Aperio let herself fall down onto the grass, spreading her wings slightly to allow herself to sit. Lying down now would be unbecoming of her stature, even if she had already ignored the gentle voice of Laelia as she started to talk to Adam; removed their voices from her mind so she could better focus on herself.
I'm starting to think the old me just gave up on trying to fix all of this. The All-Mother could not quite believe that everything had broken down as much as it did during her absence alone. Unless it was a lot longer than I thought… I never asked Ferio how long, exactly, I was gone.
She rubbed the bridge of her nose and sighed again, something that was becoming a lot more frequent than she would like. All she really wanted to do was roam the world and live, not be presented with problem after problem with no solution in sight. To understand and fix the issues she knew about, she would either have to retrieve more of her memories — something that was bound to pull the veil back on more unpleasantness from her past — or spend inordinate amounts of time understanding her own creation. And hope more doesn't break while I figure things out.
Right now, however, Aperio wanted nothing more than lay down on the soft nothing of her Void and scream. Not because she was upset, or even angry, but because despite the powers she had gained — despite knowing how to use them — she was unable to fix what she wanted to.
She couldn't make herself forget her old life; couldn't undo what had been done to her. Neither could she undo the burden she had put on Maria, on Caethya, or even on Laelia. Even Ferio, her own daughter, was starting to feel distant. She seemed to have an image of Aperio that the woman herself did not want to share.
Aperio had no desire to become the one above that ruled with an iron fist. She wanted to have a family. Friends. Not followers, disciples or Scions. The one member of her family she had managed to reconnect with seemed to think of her as far more than just a mother. I'm always the All-Mother… Such a stupid title.
Even with Ferio behaving as she did, Aperio still found a comforting warmth within her heart when she thought about her daughter, one that brought the slightest of smiles to her face. Even the memories of Moria did not quite manage to elicit the same warmth from the winged Goddess. But, should she want to express her fondness, she would feel repulsion and disgust at herself. The few times she had been able to express herself despite that had been marred by the need to keep her strength in check.
She wanted to lean into a hug — show her affection — but doing so with more than the tiniest fraction of her might would kill most anyone. Even Ferio would break. The only things she had found able to withstand more than a minuscule amount of her strength were her weapons and the trees of the forest above the dungeon she had returned to. I doubt it still holds true for the trees, though.
Spreading her wings fully, she gave in and let herself fall completely onto the grass, uncaring for the loss of dignity it might incur. Aperio ignored the way the earth compacted more than it should beneath her, instead directing her eyes at the clouds above. Despite the sun hanging high up in the sky, the All-Mother had no trouble making out the twin moons hanging above the surface of Verenier.
Her aura was not needed to spot the chunk she had removed; a mortal's eyes were enough to spot the cosmic wound. A part of her wanted to fix it, while another insisted that it should stay — to serve as a reminder for what had happened. Aperio was inclined to listen to the latter part of her mind. Memories were fleeting things, while the world seemed to be just fine without her help. If I don't count the broken System or traitorous Gods.
She closed her eyes, ignoring the tears that flowed down her cheeks; ignoring the tiny flowers that bloomed to life where they hit the ground.
Her mind was turning in circles. Unable — unwilling — to decide on which path she should take. She ignored the worried voice of Laelia calling out to her, the scared whimpers of Adam, and the unmistakable feeling of her daughter's magic flowing through a new hole in the fabric of space.
She did not want to deal with any of it anymore.
She wanted to know why her emotions were as steady as a drunkard on a ship in a storm. Why the voice at the back of her mind told her she was better than those that surrounded her — that she must be perceived to be perfect.
She wanted to know why parts of the old Aperio somehow remained when every other memory had been removed. Burned from her mind.
But there was no-one that could answer that question. The ones that were most likely to have answers had been killed by her own hand in fit of rage and sadness at the memory of their betrayal. Another disgusting loss of control.
Aperio wanted to punch something, vent her anger. But even that was not to be. Whatever would end up the target of her rage would not survive, and undoubtedly only make it worse for her in the future.
Instead of breaking the world even further, she shut her eyes tighter and wrapped her arms and wings around herself. The soft touch of her feathers against her skin did manage to calm her a little, the presence of the rather unnatural limbs a reminder that kept her mind from descending further into the twisted depths of her past.
Aperio knew that her followers — and daughter — were watching her, the information her aura provided eagerly informing her about Caethya's and Ferio's arrival, but at the moment she did not care. For some reason, she was finally able to be honest, at least with herself, without feeling like she was about to part with her non-existent breakfast, without feeling like she needed to cleanse herself afterwards.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
She took a deep breath of the fresh air, the lack of the city’s scent a welcome change. The next breath was accompanied by the hand of her daughter resting against her cheek. A touch of magic brushed past the edges of her mind in an obvious attempt to soothe her.
The All-Mother could feel the worry of her daughter, Ferio's heartbeat and magic far from their usual steady calm. Ever so slowly, Aperio untangled one of her hands and gently rested it atop Ferio's. The slight shake of her daughter's hand might have been practically unnoticeable by most, but was distressingly obvious for Aperio.
She hadn't really expected her daughter to react with worry to such an extent that she ignored the presence of mortals in her efforts to try and help. Nor did Aperio want her daughter to worry — did not wish to be a burden on Ferio's mind — but at the same time she desperately wanted the presence of someone that cared. About her. Someone who did not expect her to show constant, everlasting control.
Ferio had said that she was there to help, that she only needed to ask, but the All-Mother had not taken her daughter's offer. Aperio had not wanted to appear even more vulnerable than she already had in front of her daughter, the part that was adamant she was better also convinced her daughter would not understand. She had been inclined to believe it, as Ferio had always held her in higher regard when others were around. It was something she had taken to mean that her daughter's words were not quite as honest as she had wanted to believe.
But here she was, sitting on the dirty grass behind her mother trying her best to soothe her. To most such a thing would be a matter of course, but not to Aperio, and another stream of tears cascaded down her face as she realised it. Why am I like this?
The answer to that was, of course, not something she knew. It wasn't something Ferio or anyone else knew either, and Aperio doubted even retrieving all her old memories would aid in answering this particular question. Instead of trying to rack her brain to find an answer, Aperio allowed Ferio to lift her head into her lap.
It was perhaps the wrong way around, the daughter comforting her mother, but at the moment Aperio could not bring herself to care. Being able to simply lay in a field and have someone who was there for her, even if she had previously rejected her help, was a soothing balm that spread over her mind and helped to stem the flow of tears at least a little.
"Why did you not ask for help, mother?" Ferio asked quietly, the slight quiver in her voice and shake of her hand betraying the stern facade she tried to convey.
The All-Mother did not reply immediately, grasping her daughter's hand a little tighter instead. She wanted to turn around and hold her daughter tightly in her arms, letting her emotions run free until the fog on her mind lifted, but that was not to be. The risk of losing control of her strength and injuring her daughter was far too great.
Aperio gave her daughter's hand a light squeeze, the Goddess' flesh giving way too easily for the amount of force she had used. A touch of her magic wiped her tears and Aperio opened her eyes.
The first thing she saw was the face of her daughter marred by worry. Ferio's brows were creased slightly, a tiny bit of moisture pooling below her eyes.
"What is happening to you?" she asked, her voice barely audible even to Aperio's ears. "What can I do?"
"I don't know." The words were freeing, no disgust or guilt manifesting after she had said them aloud.
Only relief.
Aperio felt her daughter's magic spread around the two of them, and by the nature of its composition she knew it would bring them to Ferio's Dominion. The mana that unwound the threads of reality was not only guided by her daughter's hand but also by the cold and unfeeling touch of the System. By me...
She did not have to think about it, the System drawing from her well on its own. Before her mind's eye, Aperio could see the System perform its work, mana flowing through infinite loops and countless runes so that it might aid the Goddess in her work.
Each part of the machine worked with the others in perfect harmony, slowly undoing the weave of her creation and stitching it back together so the space in front of them might lead to where Ferio wanted to go.
It all happened so slowly. Aperio's senses flicked between her body and the mana of her daughter slowly spreading around them. She could see the threads connect to her. Not her body, or her soul.
Her.
There was no orb hidden in her well that contained who she was; only a bottomless pit of power. The clarity she felt at the moment was without comparison — everything felt as if it was only a thought away. Every piece of her creation was just waiting on her command.
And yet, she did not know why.
A light pull on a thread shattered one of the accursed crystals, but no influx of power or memories followed. Instead, Aperio saw the mist fly out of the broken remains far faster than it should, the distant scene as clear as if it were right in front of her.
Her touch did not reach the mist that lingered above its destroyed home, the mana somehow hers but not connected. Unbound. It only took a moment longer for the mist to flicker and twist, taking on shapes Aperio could easily recognise as runes but had no meaning to her. No real meaning, at least.
She had seen them before. Not engraved on the collars, written in books, or cruelly etched into the souls she had inspected, but within the depths of the System itself. The parts that lay dormant, broken and ripped apart. Sections that hid themselves in the endless depths of the System's residence that Aperio was quickly coming to believe was the closest thing she had to a soul.
The pieces that she knew needed repair lay in the Dungeons. In the memories that had been stolen. But why can't I touch them? She knew they were parts of her, just the same as the crystal below Ebenlowe and in the dungeon she had returned to had been, as the mana was easily recognisable as her own.
Helpless, Aperio watched the crystal reform, the broken parts floating up to encase the mist that remained stolen from her. Why do I need to be there? ...Why does my body need to be there?
A surge in her daughter's magic heralded the end of her time to watch. Aperio closed her eyes, both physical and mental, as the two of them entered Ferio's Dominion. The last thought that shot through the All-Mother's mind before she and Ferio vanished from the grassy hill was that Diskrye had been right.
This is a shell.