It has been a thorn beneath her skin for some time now, her brain rolling over that storm-swept day when she’d first met Vespera, and each time the flare of anger in her breast is sharper than the last. She still dreams of the flood waters crashing in as she’d struggled to pull the people of Terrastella to safety -- still remembers when even she, and Marisol, and Asterion had not been enough to save a drowning pegasus, how the cruel river had wrenched the mare from their grasp.

It would be easy to fly to the peak, to let her anger boil over, but --

This is not a journey meant to be easy, and she is not seeking an argument so much as she seeks answers to Vespera’s cruelty. So she places each foot after the other and lets the path take her where it may, winding her way up into the very peak as the sun begins its descent from the sky and begins to paint the sky with vibrant purples and pinks.

“I made you a promise before, Vespera, when I first became part of the Halcyon unit -- that I would serve you until my wings could no longer carry me, and sing your praises until my voice no longer worked, and I promised to protect Terrastella until my last breath.”

She pauses, staring down the shattered statue with fierce, pale eyes, her wings tucked tightly along the curve of her back, and she thinks of a day when she had been so hopeful she had found a home far away from the troubles of Gods.

“What were you truly testing, Vespera? When your Halcyon pilots were risking their lives and limbs to save your people from the floods you had brought upon us -- did we not help enough? Your king was out amongst us, using the magic you gifted him, to help rescue those who needed it -- were you not pleased, by how quickly we responded, how tirelessly we worked?”

I almost died for you, she does not say, biting back the words hard enough that her teeth ache, and you cursed me instead.

Static rolls across her primaries at the thought like the warning rumble of a thundercloud in the distance, and she wants to scream in bitter frustration -- what cruel god would think this power was a gift, when all it did was remind her of the things she had been trying to forget? How could she serve a deity who would throw away her people so easily when they had all rallied so quickly to her defence, to her home?

“You remind me of my father, Vespera -- he liked to play cruel tricks on mortals as well, and he truly believed he was enlightening them. He was wrong, and you were too.”

She thinks her dam had a point, when he had first told her about the Gods -- that they are not to be trusted with the power they had, for it was all too easy for them to abuse it; after all, who governed the gods except for themselves?

For a moment, the mountain is silent. The wind falls still, the birds go into hiding, and all the world seems to hold its breath as it listens to the Champion.

But then the shattered pieces of the statue begin to glow, casting dusky light across the peak, drenching Theodosia in color. The light is not warm; it carries the kiss of winter within it, a chill snap that foretells the goddess’ secret and fearful heart.

With a scraping, creaking sound, the broken stone begins to rearrange itself. Slivers and fragments arise, molding themselves to one another. A small cloud of dust swirling through the air temporarily obscures them from view.

But slowly the dust settles, each piece drifting down to earth. And there, sitting on the cracked shrine, is a vial.

A swirling liquid sits within it: violet, indigo, orange, pink, all the colors of the sunset mixed together.

Perhaps Vespera is listening after all.

@Theodosia has been seemingly answered by her goddess.

If she drinks the mysterious liquid, she will have her choice between one of the following: 1 free Passive Magic OR 1 free Change Magic. Post in the appropriate Restricted Item Redemption thread to claim this prize, linking back to this post as proof.

Theodosia must drink from the vial in an IC reply to claim her prize. If she chooses not to, she will walk away empty handed.

Enjoy!

She had not expected an answer to her prayers.

She had expected silence, and it was silence she had been granted, until she had realized that it was not the same silence of prayers unanswered, of hope dying slowly. It was the quiet air of expectation, of the peace before a storm, and the weight of it almost pulls the breath from her lungs.

Before her, the statue begins to glow in all the colors of the sunset, of the dusk, and it begins to move and mend itself, obscured beneath a cloud of dust. She can only watch, and wait, and wonder what will come of this, if this might be the moment that she has stepped too far across the line into drawing Vespera’s ire.

Instead, she finds a vial waiting for her.

She does not know what Vespera’s answer might mean, whether the liquid inside might be poison or might be a blessing just yet, and she finds herself regarding the vial for a few long moments.

There are yet still differences between Vespera and her father -- he would not have deigned to even acknowledge such complaints, for one -- and the thought makes the barest hint of a smile pull across her lips.

Perhaps she had been wrong, as well, even if she still doesn’t quite understand what Vespera had been trying to prove, when all she had been able to see had been the destruction.

“By Your hand,” She murmurs with a dip of her head, bringing the vial to her lips and drinking the liquid inside.