17 - Vella’s Call

???

For it was as he gazed upon her frozen eyes, as he reflected the pale light of her skin, and felt the cold touch of her knife, he knew that death would come to all.

Scriptures of the Savage Gods, Verse 3-5

___

A halo formed in the space above my head as I processed my return to reality. With the final piece of equipment came a sudden surge of power. Light pulsed through the motifs that decorated my armour—a toxic, coral light born of the goddess’ might.

It wasn’t her blessing. I had received that in the instant that Ragnar and I had triumphed over the lord of thunder. If anything, its function was closer to that of a curse. The power corroded my mind, flooding it with the urge to lose myself in senseless violence. She was priming me for my ascension, basking me in her divinity so that I would awaken to a power in line with her own upon taking the final step. She wished for me to become one of the aspects who governed the principals of war, a symbol of her presence upon the battlefield, and an avatar through which her power could corrupt the mortal realm.

“Congratulations, Virillius. You have reached my throne.” She extended her right hand, so that I could take and become it. “You have seen the future, everything that lies in wait. It is… bleak. But take your place as my servant, and I promise that I will provide you the means of correcting it. Take my hand and mold this world in whatever shape it is you desire.”

She was offering me a chance to save Violet. And a chance to save Sirius from a life of pain. A chance to erase the future that she had flashed before my eyes.

By swearing my allegiance again, by renewing my vow to the goddess, I would be able to wed the woman of my dreams. I would be able to give my son, our son, the life he deserved. I would find the happiness I had always longed for.

So I reached towards the tips of her fingers.

And swatted them away.

“Never.” My voice was quiet, solemn. I wanted to seethe with rage, to explode then and there with fury. But I just didn’t have the emotional bandwidth to bother.

When I looked at her, I only found my suspicions confirmed. One might have typically expected such a refusal to be met with some sort of anger or indignation. The goddess had gone out of her way to meet with me personally and set up a trial precisely because she wanted me to join her ranks. But Vella was nothing if not pleased. Like she had hoped for this to happen.

“There’s one thing I want to confirm,” I said.

“You may ask.”

I took a deep breath. “Why?”

A disquieting laugh rang through the cathedral. “To create the ultimate warrior.” The words were nonchalant. She knew that they would rile me. “When I made you, Virillius, I defined every parameter with utmost care. I carefully guided you through life and painstakingly handcrafted every event and person that drove your growth. Your brother’s betrayal. Your feelings for Violet. Your military career. All of it was of my making.”

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

I bit my lip. The taste of iron filled my mouth, but I managed to hold myself back, even as her aura returned and flooded the arena with its weight renewed.

“And all of my plans went perfectly. You completed every task. You exceeded my expectations by far and forced me to adjust my plans. You became stronger than I ever could have imagined. Even though I thought my creation perfect within all realms of reason.”

“I was a puppet.” It was just as Sirius had said. A message that he had delivered through the fabric of time.

“Yes.” She laughed, cackled. “From the moment that you were born.” The goddess slowly rose from her seat as she formed a blade in her hands. She walked down the stairs and flexed each of her fingers in turn. “I didn’t mean to tell you until you reached the sixth stage, but I can’t wait that long. You’ve already accrued enough power.” The same pink glow that adorned the tips of her legs spread through the length of her blade. “Fight me, Virillius. Ascend. Become an aspect and face me. Surprise me. Excite me. Release me from my endless boredom and grant me eternity in death.”

She was my sixteenth opponent.

I was meant to duel the goddess of war.

It wasn’t impossible. My sixth sense was whispering that she could be slain. The odds weren’t in my favour, but at the very least, they were better than when I faced the lord of thunder. Perhaps that too was as per her calculations. It was the sort of gamble I was happy to take.

And yet, her call went unanswered.

I didn’t bother raising my weapons. Leaving them to hang by my side, I spun around and walked away. It was hardly a characteristic decision—I was angry, I was foolish, and I was practically a hotblooded child—but having seen so much of the future, I finally understood. I needed to stay calm and consider each option in turn.

“W-wait, where are you going!?” cried the goddess. “Come back! If you leave now, Viole—”

“I won’t let her die.” I took a deep breath and steadied my trembling hands. “I’ll find a way to save her on my own.”

“Your feelings for her mean nothing, Virillius! Not when they were crafted by my hand!”

“I don’t care.”

They might have been of her making, but the emotions I felt were still my own. It didn’t matter what the goddess claimed. My heart was still true. And it belonged to Violet.

“Don’t be ridiculous! Get back here and fight me!”

She continued to speak. I continued to ignore her. I walked away from the goalpost, the weight lifting from my shoulders with every step I took. And it was not because her pressure abated.

No.

It was because I made her divine armaments my own.

Their essence melted into my body as I sapped their power. The halo, the spear, the gauntlets, the greaves. One by one, their empty shells detached from my frame and clattered onto the ground in the opposite order they formed.

I didn’t need her borrowed might. My ascension would be on my own terms, crafted of my own divinity. Honed to a fine edge, beyond anything she could have possibly fathomed.

I could tell from her poor acting that I was still playing right into her hands. By choosing to rebel, I was only setting myself on the path she paved. But it didn’t matter. The bridge between us was burned.

She wouldn’t save Violet. She wouldn’t protect my son or lead him to the power that he needed to resist her. To her, I was just a tool. Something to fuel her deranged lust for battle; a weapon to give her a place to die.

I couldn’t rely on her empty promises. Even if it meant falling into her trap, I would take my fate, our fates, into my own hands.

And more importantly, I had better things to do than dawdle in the old witch’s cathedral.

That field of violets wasn’t going to plant itself.