The square I cut from the garden center’s silver screen flattens the flowerbed it lands on. It’s quiet enough, no one should notice too quickly and raise the alarm. I float down and stalk into the connected chamber.

For years I’ve known where Lady Ivory’s bedroom was but I’ve never been inside. I'm not sure what to expect but I definitely don’t expect a whole shrine to The White King. I scale the wall, ducking under a white curtain to wait out her return. This room is the pinnacle of obsession, she may be a goddess but this is unnatural even for her. I eventually notice the crystal coffin-looking thing in the center of the grand room and remember The fallen mentioning that she was only given Zorzallaz’s head. Oh stars…

I don’t even want to think about what Lady Ivory is doing with the rotting headless-corpse of the ancient Ignaisin King. If I survive this night, I’m going to have to tell The Fallen about this. All this room really tells me is why The Cult of The White King wasn’t stamped out centuries ago.

The chamber door swings open, startling me nearly off my perch. Lady Ivory slams the door behind her and makes her way into the center of the room. I duck back into the safety of the curtain but I can hear her speaking to the boxed corpse. When her voice stops, I dare a peek to see her stalking toward the bed. Now’s my chance!

I drop down behind Lady Ivory, severing the arm holding her staff and launch myself backward as the goddess lets out a howl akin to a collapsing forest. Sheathing my sword, I turn tail and sprint from her, heading for the open courtyard. Lady Ivory is not far behind when I escape the box, barreling after me with a fresh arm and staff in hand.

The wild winds of a tropical storm seizes me and sends me tumbling through open sky. Steadying myself, I ride the current to a cluster of jutting rock formations. I choose an arch and land unsteadily, slipping in the puddles, the goddess screaming in after me.

Rain pelts me, sharp and ice cold as the black waves of the ocean, churned by the storm, thundered against the gigantic stone arch. The Goddess’s skin glowed, watching me with deep animosity, her staff flaring angrily.

I swallow, drawing my sword, tip deliberately pointed at the ground. “I made a promise.”

“This time, I'll make sure it haunts you in the afterlife.”

“I’m sure the spirits of the innocent people you’ve killed will adore your company.”

Lady Ivory bursts into hysterical laughter. She doesn’t see me as a threat.

She catches me off guard then, charging me so suddenly with such ferocity that I have barely enough warning to jump out of the way. Whirling, her staff clips the back of my head, blasting stars into my vision. A bolt of lightning flashes from her hand, without thinking I raise the sword and the bolt bounces off the metal.

“Demon Lover.” Lady Ivory hisses.

“Ignaisins.” I correct her.

“You would call them that, wouldn't you.”

“It’s rather childish how you carry on this misguided hate. Ecrye is not a hellhole but Cloud Spire sure is.”

Her response is an eagerly swung staff, shattering the face of the rock where I had stood a second before. The arch crumbles away and I beat my wings hard against the violent wind, searching for a new perch. I land behind a pillar just as another bolt of lightning shot from the goddess vaporizes it. She swoops down, casting the sword from my hand and flinging me off my perch.

I roll into a crouch allowing me to deflect the swinging staff. “Stop it!”

“I’ll make this as painless as possible if you will just let me cleanse the world of your filth.”

Glowing steel catches the flying bolt of magic, throwing me back so hard I only stop when I collide with a rock wall, beating the air from my lungs.

“You’re so frustrating, for as long as you’ve been alive, you’ve been nothing but a thorn in my foot.”

“It's just who I am.” I gasp, smiling at her before diving off the cliff.

Water crashed in around me, suffocating but definitely better than the blast that would have razed me to ash. I swam as fast as I could for another rock structure. I surface, coughing violently, heaving myself out of the water and onto the slick base of a low platform.

“What were you doing in my rooms?”

“What are you doing with the body?”

“You wouldn’t understand.” Lady Ivory sneers. “He was supposed to be my forbidden lover but I couldn’t defeat him in a battle so I turned him and my sister over to the elder gods for her betrayal. You were never supposed to exist!”

Sword collides with staff. Mine bursts into light, shaking so violently I need to use both hands lest I lose it. I think she’s going to force me all the way to the ground but she suddenly recoils and before I can compensate for the unexpected move, a kick sends me flying back into a boulder.

Lady Ivory’s heel digs into my stomach, her figure illuminated by the electricity sparkling in her palm. “This time, I will not miss.”

Too bad she’s not Avarice, otherwise I would have believed her. I tighten my grip on my sword and thrust it at her as she leans in, intending to gloat more.

“No!” her voice is so soft I barely hear it over a clap of thunder. She sways, blood gushing from her chest, golden and glowing. Lady Ivory leans toward the sea, grappling my ankle and taking me over the edge with her.

We hit the waves and my sword is ripped from my cold fingers. I claw at the water, Lady Ivory’s grip just as tight as when she was still alive. With the darkness closing in faster, I consider simply yielding to the goddess’ weight.

Mother is reading to me while I'm sick in bed with an illness that has been known to prey on the young. I’m no more than a few seasons older than the little girl clutching the hem of my shirt, pointing excitedly at the passing pod of whales migrating for the Winter. I’m racing my father down the beach. I’m kissing Evangelos for the first time in the temple library. I’m cross bound, a hot iron burning the letter ‘i’ into my chest, never fading. I’m punting the ruins of my prized seashell collection into the ocean, sobbing hysterically over a betrayal. I’m with Avarice, again and again and again, never leaving his side if I can help, not even really knowing why until he’s ripping nails out of my broken body and carrying me from a living hell.

I’m everywhere where I’m not choking on salt water.

My fingers graze the hilt just as water cracks open my jaw. One adrenaline powered tread and my hands lock around my sword. It bursts to life at my touch, cleaving though the goddess’s wrist like a hot knife through butter, returning it to it’s sheath at my hip. The hand is still clamped to my ankle but I actually make progress toward the surface when I kick my legs.

Panic swallows my hope as I notice the distance I've sunk. I beat my wings hard, fighting for the surface.

My breaks the water first, the pressure behind my eyes releasing with the shock of freezing air replacing the deluge my stomach immediately rejects. Hestaria’s light is just breaking the horizon when I stop vomiting salt water and I've never been so happy to see another sunrise.