Tamsin's hand flew up to her ear and she turned towards the source of the sound. She was shocked to find herself face to face with... the Duchess?

Something about the Duchess was strange. The messy hair looked right, as did the tired face, the battle-worn clothes, the noble bearing...

The eyes, Tamsin realized. It's the eyes that are wrong.

Instead of a calm gray they were pitch black. Not just the irises. It was like they weren't eyes at all, but holes in the universe. Two yawning voids looking right at her.

Once Tamsin noticed that, she also realized that they were no longer in the audience chamber of her family's mansion, but some sort of blank white space that went on forever in either direction. Tamsin fell to her knees, overwhelmed by the strangeness of it all.

"You mortals love to blame us for your problems," said the impostor Duchess. "Have you ever considered that the bad things that happen to you might be the natural consequences of your own actions? Well, not your actions specifically. Of mortals' actions in general. Although you being such a passive little dormouse certainly didn't do anything to save you."

Recovering from the shock just enough to remember recent events, Tamsin suddenly reached for her belly, feeling for the wound there, and was surprised to find herself whole.

"Oh, this isn't your physical body, honey," said the 'Duchess.' "It's just your residual spiritual essence. Your physical body is currently bleeding out on your father's 'throne.' It's Alesia's throne now, although I guess she'll probably end up replacing that chair. That girl doesn't actually like sitting on blood-soaked thrones, although I don't get the hesitation myself."

"Who are you?" asked Tamsin.

"You mean you don't know?" Her dark eyes seemed to grow even darker and wider, threatening to swallow Tamsin whole. "I am Iphrix, Goddess of War. You cursed me just before your death. Or have you forgotten?"

Just before your death...

"I'm dead then," said Tamsin.

"Obviously. Your kind tend not to survive being run through with a broadsword." Iphrix snapped her fingers and a golden throne appeared behind her, which she sat down on. "Well, let's have it, then."

"Have what?" asked Tamsin.

"Your apology," said Iphrix. "For so rudely cursing me with your dying breath."

Tamsin was vaguely aware that she should be feeling more intimidated. After all, she was in the presence of an actual Goddess. And what's more, the Goddess of War was well-known for being one of the angrier and more fickle Gods of the Empire. It wasn't generally considered wise to offend her.

But on the other hand... Tamsin was already dead.

"No," said Tamsin.

"What was that?" asked Iphrix.

"No, I won't apologize," said Tamsin, glaring right at the Goddess.

Iphrix slammed her fist on the arm of her throne. "How dare you!"

"Why should I apologize?" asked Tamsin. Finding her strength, Tamsin finally got up from the ground. Her hands curled into fists by her side. "Why does it even matter to you? If you're some mighty Goddess and I'm a weak mortal, why do you even care what I say, dying breath or not? Are you that petty?"

"Petty? Why, I—" Iprhix stopped and took a deep breath. "Let me tell you something, dormouse. You're blaming the wrong person. If you want to curse someone you should be cursing the Emperor."

"What?" asked Tamsin. "Why?"

"Don't you know he declared himself a living God?" said Iphrix. "Built a temple to himself and everything."

"Yeah, of course," said Tamsin.

When the announcement was made a few years ago the temple in Gwedric had spent half its annual budget to put in a new shrine. When it was finished it was larger and more grand than any of the other god shrines, because although the good people of the Empire feared all the gods equally, God-Emperor Heinrich had an army, which tended to make that fear feel a bit more immediate and pressing.

Iphrix leaned forward on her throne. "That kind of hubris from a mortal can't go unanswered."

"And that meant I had to die?" asked Tamsin. "I didn't declare myself any sort of God."

Iprhix rolled her eyes. "You think so simplistically. No, you didn't declare yourself any sort of God. But in order to punish the Emperor, I needed a champion. For years now, I've slowly been shaping Alesia into that champion. Eventually, when the time is right, I'll step into her skin and make her my true avatar, the first I've had in over a hundred years. Then I will be a true living God, capable of punishing the wicked pretender. But in order to reach that point, Alesia has to start by slowly conquering the nations of the Empire in order to build up her army. It was her plan to start easy by taking the Gwedric territory through marriage, but since your brother died, well... Anyway, so you see, ultimately it was the Emperor's fault that you had to die."

"Bullshit," said Tamsin.

"Excuse me?!" said Iphrix, standing up.

"Even if I accept your premise that the Duchess has to conquer surrounding territories to eventually take on the Emperor, there must have been some other way she could have taken Gwedric, even with my brother dead," said Tamsin. "Hell, if she had just asked the right way my father might have given up. It's not like we ever could have stood against her in battle."

"Once the marriage contract was broken there was no other choice," said Iphrix. "Imperial law dictates it. And until the time is right, Alesia has no choice but to follow imperial law so that the Emperor won't have an excuse to retaliate against her before she's ready."

"There's no way the law is that rigid," said Tamsin. "And what's more, before I forget about it, has the Duchess actually agreed to become your avatar? You're going to step into her skin? Just take over her body? Isn't that the same thing as killing her? You're going to kill your champion? Is she okay with that?"

"Imperial law has been crafted over the course of a thousand years," said Iphrix, folding her arms. "It doesn't leave a lot of wiggle room. And Alesia's feelings don't much matter in all this. Or have you forgotten I'm a Goddess?"

"Well, that's not fair," said Tamsin. "Even if you're a Goddess, it's wrong to just use someone like that. And I'd bet you anything there was another solution to this whole mess somewhere, if someone had just bothered to look for it."

Iphrix raised an eyebrow. "You'd bet anything, would you?"

Tamsin paused for a moment. She was breathing heavily, which seemed strange to her, since really right now she shouldn't be breathing at all. Perhaps it was just the memory of her nervous disposition in life that was making her react this way.

But as nervous as she felt, she didn't think she was wrong.

"Yes, anything," she said.

"Would you bet your life?" asked Iphrix. Her dark eyes flashed.

Tamsin shifted her feet. "Yes," she said. "Yes, I'd bet my life. What do I have to lose now?"

Not breaking eye contact with Tamsin, Iphrix snapped her fingers again and a door appeared in the middle of the white void. The door opened and a woman walked through, saying "For the Gods' sakes, Ricky, you can't just keep summoning me at a moment's notice like this. Can't you see I'm busy? Thanks in part to you, and—wait, what's this?"

The woman had noticed Tamsin and stopped in her tracks. She looked as though she was from the Eastern continent, far beyond the Empire. She had long dark hair and was dressed in the neat robes of an ancient scholar. Her eyes, like Iphrix's, were dark, empty holes, although she wore a monocle over one of them. Tamsin vaguely wondered to herself if the monocle actually did anything or if it was worn purely for fashion reasons.

"Tamsin of Gwedric," said Iprhix. "Meet Xia, the Goddess of Death."

"Did you call me here to collect this soul?" asked Xia. "Ricky, I can't let people cut in line just because you want them to. She's going to have to wait her turn just like everyone else."

Iphrix shook her head. "That's not why I called you here, Xi."

"Then why did you call me here?" asked Xia. "Make it quick, people are dying every second."

"I called you here to act as a notary," said Iphrix. "After all, if our wager is going to be valid, we'll need a witness."

"What wager?" demanded Xia.

"If this mortal can save her own life... hmm, no, that's too simple." Iphrix approached Tamsin and leaned down until they were eye to eye. "Tell me, little dormouse, just how dedicated are you to your pacifism? Do you believe there is a non-violent solution to everything?"

"Yes, yes of course," answered Tamsin, deciding to double down. "If everyone is just willing to try hard enough."

Iphrix smiled. Tamsin began to feel her confidence waning.

Iprhix stood up straight and turned back to Xia. "If this mortal can save her own life and help Duchess Alesia Jordaine overthrow the Emperor without taking another life, then they both get to live on under their own free will. She will not die and I will not make Alesia my avatar. Does that sound fair to you, little dormouse?"

"Wait, I feel like the terms of this agreement are unclear," said Tamsin. "I have to save my own life? Just from this initial incident, or in general?"

Iprhix rolled her eyes. "Obviously in general. I'll return you to life now and allow you to continue to live your normal lifespan if you win the bet, but I'm not going to just make you immortal. So if you die you obviously lose the bet."

"And who exactly is not allowed to take a life?" asked Tamsin.

"Alesia," said Iphrix.

"So, just to be clear, I'm not allowed to die, and the Duchess isn't allowed to kill anyone," said Tamsin.

"Right," said Iphrix. "So if there's a repeat of today's incident it would mean you failed both aspects of the bet."

"But if I fail either aspect individually I still lose the bet overall?"

"Yes!" said Iphrix. "Stop asking questions!"

Tamsin thought for a moment. "Okay," she said. "I agree to this wager."

"Alright," said Xia, who was taking notes on a scroll using a quill pen. "I've added a clause that states if the mortal tells anyone about the bet, or anything she's seen here, then she automatically loses."

"Ooh, good thinking, Xi," said Iphrix, putting her arm around Xia's shoulders.

Xia shrugged her off. "Both of you, sign here," she said, holding out the scroll.

Iphrix signed first. Her signature was large and swooping and bold. Tamsin signed next. Her handwriting was uncertain, shaky.

"Very well," said Xia, examining the signatures. She rolled up the scroll. "This wager is now binding. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm terribly busy."

She turned to go, but Iphrix placed a hand on her shoulder. "Wait, Xi, before you go..."

Xia rolled her eyes. "This is the real reason you called me here, isn't it?"

"Obviously," said Iphrix. "Turning back time takes a massive amount of power."

"Fine," said Xia. She held out her hand and Iphrix took it.

For a moment, the two goddesses stood there, hand in hand, eyes closed. With their eyes closed you could almost mistake either of them for mortal women.

Then, simultaneously, the Goddess of War and the Goddess of Death each snapped their fingers, and everything went dark.