The bottles had not moved. Aria cradled them in her hands and stared into space. Perhaps it would not work. How could a potion induce love? Perhaps she would take it and find that she had been tricked. But, then, she would be forced to work with Alogun. That thought made her even more nauseous. If she had to be forced to love someone, she preferred to infect herself from a bottle.

She put the blue bottle down on her bed and uncorked the red one. It felt like suicide. She marvelled at the way her hands obeyed her commands, even as her fury mounted. She hated being forced to make such a choice. All her life was now a maze of difficult choices.

The bottle contained only a single black pill. She rolled it between two fingers, marvelling at its size. Perhaps there would be good in this. Somewhere, in the world, a little girl dreamed of marrying a prince. She had exceeded that girl’s dreams by several orders of magnitude.

She put the pill into her mouth and swallowed. It was better to execute her own plan than to trust known traitors.

She rose to her feet and began to pace.

Seconds seemed to take an eternity as she waited. A minute passed, then two minutes, then ten. She had promised to speak to the others in thirty minutes, but she had not expected to need that many. This was supposed to be simple. She would take the potion, fall in love, and spend the rest of her life in forced bliss. Perhaps the potion would even do something for her disdain for Tivelo and the current ache of defeat in her stomach.

Her stomach turned.

She had seconds to find a flower pot and empty it, then she was heaving into it. There was little to throw up. Without hunger, she was regularly forgetting to eat. What ended up in the flowerpot was, thankfully, mostly unidentifiable liquid.

Her nausea disappeared as quickly as it had come on, but she felt no better. Her stomach felt tight; her chest ached. Her whole body felt heavy. She realized that she was sitting on the ground, remarkably close to lying beside a vomit bucket, and she felt as if she had been ill for days.

She pushed herself to her feet because lying on the floor felt pathetic. She swayed, but she made it.

Then, the first image appeared in her mind: Achi. His face filled every empty corner of her mind, his smile brave and sad like a wounded warrior, pushing through his pain toward his death.

Aria’s chest constricted.

The image changed. She saw Achi as Achi as Isei, tipping half of his lunch onto her own plate with a thrilled smile. He had done that often and then proceed to watch her eat as if nothing in life matter more than the sight of her. And she had eaten it, guiltily, because his despair when she refused was unbearable.

The memory felt sharp, like the sight of a gift from a deceased friend. She forced it away, but more followed. Each was different, but unpleasant. Achi, anxiously lying to his father while she hid. Achi glaring at her in exasperation while she tried to sink into Evera’s bed. Achi telling her to give up all hope of becoming a goddess.

Achi watching her with horror when he woke up to her kiss. She recognized what she had not then. Betrayal, despair, anger, and acceptance. He was a man stripped of all his hopes, even the hope of a few more weeks of life, by the woman he thought he loved. And he wouldn’t fight his fate.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

At the feast, she had learned that he would die and her overriding worry had been about herself. She had not asked how she could save him. It had not occurred to her that it would be possible. It had not mattered over her fear for her own self. She had plotted to save herself with his death. She had actually presented such a plan to him. And he had refused it, not because of its disgusting selfishness, but because he was still trying to save her.

Her stomach turned and she found herself on the floor, heaving into the bucket again. When that was over, she stayed down, her body too weak to fight gravity; weak from pain and weak from guilt. She had slept in his bed, touched the jewelry he gave her, eaten his food, worn his clothes. She had dared to be angry at him, irritated that he had not better prepared her, when the slightest trace of humanity should have compelled her to curl into a ball, repulsed by her own self.

One more memory visited her: the kiss. It felt different in the memory, not like a planned investigation, but an island of bliss. She felt herself sink into it, thrilled and scared and happy for one eternal moment. Even as the memory faded, the feeling remained. And she didn’t regret it. She regretted every moment that had come since then, but not that one.

Then, the visions were gone, and she was left with nothing but herself, a silent room, and a sense of purpose.

She rose from the ground, her body moving almost without her guidance. All the planning and worries that had tormented her, each one driving her choices like a whipmaster, all of them were gone. The path forward was clear. She had to revive Achi, and she knew how to do it. Tivelo would return, yes. He would be furious. But that mattered as little as the stars did in the overwhelming brightness of day.

She teleported to the middle realm. She needed to find Achi’s body. Strangely, she knew where it was. Her whole body felt drawn toward it like a compass pointing north.

Insider her, something kept screaming. You’re insane. It’s the potion. You’re supposed to make plans before walking into the scorpion’s nest. You’re supposed to stay where it’s safe.

The voice was loud, but only as a bee’s buzzing could be loud; loud and meaningless. She ignored it with little effort. Even if it was correct, she was doing the right thing. And it was the only thing to do.

Wait five minutes and this will wear off, it said.

You’re going to revive Tivelo. You’re going to give him what he wants. He tortured you. You still have nightmares. He hurt and used you for his son. Why would you give him victory? He won’t forgive you. He’ll find a way to punish you anyway. It’s who he is.

No one can live in this upside-down world, she told the voice, where someone helps you and you hurt him in return. I can’t repay him even by reviving him, but I can take small steps.

The voice fell silent. It knew that reasoning with her was pointless.

She walked into Alogun’s home to absolute silence. The watching deities stood stunned, likely confused at her sudden arrival and the sense of purpose in her steps. She found Achi’s body where her senses had told her it would be, lying unceremoniously on the ground with Alogun beside it. The sight tore at her, so she pressed forward and knelt beside the body. She ignored Alogun’s confused stare and the others approaching footsteps. She ignored the feel of Alogun’s barrier forming around the building, trapping her in.

She bent over Achi, and as quickly as the idea formed in her mind, she kissed him. A wave of power left her, like a massive breath, and washed over the room, bathing her, the body, the witnesses, and every wall.

It seemed to linger for a moment, heavy in the air. And then, in one instant, it dissolved, taking with it her strength and every trace of compulsion in her mind.

It felt like suddenly coming awake when you had not known that you were asleep. She knew where she was. She recognized most of the gathered deities. She even recalled every step that had brought her to that position, but she struggled to understand why she was there.