Lyvina stared into the palm of her newly restored hand, opening and closing it, flipping and turning. She tapped the tip of her shoe against the ground, jumping up and down, swinging her leg around to get a full feel for her body. She breathed in and out, testing her lungs as she put a hand to her heart, and felt that it was beating. She was alive. She was finally, truly, alive.
She felt great. Her headache was gone, the pain in her chest had vanished, and her body which felt so thin was padded out. The only thing that wasn’t cured was the fever, though it had cooled down somewhat since she ended her childish delusions. Her body was still steaming away, though she couldn’t say why. It didn’t matter, she supposed; the poison in her body had been neutralised, drowned out by the constant flow of mana flooding her. Meanwhile, the monsters of the village were experiencing a death more than fitting for their kind.
“GAH AHK KA!” The sweet sound of guttural choking sang from the orc’s mouth, a delightful melody that accompanied his performance as he squirmed on the ground. Though he managed to cut himself loose from the main body of the rope, the noose around his neck continued to tighten—an automated constrictor that wouldn’t relent until its job was complete. Lyvina smiled at the monster who drove her over the edge, the one who made her feel so horrible, happy to see justice finally starting to prevail, even if it was only a sample of what she had to endure. Still, it was quite impressive how long he was struggling. Whether he still considered that famed endurance a blessing or a curse in this situation was a question only he could answer.
She hung over the dying monster, her eyes fixed on his. The strange mechanical eye remained exposed, though there was no green light surging through its pupil, remaining a dormant dark void. Even in his current state, she was sure that the orc would be more than happy to blast her if he could. Yet, he seemed in no rush to smite her with that insidious light again. Whether the device was on cooldown, out of charge, or had to be done when you weren’t getting choked to death, she supposed it didn’t matter.
Lyvina moved her hands towards the magical artifact, a weak palm the only opposition the orc could muster, and easily batted away. She touched the metal, warm from the heat of the orc’s body, smooth and solid. She inserted her finger into the void hole, though the orc didn’t appear to react any more violently than he already was.
It must not feel like a real eye to him, she thought.
The inside of the void was filled with engravings, so small and intricate, covering the entire chamber. She remembered reading so many books about magic so very long ago; every spell had to be, well, spelled out in annoyingly dramatic detail. One couldn’t just cast a fireball and be done with it. Instead, mages of old had to practically petition the mana for its power while doing some sort of ridiculous gesture or dance. Each mage had their own style—some were respectful, others insolent; some begged for the power, others ordered it; some gave grandiose speeches declaring their attack and the damage it would rain upon the world, while others just gave a summary. That same principle was used in enchanting too. The void in the eye wasn’t natural. More likely, it was some sort of anti-theft enchantment to prevent someone from stealing their work, masking the inscription inside that brings about the poison blood effect.
Her fingers grasped the top and bottom of the item and pulled. The artifact resisted at first, clinging to the socket it was housed in. The orc, again, tried to stop her, but his arms had grown weak, and his strength was dwarfed by hers. With a little more pressure, the eye came free, a satisfying pop accompanying its removal, leaving an empty cavity. The orc glared at her weakly, his face purple now. She was disappointed, he didn’t seem any more in pain than before. The eye really wasn’t integrated into his body—just an item to fill a hole.
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The eye sat in the palm of her hand for a time as she admired it, a small evil grin crossing her face, before she took it between her fingers once more. “I bet this was your favourite,” She taunted, pointing the eye towards the monster, a realisation dawning in his remaining eye. “Why don’t you show me why!” She howled, her manic smile returning as she poured mana from her body into the eye.
She felt it, like a container so close to being empty suddenly filling up, to the point it was overflowing, and yet still, she kept pushing. The eye began to go haywire, with sparks of mana covering the metal, trying to cram itself into the device. The green light was forcefully activated and shut off multiple times, each time covering the orc in its effect.
With a mental command, she allowed the rope to loosen its grip, granting a small mercy, for a larger payoff. The brute took in one solid breath of air, before he felt the effects of his own weapon turned against him—the poison he so loved to inflict onto others forcing him to writhe and choke, to feel the stinging pain within his own body where no relief could be found.
Lyvina edged the eye closer to his face until it was almost pressing against him, all the while, the light flashed on, and off, and on, and off. He stared at the item he so affectionately adored, fixated on the object like it was the only thing in the universe. Then, between her fingers, it began to bend and buckle as the pressure increased, until all at once, she crushed the eye, flattening it into just another piece of scrap metal before tossing it to the side like so much trash.
She crouched down next to him, his suffering so delightful, watching as his expression ran the gamut from pain to anger, to loss, to anger, to utterly furious, and then back to agony. It was the rush of a lifetime just watching him, and she wanted to do more, so much more. The world needed to pay for what it did to her, and he was more than deserving of punishment.
The endurance that helped define his race brought only more agony, but even that could only go so far. Soon enough, the monster’s movements reduced to twitches, before ceasing altogether. Lyvina stood up, stretching her hands out wide looking up towards the sky. She opened her mouth in delight at her handiwork. Her nooses had been so very busy while she was having fun, with rows upon rows of goblins already hanging in her makeshift gallows in the sky under her sun. There must have been dozens of them, maybe even more than a hundred, both big and small. Finally, they knew—they all knew just how she once felt all that time ago. It was truly breathtaking. Finally, finally! There was justice in this world!
“Hahahahahahahahahahaha!” The manic laugh that could only come from pure, unhinged bliss echoed throughout the village—one once filled with such boring, horrible people, but now was only filled with her. Her and her justice.
Yet, that wasn’t completely true, not just yet.
Her bone-chilling laugh drew to a close as Lyvina’s eyes fell upon the one place left in her prison that still required her justice to be carried out, that still needed to feel her pain. The church.
The hangmen drawn from her star slammed themselves against the doors, walls and windows like battering rams, yet there was no sign of it yielding to her power.
That place, that building, it was different, it was… fuzzy. She could see Carnifex so clearly, feel the buildings and fields and trees that fell within the boundaries of the village, yet the church was different. It felt like something was there, a presence beyond the physical challenging her authority.
“He’s there,” Lyvina spoke.
It seemed The First, the god that had abandoned her for so long, was still protecting those people, even now through all this chaos. A vicious smile crossed her face at the thought. It was so nice of him to finally pay attention, and she was going to make sure he had a front-row seat for what she was about to do to his followers.
This was her prison, this was her nightmare, this was her pain, and she’d make sure everyone understood exactly what that meant.
They’d all pay, if it was the last thing she’d do.