CCXIX.

‘Twas not far further from her father’s army encampment

And most of what had transpired still did not make much sense.

The silence of the goddess was spectral in its suspense,

Worrying her evermore. She was there. Watching, yet sent

Not a word. As a ghostly apparition, a poltergeist haunting.

Ríona attempted to cross the silent chasm ever-daunting:

“Aurianne, what happened? What hast thou done?” her discontent

Grew as she felt puzzled and aggrieved. A whirlwind of lament.

CCXX.

“Thou art shaped by such anguish, my sapling.” The goddess spoke

Sheepishly with a stagnant tone of utter estrangement.

“I cannot tell thee, for unspeakable matters of derangement

Transpired that night.” Aurianne felt an emotion stoke

Inside her, unbeknownst to her being. A feeling never

Felt afore. It seemed like this knot in her throat would remain forever,

A burden on her back. Most strange and unusual joke,

Which to her ancient mind would long lost memories evoke.

CCXXI.

Alas, in the penultimate moment of her admission,

She steeled herself, and began weaving the web once again:

“Thou wert flow-guided, I could but watch thy path of arcane

Sleep-walk. Thou approachedst a junction of worlds in thy condition

Whereupon thou mettest the resting soul of thy mother.

When thy wake found thee, the serene spirit was fury-smothered

And attacked. Luck would give thy father a premonition,

Saving thee from the beast and the deadly preposition.”

CCXXII.

In macabre panic and uncertain pity, she conveyed:

“Though odious sorrow now utterly fills both me and thee.

Modest as it may be, I give thee my meek sympathy.”

Ríona’s eyes watered, as tears ran down her cheeks dismayed:

“I value thy words. My world has lost much in recency’s breath.

My heart hurts terribly, alas I cannot stop the breadth

Of pain which blights my arm. I’ve been torn in twain and left decayed;

Both body and soul. My hand is gone, Aurianne, my bind betrayed.”

CCXXIII.

“‘Tis alright, dear. We will find a way on this bleakest of days.

‘Twas not vigour thy greatest strength but thy sheer ingenuity!”

The goddess clenched her teeth as she hoped her mask’s acuity

Would prove enough, despite the weight of lies which did emblaze

Her own hubris before her eyes and her mind confounding:

“Why am I this tense?! Why is my soul-heart ever-pounding?”

The duo continued their path in a silent malaise,

Neither sure of their perceptions, watched closely by the sunrays.

CCXXIV.

Making their way through the prairie, the lay of eventide

Began its sombre tune of wind, and her walk long-winded

Would still not come to an end. “How much further…” Her thoughts turbid.

Aurianne replied: “Hast thou beheld the oddness beside

And abound us? A profound essence of absurdity

And confusion?” she let the air brush across grasses surlily.

Her hidden breeze sounded: “We stand where our two worlds collide.

I speak in cheerless truths; our judgment day has now arrived.” 

CCXXV.

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The sun began to shine its red hue with intensity,

The flames engulfing her wholly. Shadows extended right

And left. Whoever this was, they were of all-powerful might.

A sharp, harsh, yet divine voice bellowed with stark immensity

From every corner of the world unto Ríona quaked:

“She who walks – stand. She who stands – listen.” A black silhouette shaped

In the middle of the red glow: “You stand before me… guilty

Of breaking all tenets! Showed Weakness, Cowardice, Timidity.”

CCXXVI.

Ríona held her handless wrist before her eyes, covering

Them from the light and begged for answers: “Who are you? Why do this?”

They growled: “Silence! Kin-in-kind are meant to uphold the merits

And virtues of the people-folk, not pervert them!” The puncturing

Voice cut deepest: “It is with your kind, I often contemplate,

Whether the worlds need saving!” Their words knew only to berate

“Please, I beg thee,” the girl plead, “of all these crimes numbering

You accuse me of, find mercy!” The light continued smothering.

CCXXVII.

Suddenly, she felt a strong grip on her left wrist pulling away

From her eyes, engulfing her in the piercing, hurtful light.

The voice roared ravenously: “The maimed cannot defend and fight

For themselves without able bodies!” the scream echoed dismay

And reverberated about her, as she felt the sun-scorching

Heat around her wrist. She fell to her knees as the pain kept outpouring:

“Please, I beg you, no more! I can’t this punishment obey

For crimes I did not commit! Why can’t this world just let me decay?!”

CCXXVIII.

“Nonsense!” the voice continued to growl yet began to soften,

“Prove to me you are worthy of your title. Take destiny

Into your own hands and, at once, replenish yourself fully!”

Ríona hesitated for a single heartbeat-caution

And a shout filled her every pore: “I. Will. Not. Ask. Again!

You carry a serpent, a demon, a witch of wicrow hell-bane

In your vessel and I will strike you down where you stand-trodden

If you do not give a reason which might make your errs forgotten”

CCXXIX.

“Prove to me you are at least capable of containing it,

Something you haven’t thus far!” the voice then released her arm

And took a stand. At last, she could see the one doing harm,

As a long, flat blade kept gleaming through the shadowed darkness split.

She clenched her teeth and began harnessing the errant flow,

Attempting to grow out her missing limb, yet to her woe,

She fiercely struggled, groaning, as she to the task commit.

Alas, she could not the living flesh together refit.

CCXXX.

“Then… you have failed.” Spoke the voice, grabbing her wrist violently:

“I give you the title for which you shall be know across the worlds!

The worlds began with a Hand of Stone which wrought all the herds,

And so too shall be ended by it once all will die silently;

And so too stone I shall give thee. A wretched moniker,

Let it bring disdain to your heart, your guilt to chronicler.”

The Goddess of Justice spoke in words which bled antipathy,

“Your father would be proud.” She finished her tirade spitefully.

CCXXXI.

Krikashe raised her open palm and a rush of a potent flow-river

Burst towards Ríona, engulfing her arm in the viscid

Magick, as stones and pebbles accumulated in twisted,

Intertwined pellets. The purpurate flow unfamiliar

Crafted the new hand from the most abundant nature’s resource.

After a gruelling and painful minute, she laid without recourse,

Curled up and shivering. The bewildering justice now gave her

A stone hand which glowed azure. “Wear this bond well, World-Killer!”