#the bringer of doom... in all his terrifying glory...

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

For want of a flower

Iz came upon the spirit-vale to find it destroyed. The wooden tree houses were burned to a crisp, and ectoplasm, flesh of the twice-dead, soaked the soft grass. The reek of war, death and fire made her sick. 

It was obvious, she realised, that the Godhuntress had no plans to enslave the spirits. She wanted them all dead. Their corpses, translucent and childlike, piled up in corners, lovers clutching each other as they were massacred, warriors standing guard over the weak and innocent.

She stood in the clearing, the only soul save for a lone squirrel. The smouldering ruins seemed to mock her, laughing at her incompetence. What if she had come a week earlier? What if she had not dallied, had not gotten lost in the dense woods where the spirits made their home?

The spirits were a secretive group, lurking within the trees of the Celitane Forest. They had no love of humans, but neither did they care for the Gods. Yet Iz knew, deep in her bones, that the Godhuntress would come for them next.

And she has been right. Too right. Iz's fingers hunted for the thrill of magic amongst the masses of wrecked souls, the tell of a surviving spirit. "Damn it all," she muttered angrily. "Is anyone out there?

"Leave us be!" The shout was a boy's, defiant and terrified. Iz turned, ready to yell a reassurance, but a thought struck her.

What if the child was not yelling at her? The corpses were so fresh — Was the Godhuntress still there?

The notion struck fear in her heart. Her mot- mortal enemy, lurking just inches away from her. Iz crept towards the voice, pulling out her fateful arrow and slotting it into the shelf of her bow. 

She rounded a corner to find two children clutching each other, a boy and a girl, skin as translucent as frosted glass. The girl was a ghost, doomed as a child to never grow to adulthood. The boy, she suspected, was a spirit. 

He certainly was spirited, holding himself to the fore to protect his friend. His pale eyes held the same ferocity that possessed trapped rodents, and his lips were pulled back to reveal sharp canines. They were caught in a cage of fire, unable to flee without being burnt to a crisp. "Back off! Do you not know who I am? I am the ruler of this clan, and you have intruded upon my territory," he yelled in futile rage.

"I am not here for you, fool boy," the Godhuntress laughed. She loomed over them, blood-red braids whipping in the air, wings spread like a harpy death-bringer. "Surrender the girl, and I shall let you live."

"She is my vassal, and I am soul-sworn to defend her! You will have to kill me before I allow you to take her," he snapped back.

"She is the Goddess of Dreams, boy, and a being infinitely more powerful than you. Did you know that, when you took her in? She lied to you and used you," The Godhuntress told him mockingly. "Did you know that you were nothing more than a scrap compared to her glory? A wingless fly to her eagle?"

From the look of anguish on his face, the spirit boy did not know. He looked at the girl in betrayal. She shook her head frantically, hissing something to him, trying to pull herself away from his desperate clinging. Iz drew her now back, aiming carefully at the Godhuntress.

His face hardened. "I did not know, and I do not care. She is my vassal. I am sworn to protect her, in sickness or in health, in power or in weakness, in life or in death! You will have to claw my cold, dead, broken body from hers!" His voice cracked at that last sentence. He took a deep breath and steadied himself. "I, too, am a god. Will you not take me instead?"

"Stupid, stupid weakling of a boy. You're not even worth the blade I would kill you with. I might let you live, as an example of what happens to those who disobey me. Step aside now, and live. Or die like the rat you are," the Godhuntress warned, raising her sword.

"Hans! Let me go! Listen, it's okay," the girl murmured. "It'll be okay. You helped me all those years, Hans-el. You took me in, a strange ghost arriving on your doorstep one day. You gave me a life worth living. Consider this the repayment of my fealty." She hugged him tightly, and pulled herself away.

"Don't you dare!" The boy clawed at her desperately. "Berry, as your liege, I demand you stay here! You saved my life all those years ago. 'Tis I who owe you the world, and I will repay my debts, no matter the cost." Iz took a deep breath, steadying her aim. She only had one chance at it.

"She will kill you," the girl said with grim certainty. "And then she will take me and kill me too. And I will not allow that to happen, because I-"

Iz loosed her arrow, and it slammed into the Godhuntress' head. Blood blossomed from the wound, and she fell to her knees. For a moment, Iz could almost believe that she had felled the Godhuntress. 

Then she turned around. "You," she snarled, the word filled with ire. "You have challenged time and time again. You truly think yourself capable of stopping me with a mere arrow? You are a fool, then, as well as a traitor." Her eyes, red like glowing ash, gleamed with bloodlust. 

"Mother," Iz said, spitting the words out like a curse, "It is you who are the fool, and the traitor. Look at what you are doing. Our people were made to protect others. They are children, Mother. Children. Does that word not mean anything to you?"

The Godhuntress regarded her with cold fury. "They are a goddess and her servant," she replied, ignoring the boy's yelp of indignance. "And they are standing in the way of our liberation. For millennia, our people have been enslaved by these _gods_, and the other immortals have turned a blind eye. They sang songs in our praise, pretending that we were selfless philanthropists, rather than tormented slaves. Angels, they called us, and feigned ignorance to our agony. Is it not fair that we get revenge, daughter?"

Iz looked away, unable to respond. "They tore your wings away for befriending a Fae, daughter. They corrupted your soul and threw you down to mortality. How could you still support these monsters that style themselves deities? Is it not fair for our people to be free, and for them to be subjugated?" 

That Iz had an answer to. "No, Mother. The blood of innocents will not heal the wounds we have been dealt. Massacre will not return me my wings. Revenge will not bring peace to those who have suffered." 

"They treated us like animals! They ripped every hope and dream out of our people and played with us like toys! I will not rest— I will never rest until my people are restored to their former glory. I will never rest until I have made them pay for every indignity we suffered. I will never rest until every being that has wronged us has felt our pain," she said, daring Iz to defy her.

Iz stared at her with pity. "Mother, the gods are all dead. The Fae have fallen. The Spirits are shattered and scattered. Everyone who has harmed our people is long gone. Let Vengeance leave you. You have achieved your goal, and none will ever seek to harm our people again." She reached out with one hand.

"No! My work is not done. I must build a Haven for the Angels, and then I must secure it," the Godhuntress said, wenching herself away from Iz.

"Mother," Iz said, patience seeping out of her body, leaving sick, pained sadness in its wake. "You will build Heaven for our people out of the blood of others. You will secure it in the screams and deaths of the innocent, Mother. And they will remember you as a monster. Does it not concern you that they call you the Godhuntress, rather than the Guardian Angel?"

The Godhuntress paused, and Iz knew she had found a weak point. "They see your reign as drenched in blood, a mere continuation of the evils the gods perpetrated. The only way to stop this cycle is to find peace. You need to stop," Iz said. " 'Tis not too late, Mother. Take my hand, and we can make this better."

They looked into each other's eyes, and for a heartbeat Iz believed that it would all work out. Then the Godhuntress turned away. "My name is Ina. Do not call me your mother again, Isobel, for no daughter of mine would stand between me and a better world for mine."

Iz's breath caught in her throat. "Mo- Ina, please, do not do this. Your hands are already steeped in blood. Do not steel your heart in ice."

The Godhuntress laughed. "My heart? Ice? I have no heart, girl. You ripped it out of my chest when you turned on me. Now, put that bow down and leave, and pray I do not hunt you."

Iz did not move. "I will not move, Godhuntress," she said, though her heart ached. "I have a duty to fulfil."

"A duty to who? It certainly was not to the one who birthed you," Ina scoffed.

"Indeed, it was to my mother," Iz said. "To the woman who defended the innocent, who did not blame children for the cruelty of their predecessors. To the hero of the Celestials. I swore to her that if she ever lost sight of her path, I would bring her back to the light, and uphold her wish to protect the innocent." She took a deep breath and pulled out a sword from her belt. "And if my words will not sway you, perhaps my blade will." 

The weapon was a falchion, crafted from the metal of the Void, sharp enough to carve through steel and immune to magic. It was Iz's last hope of dissuading the Godhuntress, obtained at great cost. 

"So you show your true colours," the Godhuntress snarled. "Brute." Her sword was out of its sheath in a heartbeat, and the duel was on.

Behind them, completely unnoticed, the girl said, "I love thee, Hans. And that is why I cannot let you sacrifice yourself for naught." Gently, she pressed two fingers to his forehead. "Sleep, my liege. Let at least one of us live happily ever after." As the boy slumped, she planted a kiss on his cheek. "May you come to rule the world someday."

She got to her feet unsteadily, watching the duel in front of her. Iz was fast, faster than she thought possible, but the Godhuntress had parried every attack and then some. It was going to come down to who was willing to kill the other, she realised sadly. And the Godhuntress would kill anyone.

"Godhuntress! Let us settle our dispute like warriors. Face me in single combat!" The words escaped her lips in a yell.

The Godhuntress spun around, deflecting a final blow from Iz, then disengaging. Her lips spread into a grim smile. "So, you will die honourably, little goddess? Very well, then." With a flick of her wrist, the flames were dispelled, and the girl stepped through. 

She was small, and scared, but she knew what she had to do. Berry fetched a stick, just big enough for her to wield. She shook so much she could barely stand. "Ready," she said, though she was not.

The Godhuntress grinned. "Then it is time for you to die," she told the girl. 

This was less of a battle and more of a massacre. Iz could not stand by and watch the girl's painful attempts to ward off the Godhuntress' attacks. She was playing with the girl, Iz thought. She was distracted, overconfident. Iz had a shot at it. This time, she could not hesitate. This time, she could not pull her punch.

Iz gripped her falchion with white knuckles, waiting for the Godhuntress to turn her back to her. Then she charged. Her feet hit the floor silently, the world holding its breath as time tiptoed around that fateful moment. 

Quick as a flash, the Godhuntress' blade embedded itself in Iz's chest. "Fool girl," she said. "You thought I did not know you would try this?" Iz let out a choking rattle and spat out a thick clot of blood. "Any last words for me?"

Iz met her mother's gaze, held it with impenetrable emotion. "Forgive me, mother, for failing in my duty," she croaked, not bothering to push her guts back into her body. Blood pooled around her body. With her last breath, wracked with incredible agony, she said, "I wish I could have saved you."

The Godhuntress watched the lifeblood seep out of her dispassionately. As Iz let out a final sigh, she leaned down and retrieved her sword. Turning to the girl, she said, "Shall we continue?"

The girl stared at her in horror. "She was your daughter. Why would you kill her?" Her voice quavered.

"I killed her because she stood in my way," the Godhuntress said. "Just as I will kill you."

"And that's it? You will kill me simply because I was born into power? Though I have harmed none?" The girl clenched her twig-staff to her chest. "You're scum, Godhuntress. Worse than the beings you hunt."

"I have given you exactly what you gave me: the smallest of mercies. I will let your little boy live, and I will grant you a quick death, for you have not harmed me or mine," the Godhuntress said coldly. She raised her sword.

The girl turned to the boy, who slept peacefully. "You promise not to hurt him?"

"Yes."

"Alright then," she said, not turning around. "Can you do it without telling me? I- I do not think I can…" She trailed off, unsure. "I am scared. I have died once, when I thought the world would never be kind or warm. Then I was proven wrong. I… I love, loved, will always love this life. I do not wish to lose it. I am not ready to die." 

She began to turn around, then stopped herself. "Are you still there? Are you listening? Will it hurt?"

The Godhuntress said nothing, only sweeped her sword in a powerful arc.