The funny and annoying thing about sadness is how it sneaks up on you.

In moments of weakness, you feel a pull just below your jaw, in the weak nape of your neck, but then you’d push it down, force that desperate feeling to wade water for as long as possible, drown it below the noise of everyday life. But sometimes something, someone, comes along, so suddenly, so abruptly, that they drain all the water out of that pool of repression; they force those uncomfortable feelings to surface, arms spread, and devour you.

Nothing could have prepared Momo for the tsunami that was seeing Valerica again.

It was an involuntary motion, really, her hands wrapping around the woman encased in all black, more of a beautiful void than a person. Somehow she still smelled the same – blood and lavender – and her laugh was just as maniacal and sweet, her hands as cold and kind as they held the small of Momo’s back. Seconds, minutes passed, yet not a flicker of life moved on the boat. Not a squeak of the wood or a thrash of waves.

It was just them; as cliché as overwrought and simplistic as it was, that was the only way Momo could think to put it. She found herself crying into Valerica’s collar, embarrassed as her tears stained the purple cloth. But Valerica didn’t mind – she just held her, let the low notes of Momo’s sobs hit her chest as she hummed something Momo didn’t recognize, but enjoyed all the same.

“Oh, dear,” she said, pulling back Momo’s hair and forming it into a bun, strapping it together with a black elastic. “People management takes a toll on the soul, does it not?”

Sniffling, Momo finally pulled away, facing the woman in full. The Nether around her had dispersed, leaving her new form in the plain daylight. She looked mostly the same, her skin was still as pale as a vampire’s, her lips still bloody red, but she was taller now, the kind of size that distinguished her from regular mortals; it gave her a sense of superiority, of god-like condescension. It suited her.

Her clothes had also changed, although due to her ascension, or simply her ever-transient fashion tastes, Momo wasn’t sure. Gone were the Necromage robes, replaced instead by a sheer black dress that went down to her ankles, wisps of smoke billowing from the sleeves. A dark purple attaché sat at her hip, and a blooming lavender flower was tucked behind her ear. She looked like a Bond Girl dressed for a cocktail party; the type of look that was hiding a gun.

“You look great,” Momo whispered, blushing as she did. After all, she was really looking upon a goddess, not in the metaphorical, I have a crush on the hot cult leader kind of way, but a proper, Morgana-appointed deity. It overwhelmed her senses in an entirely new way than before.

“So do you,” Valerica said earnestly, taking one of Momo’s remaining white locks and twisting it around her finger. As she did, the hair went from white to black, alive to ash. Valerica withdrew her finger immediately, a pained expression on her face. “Oh drat. I forgot I was made of Nether now. Apologies to your poor hair follicle, you probably will be bald there for a few months.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Momo laughed nervously, watching as the ashen remains of her hair floated to the ground.

Valerica looked towards the top of the massive sail, where the crow’s nest sat.

“Why don’t we find a quiet place to drink, hm?”

—

“Is that… alcohol?”

“In a way,” Valerica said, leaning back and propping her knees up in the small, enclosed space.

The bird’s nest was shaped like a circular bathtub, with about as much space as one. They sat parallel, their knees knocking together. It was intimate and cozy, and cold, the air chilled and the oxygen lackluster, but the view was spectacular. Momo could see for miles, even beyond the mist, towards the runny egg of a horizon; she could even see a few smaller, softly bobbing boats in the distance. Other sailors heading East.

Uncorking the drink, Valerica filled two cups up with a dark liquid. It came from a shining glass bottle, with a label reading Nether Nectar on the front. She gave one glass to Momo, who eyed it with equal parts fear and suspicion, then pressed the other to her own lips, drinking it slowly.

“I still prefer wine,” she said. “But nothing beats the trip that Nectar can take you on.”

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“The trip?” Momo said slowly, knowing she had been smart for not immediately swallowing it down. Gifts from Valerica were always meant to be enjoyed after asking as many questions as possible, and then, even after that, probably stored in a dark cellar somewhere in case they grew sentient.

“Oh yes,” she laughed, that glint in her eye that told Momo to be very afraid. “It’s just divine. Three shots of this and your soul chain is being ripped across the planes like a fish on a reel. It’s perfect for a stomach ache or any malady, really. There won’t be enough of you left to feel the pain.”

Momo stared at her.

“So this’ll kill me?”

“Of course not. What part of what I said made you think that?” Valerica pouted. “It simply lets you teleport between the mortal realm and the Nether. If you were still human, it’d probably result in a particularly gruesome death, yes, but fortunately, you are not. You are just an adorable little horned demon now. It’s the way I always saw you, really.”

Valerica reached out to touch Momo’s horned head, then paused mid air, seemingly remembering what happened to her hair when she cradled that just a moment before. Momo stopped herself from being disappointed.

Properly taking in what Valerica said, Momo brightened slightly. “So if I drink this I can visit you whenever I want?”

“Probably,” Valerica said, licking her lips. “Not sure. That’s why you’ll have Nyk to help you along.”

“Nyk?”

“Oh, haven’t you two met?”

Valerica opened her attaché and revealed a small glass jar. Inside it was a woman, shrunken down to the size of a pixie, pounding at the glass. Her voice was too small to hear, but she seemed obviously pissed. The hairstyle, the clothing, the general sense of gothic distress – Momo immediately recognized her. It was the dokkaebi that Sera had sent to kill her back in Snowdrop.

“You trapped her in a glass jar?” Momo squeaked. “Please don’t tell me you’re going to open it.”

“Of course I am,” Valerica laughed. “But not yet. We still have much to discuss.”

She stuffed the jar back into her purse.

“So,” Valerica said, clapping her hands together and leveling Momo with a meaningful look. “You’re the queen of a nation now. Worse, a nation of unruly citizens who haven’t yet accepted your sovereignty, and there’s a counter-movement to overthrow you, led by traitorous necromancers, no less – yet you’re floating away to a distant land on a stolen ship, just like Jarva did.”

She took another casual sip, then smiled placidly.

“How do you square that circle?”

Momo flushed, taken aback. That had to be the most direct and critical thing Valerica had ever said to her. The woman usually spoke in elaborate, insane riddles that could only be deciphered by some sort of undiscovered artificial intelligence, but that series of observations was… uncomfortably lucid.

Momo squirmed under Valerica’s lightning sharp gaze, crossing her arms in front of her stomach.

Is this what being turned into a goddess did to her? If so, Momo wanted to rewrite her haiku.

“Yes, but, um –”

“Oh, your face. I’m merely joking, Momo,” Valerica grinned. It was terrifying. “I know exactly how you square that circle. As always, your mental chess is leagues ahead of my own – even with my new, all-powerful brain. You clearly just wanted a vacation. You take after me, my dear, knowing that it’s always best to take your paid time off the moment things have truly hit their cataclysmic point.”

“Wait, what?”

“It makes complete sense to me. You knew that Sera and I were having a little tiff, a bit of a ram-on-ram situation, our horns crossed – hah, horns, not literally like you, of course – so you wanted to sit this one out while we figured things out. Brilliant, really. You didn’t want to get your citizens involved in the fray, so you decided to let things fizzle out.”

“No, that’s not exactly –”

“But it’s no problem, really. You can turn the ship around now. Sera and I made up.”

Momo’s mouth froze in place. She waited for the punchline, but nothing came.

“I’m sorry – you what?’

“Ah, is that not an expression amongst you earthlings? Made up. Er, made amends. Confessed. Atoned. Purged. Prayed at the altar of friendship. We are good. So much so that we’re going to go on a trip together to the Distant Isles once she’s back from her research sabbatical. I’ve been in a frenzy to buy the right bathing suit, you know – something casual yet cool yet not too cool.”

As Valerica droned on about her preferences in swimwear, Momo’s brain slowly broke down. She blinked several times and nodded along, trying to piece together exactly what she was hearing right now.

Does she seriously not know?

“Valerica, just who do you think is running the Holy Resistance?”

“The who?”

“The traitorous necromancers you mentioned.”

“Oh, them. Yes, yes, Bia and Burgienne. I’ve heard they’re just the nastiest breed of necromancer. Totally unfaithful, allergic to the smell of blood. Just unsuited. Not a clue who they think they’re working for, they stand for nothing that Morgana would agree with.”

“Oh my god,” Momo said, the color draining from her face. “Valerica, I – where have you been getting your information from?”

Valerica’s eyebrow creased. “Well, Sera. Of all us three, Morgana appointed her to oversee mortal affairs. Of course, I didn’t trust her at first, I’m not dim, but every time I could reasonably check on things, I did. I wasn’t able to dig deep into the details, I’m quite busy with my onboarding, but all the high-level items she was reporting seemed to be adding up to reality. Necromancer rebellion, chicken religion, stolen pirate ship, et cetera.”

Momo ran her hands through her hair, a headache forming there. “Of course…”

When she met Valerica’s eyes again, a quiet fury had begun to build behind them. The ship began to creak, the mist grew dark above the sail. A bird, previously sitting peacefully on the mast, suddenly combusted.

“Am I missing something, darling?”