs filled with cold air. Just memories. She could feel herself tremble slightly, the disgust she expected to feel at her lack of control suspiciously absent.

She took another deep breath, the smell of paint and parchment tickling her nose, slowly replacing the ghostly odours of salt and ammonia. All she yearned to do at the moment was to retreat to her Void and hide. To wash herself clean in the river of souls. 

To forget.

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Maria felt a tremble, and more tears dropped onto her head. She held onto Aperio a little tighter. She did not know why her Goddess was behaving like she was, but she knew she wanted it to stop. Whatever had caused it was obviously not good — a Goddess should not cry.

She understood why her father was angry — she herself should probably be too — but Maria did not want to lose what she had. Despite what the Goddess had done, Maria still liked her. Perhaps it was her title of All-Mother, but the girl did feel like Aperio was perhaps the closest thing to a mother she had right now. While she could not replace Maria's actual parent, the girl still wanted someone to fill the void the death of her mother had left.

She couldn't remember much; only fragments of a bedtime story or a bit of playtime. Nothing that would let her figure out what her mother was truly like. And yet, she felt like the two were much the same.

"I'm sorry," Aperio said, her voice barely a whisper but still deafeningly loud.

Maria did not know what to say, no words quite fitting to express what she wanted to say. Instead, she tried to hold on even tighter to Aperio. While she still wasn't sure if the Goddess liked being hugged, Maria did so anyway. She did return it, after all.

"I am sorry," her Goddess mumbled again, and her voice, for once, was almost silent. "I should not be like this."

Maria pulled herself away at the words. "Why?" she asked. It did not make sense to her. While she thought that her Goddess should not cry, it wasn't because it didn't fit but because she did not want to see the one who gave life to all she knew be sad.

Aperio chuckled mirthlessly at the words, the tears that had pooled under her eyes vanishing as she extended her hand to tug a few errant strands of hair behind Maria's ear. "It is unbecoming of me, is it not? I can do most anything with but a thought, a feat many mortals would trade everything for. Why should I cry for anything?"

"Isn't telling me this also bad, then?" Maria asked, slightly tilting her head.

"Perhaps," the Goddess replied, her eyes distant for a moment as another tear rolled down her cheek. "But it helps. Thank you."

"Thank me?" Maria asked. "Why?" It didn't make sense to her, all she had done was hug Aperio and listen to her. Neither of them she thought would deserve thanking. Or do Goddesses not hug, like I am not allowed to hug the servants? Maria very much wanted to — she did rather like most of them, after all — but her father had made it quite clear that it wasn't allowed.

"Sometimes just being there is enough. I am also thankful that, despite having every right to, you do not hate me for what I have done."

"I just don't want to lose another part of my family..."

Aperio sighed at the words, the sound somehow managing to make the air feel a little colder. "But I am responsible for that too, am I not? Without my intervention, your mother would still be here."

"But you did not kill her," Maria said, her voice stern in the face of her Goddess. "People from the churches of Vigil and Inanis did."

"You might not blame me for what happened, but your father does. I will not stand between the two of you for longer than I already have," Aperio said, carefully picking up Maria as she stood up and folded her wings behind her back. "I thank you for your ear and your honesty, but I think it is time to talk to your father."

Maria shifted slightly in her Goddess' arms, not quite managing to find a comfortable position. How can her arms be so hard but her wings so soft? It wasn't as though Aperio's skin was made of metal, but just as during her hug, no matter what Maria tried, there was no give in the Goddess' body. Maybe I am just too weak?

That was the most likely answer. She was just starting to come into the power Aperio's blessing had given her, after all. What she had gained from that, though, was mostly magical in nature. One of the benefits she had over others was her perception of magic, one that allowed her to feel the minute shift in their surroundings that heralded the return of sound from the outside world.

Her father was fuming, yelling at Ferio who looked less than pleased, a few errant flames dancing across her already fiery-looking hair. The Elf that had accompanied her Goddess just stood silently by the door, talking to the girl Aperio had also brought with her.

Maria liked Brenia; she did not care for noble titles or the like, simply wanting a friend. She also liked her Goddess, just another good thing in Maria's book. Now though, she looked confused, probably not understanding the conversation that was happening in front of her. Not that she had to for much longer, as Geshton ceased his yelling and stared at Aperio.

Maria knew the look. It was the same he had had after the priests of Vigil and Inanis had talked to him in his office. After they had told him to kill her. She did not want her father and Aperio to hate each other, but Geshton did not truly know what she did. He did not know how Aperio felt, the sadness and insecurity the Goddess hid behind a veneer of formality and superiority.

She acted like everyone assumed the All-Mother would act; how Maria had thought she would act. The only times that facade had broken, as far as Maria knew, was when someone she cared about was in any form of danger. Or when she felt at ease with the people present. Aperio had gone against her father when she thought he had somehow abused her. She sat on the dirty floor with two children not her own, letting them play with her hair because she did care.

Geshton was about to yell again when Maria cut him off, her voice trembling whisper. "Please… don't."