Goddess Rising

Aria kept a tight grip on Achi’s shoulders. By his stillness, he sensed the warning in her fingers. Tivelo, standing a short distance away, had no such intuition. He watched her as if she was a servant caught wearing his clothes.

“Let him go,” Tivelo said. “And I’ll consider your previous punishment sufficient.”

He could not be very intelligent, Aria thought. How else could he fail to sense the raw fury in her?

“Let him go.” Tivelo enunciated.

Aria met his eyes, held them for a few seconds, and smiled.

A ring of fire sprang to life around her and Achi, close enough that she could feel its heat on her legs. Achi stiffened. Aria, however, embraced the heat. She marveled at how pleasant it felt. Instinctively, she raised its intensity and while Achi began to squirm, she felt herself growing in strength.

She looked at Tivelo again. He seemed so certain of himself; confident, unrepentant. He imagined that she could not harm Achi. Perhaps he thought he was powerful enough to resist. Perhaps he thought that she would listen to that unease, that low thrumming that told her that hurting Achi would be wrong.

She released Achi and he stumbles, deprived of her support. Then, she stepped back, past the flames, and out of the circle, holding Tivelo’s eyes the whole time. Achi glanced from her to his father, confused and uneasy, but he chose the path of caution and remained in the circle.

“Aria -” he said.

Aria ignored him. To Tivelo, she said. “Take him.”

Tivelo paused for a moment, watching her silently. Then his gaze flicked to Achi. The next moment, Achi was gone from the circle and standing beside Tivelo. Neither deity relaxed, however. They kept their eyes on Aria, likely because she gave off the impression of a coiled cobra. For an instant, Tivelo took his eyes off Aria and reached toward Achi and tried to smooth Achi’s hair. Achi stepped out of reach and looked at Aria instead. He opened his mouth, but she had no interest in hearing his words.

Then, he was back in the circle of flames, in the same position he had been previously, with his back to her and his face to his father.

Tivelo tensed. His brow tightened for an instant, as if he was pondering something, then it cleared and he seemed calm again.

Behind Aria, the other deities muttered to each other.

“What am I missing?” Garo asked. “So, she teleported him back?”

No one responded to him..

“Again,” Aria told Tivelo. “Take him. Send him home.”

Tivelo didn’t move. “I don’t play games,” he said. “Release him. Now.”

With one thought, Aria flooded the circle with fire. The little grass within it burned up almost instantly, but the flames did not die. They continued burning, feeding only on air and would do so until she stopped them.

There was little grass in the vicinity, so the dirt itself burned sustained by her own effort. Achi yelped. With no more prompting, he teleported himself out of the flames and back to his father’s side. A moment later, he was back in the flames.

He teleported himself out again and returned, over and over, while Aria held Tivelo’s gaze.

“Aria, please,” Achi begged. He teleported himself out once again, continuing the hopeless effort. His plea tugged at her chest, but it was easy to ignore. She only had to recall her own experience in those flames and her anger formed a shield against everything.

“Please, Aria,” Achi said, “stop this. Let’s talk. You don’t want to do this.”

Tivelo had not moved, but the calm on his face was gone. In its place was rage.

Oh, Aria thought, but you’re not yet as angry as I am. Wait a few years. You’ll learn all the colors of fury.

Tivelo's fists were clenched so tightly that he should have broken his own fingers.

“Won’t you save him?” Aria asked. “I heard that you can do anything for him.”

Something flickered over Tivelo’s face - uncertainty, perhaps. But it was gone too quickly for certainly. The next moment, it morphed into resolve. He shook - with rage or pain - but his eyes showed nothing but blistering, determined fury.

“You can never hope for my pardon,” he said, “but if you do not end this right now, I assure you, you will regret it.”

“Hmm,” Aria rubbed her chin. “I believe that is the longest sentence you have ever spoken to me. What happened to your disdain? Didn’t you wave a hand and sentence Garo? Nod and throw me in prison? Have you sunk low enough that you need to threaten, TIvelo?”

Behind her, Garo spoke loudly enough to hear, his voice a mixture of annoyance and confusion.

“Just put out the fires,” he said. “What is this charade?”

Tivelo remained still, fists still clenched, looking helpless. That confused Aria. She had expected resistance.

“Stop this!”

Achi screamed, and the world froze. Her flames stopped mid-motion, like water frozen suddenly in shape. The next moment, they disappeared leaving a blackened circle in the ground. Achi dropped to his hands and knees, panting and shaking while Tivelo, now at Achi’s side, wrapped him in a blanket.

Achi accepted the blanket for a moment, holding it so close that he could have melted into it. Then, he shoved it and his father away. His eyes turned to Aria. She saw grief in them, disappointment, horror, and tears. Against his accusing stare, Aria lifted her head and held his gaze. He didn’t even understand yet. He only had an inkling of what his father had done to her; what he had let him do.

Achi rose to his feet. He had no injuries - Aria had seen to that - but he still swayed on his feet. Aria knew how he felt: shocked, terrified. He was probably not dreading the next round, but only because he felt sure it would not arrive.

She remembered the shock after her first encounter. But she had spent hours in there. He could count his suffering in minutes.