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"I met your siblings," I say casually. "I brought them back."
"That was ill-advised, daughter." Is that my imagination, or did I just see a flash of fear in his eyes?
A wry chuckle slips from between my lips. "You're not wrong about that. Amaryn is a piece of work, and Avidor…"
"What did my brother do?"
"Besides making it clear that he wanted me as his consort? He was an ass." I twirl the knife I pulled from Nimh's chest in between my fingers. "It's interesting, though." He's hanging onto every word I say, sitting on the edge of the desk. His eyes are wild, and I can see the barely contained madness swirling beneath thesurface.
"Do you see what I told told told you? That they do not care about people. All that matters to them is their own power power power." He runs his hands through his hair, eyes darting around the space in paranoia.
"Oh, you're not wrong about that. But for all their faults, they did teach me a very important lesson."
He leans closer to me, white brows lifted up to his hairline. "Do tell!" he exclaims.
"How about I show you?" Gently, I place my hand atop his on the desk and slowly pull his magic from his body.
His shoulders lock, and he roars, yanking away from me, but it is too late.
The magic of Winter roils happily within me as I become a God of all Seasons. The only God of Krillium.
"How could you?" he screams, flinging himself off the desk and charging at me. It is easy for me to flick shadows toward him and wrap him up in them, suspending him just slightly above the ground where his bare toes barely touch the floor. "How could you?" he repeats, quieter. "How could you?"
"Here's the thing, Himureal," I say, using his blade to clean under my nails. "You've been asking people to submit to you or die, but what you do not realize is there is power in submission. Just because someone makes the choice to kneel before you does not mean they follow you. It does not mean that they support you. When someone makes that choice to submit, they are choosing to live another day."
He thrashes against the bindings, yelling, trying to interruptme, so I wrap his face in a shadow as a gag. "Those that you killed for not submitting are no more or less brave than those that choose to kneel before you. You seemed to forget that sometime people can pretend to follow you and that, ultimately, is your downfall. You were so desperate for love and affection, like your little helper over there," I nod my chin towards the dead figure of Nimh, sprawled on the floor, "that you readily and easily believed that I was here to take your hand."
As the Illusionary magic fades around me, I can feel the magic surge within me and flutter to life. A soft buzzing fills the air, and I shake my head to clear it, but it stays. It was easy to forget how loud all of the magic in Ytopie is.
I face Himureal, my blade raised to put him out of his misery when fights against his gag, yelling around it. I peel the shadow off and flick my blade at him, giving him a chance to say his final words.
"Viola, Viola, Viola, please. You have to understand. This is just the way I am. This is how they made me," he begs. "I wasn't supposed to be this way, don't you see? Before the banishment, I was loved. I had a family. I was loved. Loved. Loved."
"Lucinda?" I say quietly. "Your high priest?"
"It was pure. It was true. I loved her, and she loved me. She was supposed to bring me back. Bring me back." Thick tears fall down his cheeks. "Why didn't she bring me back?"
I can't pretend to know the motivations of his former high priest. It is heartbreaking that the woman he loved left him to rot, but that doesn't excuse what has transpired since the ritual.
"Icannot say, Frostweaver," I say gently. "But we cannot base our decisions off of what ifs."
"Please, Viola. Viola. You don't understand what I went through through through."
"That's the thing, Frostweaver. I do understand." I rub my free hand on the back of my neck. "But what has transpired here can't continue. You'll never be satisfied, Himureal. Do you think you can live a normal life after all of this? You're broken." In my gut, I feel sorry for the God, but logically, I know he will never change. I will forever be looking over my shoulder, tracking his actions, fighting against his nature to keep him in line.
Even without his magic, he is a danger to the realm that I have sworn myself to protect.
He thrashes against the shadows that were once his to command. "I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. Please, let me try. Let me try. I can do this. I can live a normal life."
When I look into his bright eyes, I can't help but see myself.
Who I could've been.
Who I would've been.
Who I was saved from being.
Without the guidance of those that I love and who love me, I could've easily fallen into isolation and desolation and ended up exactly where the Frostweaver is now.
