The Creators Ch. 11

"Fly, Astrid!" a little voice yelled. I looked up, and there was Mistress, looking directly down at me from her booth. "Fly away!" She cried, but the idea of flying away never occurred to me. I would rather die in failure than live as one. I smiled up at her, my god, my unrequited love, and I saw the worry in her face. It was real, and that gave me comfort before the end. I set myself a final time, unfurled my span, and charged. He knew it was coming; he'd seen the last prideful catharsis of the defeated before. He adjusted his stance perfectly, leveled his sword just right, angled his shoulders, and then suddenly went rigid. Tera's knife was in his back, then my sword was in his gut. His once-expressionless face looked comically surprised, then it rolled off his shoulders with my backhanded swipe, and bounced into the sand. Tera and I stared at each other over the spurting neck between us. She'd been working the edge of the arena, limping as though on the verge of succumbing to blood loss, then she'd waltzed up to Skull while I did my suicidal charge, and stabbed him in the back. It was so absurdly easy that I could hardly believe it happened, nor could the crowd, and nor could Tera herself. She stared wide-eyed at the headless corpse between us, then she giggled, then I giggled, and the stadium erupted.

WILLLOWBUD

"Yes! Yes! YES!" I laughed, jumping up and down in my booth. Sister Julia smiled thinly at me, obviously disappointed in the outcome. I whooped and hollered in her face, pelvic thrusted at her, grabbed my nuts and gave them a taunting squeeze. "Suck on that, bitch!"

"Congratulations," Sister Julia replied, trying to conceal her irritation. Why she wanted Astrid to lose was beyond me, but the fact that she'd been foiled only made the victory sweeter. The roar of the crowd swelled all around us, filling the night air with its thunder. On the sands of the arena, Astrid held her sword high. Her face shined with joy, her eyes glistened with it, and she laughed and smiled wondrously at the stands stretching above. She turned toward me, and levelled her sword in salute. I blew her a kiss, and she caught it, and placed it against her own lips. My champion, basking in her moment of glory, and she wanted to share it with me.

"Go to her, Willowbud," Sister Julia said softly. In the moment, I didn't even register that it was the first time she'd called me by my name. I rushed out of the box, scrambled down the hall, flung open the prep room door, and nearly collided with a serving girl in my haste. I hurriedly said my apologies, sprinted for the dugout door, then stopped. I turned around, and my blood went cold.

"Hey, Willow," Mom smiled.

ASTRID

"Astrid, get down!" Tera's voice screamed. I barely had a second to turn around before I was hurled off my feet, and plowed into the sand. Gravel cut at my cheek, my arm twisted beneath my weight, my sword shot from my hand, and my mother's face showed inches from my own, twisted in rage.

"I will not desecrate my flesh, for it is the armor of which I was born," Mother growled, delivering a vicious punch to my wounded ribs. I coughed my pain and shock into her face, my eyes wide, not believing what I was seeing.

"I will kill only when needed, and will do so without passion, for death is a joyless thing," another growl, and another shot to the ribs. Reality was starting to focus in my mind; the gasps of the crowd, the sand on my face, my mother's breath in my nostrils and her fist in my side.

"I will not seek glory, for it is not mine to have!" Mother growled again, her fist raising. "These are the codes of my—" I grabbed my mother about the waist, pivoted my heels into the dirt, and spun us over. She lashed out at me, and I deftly leaned back to dodge the fist that would've dislocated my jaw. She took the opportunity to plant her feet against my chest, and kicked. I shot backward, caught the wind in my wings, and landed on my feet as Mother climbed to hers.

"Mother?" I gasped, instinctively squaring my shoulders. "What are you doing here?!"

"Correcting my mistake," Mother spat, knees bending and fists raising.

"Mother," I said, matching her steps and circling with her, not giving her an opening, "if you'll listen to me, I can explain—"

"I know all about Willowbud," Mother snarled. "I know about her, and you, and Corruption."

I stuttered to a stop, dropping my defenses and staring at her in disbelief.

"If you know about that," I said, letting her circle to my flank, "then you must know why I'm doing this. How can you blame me for serving my god? How can you blame me for breaking my oaths, when I'm beholden to the laws of a higher power?"

"I don't blame you for breaking your oaths," Mother growled, circling behind me, "I blame you for breaking them with such relish. When I heard what you'd been forced to do, I assumed you must be suffering greatly. Never had it crossed my mind that you'd be so happy to cast your honor away!"

"You don't know what you're talking about," I snarled back.

"Oh, I don't?" Mother yelled. "You came from my womb, Astrid. You were always so eager to be the best, to prove yourself right, to seek your own glory. You gave our oaths the lip-service you felt they deserved, and then broke them the moment they inconvenienced you."

"You don't know me half as well as you think, Mother," I spat, hot anger simmering in my belly. "If you did, then this sword would still be on your back!"

"That sword you so contemptuously wave in the air?" Mother yelled. "The symbol of a people you've disgraced?"

"The symbol of my victory over you," I smiled, "the symbol of a defeat you couldn't stomach."

"There's that pride," Mother laughed, lips curling in a sneer, "that arrogance that kept you from becoming High Guard even after you'd earned the title. Is that why you flew away, Astrid? Because you felt you deserved something that wasn't given to you? Because you were too impatient to learn patience?!"

"I flew away," I growled, feeling my fists clench, "because I was tired of listening to the prattle of an old bitch who couldn't accept that her time was done."

"Ha!" Mother laughed again, posture leaning forward, wings flexing threateningly. "And where did that get you, you insolent, little girl?"

"The highest honor a winged-warrior can gain!" I shot back, matching my mother's gait. "Protector of our matron god, while you wilt away in obscurity where you belong."

"Protector?" Mother screamed. "You're her whore!"

"I am so far above you, old woman," I laughed, blood thumping in my eyes. "If I am the whore of a Creator, then you are the dirt beneath my heel."

"You have forsaken everything I've given you," Mother said, her voice strained. "I always knew you were ambitious, but I never believed you were traitorous."

"All I hear from you is jealousy," I snarled, my lips peeling back, my teeth barred.

"All I feel for you is pity," Mother replied, reaching for her axe.

"You will feel pain."

Mother had her axe out a second after I'd picked up the sword. She was getting slower. I launched forward, folding my wings around me and corkscrewing through the air, my body spinning like a rifled shot with the blade acting as the tip. I aimed for Mother's hilt, attempting to sever the axe from the shaft, but she smacked the attack away and delivered an elbow to the crown of my head. It dazed me for a moment, and I careened into the ground, feeling every sharp rock and piece of gravel scraping against my exposed thighs. The crowd roared their approval at my failure, and I felt my wrath grow from a simmer, to a boil. She would not take them from me, not after what I'd done to win them! I flipped onto my feet just in time to hear Mother's axe sing past me, and bury into the sand where my head had been. There was a still moment where our eyes connected; mine wide with shock, hers narrowed in grim determination. Mother wasn't dueling; Mother was fighting to kill.

WILLOWBUD

She approached me cautiously, one foot in line with the other, her hands held before her like I was a wild beast. She was greener than I remembered, her hair a deeper shade of turquois, and her horns so large they seemed to weigh on her neck. She stopped right in front of me, her pine-green eyes level with mine, staring without fear into the black depths of my own.

"You're a woman now," Mom laughed. "Great Giver, you're a beauty." She dared a touch on my cheek, and I let her fingers outline the bow of it.

"Why?" I asked, my voice a low, cold sound.

"That's a very open-ended question, Willow," Mom laughed again.

"Why are you here?"

"Julia asked me to come," Mom said softly, playing her hand through my hair, "but that's not why I did it."

"Tell me."

Mom continued to run her hands through my hair, her fingers sliding against my scalp, the tips brushing gently along the roots. I remembered that feeling. I remembered her voice in my ear, soft and beautiful, singing wordless lullabies that echoed pleasantly in my mind. Safety and love. Mom hummed those soft melodies now, those caresses for my soul, and I sought the primal comfort of her. My head found the swell of her breast, my arms surrounded her, and I made myself small in her embrace. She rested her chin atop my head, ran her fingers through my hair, and pulled me closer, rocking back and forth on her heels.

"Please tell me why you're here," I said softly.

"Because you need me," Mom answered with equal softness.

"I needed you a long time ago," I whispered.

"I know," Mom whispered back, "but I'm here now, Willow."

"Why didn't you want me?" I asked into her bosom. Mom stroked my hair, easing us down into a chair. I lifted my legs and brought my knees to my chest, balling myself into her lap, confused as to why it didn't feel like it should. Because I was a woman now, of course. Willowbud remembered being small enough to fit here, but Night Eyes had no recollection of growing too large for it. Or too old for it. This was still Willowbud's Mommy, just like Dad had still been her Daddy. I knew why Sister Julia had brought her to me, and I hated her for it.

"I wanted you," Mom finally whispered, her voice choking with tears, "I loved you more than anything, and that's why I had to let you go."

"You thought I was a freak."

"I was angry," Mom's breath shuddered against my crown, "but not at you; for you. I was supposed to be pure of my father's filth, but Passion had missed a piece of him lurking in me. It's our hair, Willow; it's incubus hair. But that's not why I sent you away." Mom swallowed hard; her heart was beating chaotically against my cheek. "My mother was infertile. She told no one, as infertility denies the right to matronage. She carried an incubus's seed because it was the only kind that would sprout in her womb. When I was older, I came to realize that I had inherited her curse. But I wouldn't need to take an incubus to bed; I'd already been promised a child." Mom's tears wet my cheeks, her breaths were heavy, her heart was a drum against my temple. "She came to me when I was young," Mom's voice was barely air, "and she told me she would give me you, Willow. She told me I could only have one child, but that child would be a god." Mom pulled me close against her breast, her arms squeezing my head near to pain. "You lived as an idea in my mind hundreds of years before you nursed from my breast, and I loved that idea of you. When I saw that expectation had not been realized, I was enraged. You were supposed to be perfect."

"What are you saying?" I looked up at my mother, her face wet, her eyes red.

"I was promised you and Arbortus, and for that promise, I had to make one in exchange," Mom's breath was raspy. "I had to give you to her."

ASTRID

I rounded on Mother, sweeping for her legs, twirling with the momentum, blocking her axe behind my back and then cutting diagonally with the next strike, bringing the sword across my body. Mother's motions matched my fluidity, each strike flowing to the next, each arc of her axe a continuation of the last. Our blades sung their collisions and exploded their sparks as our bodies spun in a dizzying dance, wings unfurling to catch the air, allowing us to move with inhuman speed. I swept at Mother's legs, anticipated her jump, then I spun, caught another attack behind my back, and stabbed instead of sliced. Mother caught my blade under the crook of her own, twirled her body about the two-handed hold of her axe, and flung the weapon from my hands. My gauntleted fist met her face, and I felt teeth cracking beneath my knuckles as I followed through. She staggered back, blood spilling from her mouth, axe sweeping defensively about her feet. I spread my wings and darted across the arena, clasped my hand about the sword that swayed in its stuck position, and reeled around with it just in time to catch Mother's strike. She recoiled from the blow, and I shouldered her in the chest, sending her sprawling. Her wings unfurled before she hit the ground, and she righted herself, letting her feet slide as her momentum carried her across the sand to a grinding stop. She breathed heavy sputtering breaths as I passed calm air through my clenched teeth. The old cunt didn't have much longer.

"Corruption is your god!" Mother yelled. "You are no protector of our matron; you're the servant of a Sentient!"

"Corruption has shown my god the true path!" I screamed back. "Your archaic oaths are worthless! The gods decide what is just, and my god has been enlightened with the truth of Sentients!"

"They tell nothing but lies!" Mother yelled, positioning her axe.

"I embrace her lies over your truth, you relic!" I laughed. "I will kill because it pleases me, I will fuck because I desire it, and I will live my life in glory, free of the chain you would have bind me!"

"Do you moan when the men ravage you?" Mother jeered. "Do you beg for more when they're done?"

"I do," I grinned, displaying manic mirth, "and I will hear you beg before this is done."

WILLOWBUD

"You gave me to Corruption?" I asked her. I didn't know what I was feeling. It was an aching in my chest, like my heart was too heavy to rest in the cavity.

"She gave me you," Mom smiled tearfully, "But when I had to pay her, I couldn't do it." Mom cupped my wet cheek. "So I sent you away. Passion told me that Corruption would only seek you if you were the heir to power, so I disowned you, and banished you. Then your boat sank, and I nearly threw myself from the canopy. I was made arch-matriarch, I was given the kingdom I'd sought, but none of it mattered. You were dead. And then, you weren't."

"But I am, Mom," I said quietly. "I died on that boat to Tentigo, and then I died a little more on the streets of Drastin. I died little by little, day by day, until Corruption finally had her corpse."

"No," Mom whispered, running her hand to my temple, "you're still in there," she pulled off my astral meld, revealing the true color of my eyes, "and you're fighting to get out. You just need a little help."

"You can't help me."

"I can try," Mom tilted my chin upward, eyes glimmering into mine. "I should've taken your father and left Arbortus with you. We could've lived together in Tentigo, and we could've fought her together when she came. I failed you, but I'm here now. Tell me what I need to do to help you."

I actually giggled. My face was wet with tears, my chest was laden with grief, but it was funny. I'd been predestined by Corruption hundreds of years before I was born. In a way, she was more my mother than Mom was. All my life I'd blamed Flora Autumnsong for what had happened to me, but even then, I hadn't been giving her enough credit. Mom didn't inquire about my mirthful outburst, but just kept running her hand through my hair, pulling it behind my ears. I rotated in her lap, shifting slowly, staring into her eyes. I touched my foot to the stones between my mother's leg, and I listened to the tremors of the rock. Sister Julia was on the other side of the door, her ear pressed to the panel. I knew what she wanted me to do, and I was going to do it. But not for her; for me.

"Daddy already tried to help me," I grinned up at Mom.

"What?!" Mom hissed, suddenly growing tense.

"He found me out here in the wild," I grinned, sliding my hands down her legs, "but I wasn't his little girl anymore."

I grabbed my mother's knees, and forced them apart.

ASTRID

I spread my wings and launched head-first, and Mother did the same. Her axe swung like a pendulum beneath her, and my sword sheered along its head, skipped down the handle, and cut deeply into her forearm. I heard her grunt of pain fade as we flew past each other, and saw the droplets of blood trailing on the sand behind her. I whirled around, arcing through the air like a stalking eagle, and spotted Mother soaring above me in a curved pattern, only one hand clutching her axe. I searched her face for a sign of fear, for acknowledgment that she knew she was bested, but I didn't find it, and it enraged me. This bitch would never give me the credit I deserved, even when I'd carved it from her own flesh! I gritted my teeth and launched after her, and she dove to meet me, axe raised above her, mouth screaming her war cry. She had the right angle, she had the better reach, she had the downward momentum, but it didn't matter. I was an arrow fired from the depths of hell, and she was a falling leaf; old, fragile, and slow, drifting from the sky in the autumn of her life. Her scream became louder and higher as she dove, her axe-head glinted in the moonlight, her wrath was painted across her face. I narrowed my eyes against the rushing wind, closed my wings against my body, and spiraled upward, accelerating faster than Mother could react. Her scream cut in her throat, her chest met the hilt of my blade with a thud, her eyes widened, and her fingers loosened, dropping the axe behind her. We hung in the air for a static moment where my eyes met hers, and the enormity of what I'd just done hit me.

"Mother?" I gasped. She mouthed silently, her bulging eyes trembling and bloodshot, welling with tears. Blood dripped from her lips, a gurgle crawled from her throat, and we fell. My sword slid from her, leaving a floating trail in her wake that splashed my face as I pursued her. She wasn't dead yet; Brandon could still save her! I reached for her, caught her shoulder strap, and opened my wings. I caught the wind, her strap snapped in my hand, and she plummeted beneath me. She screamed something as she fell, but the rushing wind stole her last words from my ears. Her wings spread to their full span, the brilliant white catching the pale moonlight, and she hit the sand with a sickening thud. A ring of dust rippled from her broken form, and she lay still, her eyes staring up at me, then up at nothing. I glided into the stadium after her, my ears filling with a chorus of the monster's song, sung higher and louder than it ever had before. What a show, what a show. It's all for you. Everything for you.

LUCILLA

I gawked at what I saw. Freydis was dead on the sand, Astrid was standing over her, and Tera was missing a hand, and the one she still had was pressed to her mouth above wide, disbelieving eyes. The crowd stood above me and around me, cheering a performance that would live in legend, but Astrid didn't seem to care for their adulation. She just stood over her broken mother, and stared, silent tears running down her cheeks. This was my fault. I'd put this in motion, and when I'd finally come to reason, it was too late. Too late.

I pushed through the crowd, past the line of elvish guards who stood confusedly in front of Willowbud's box. They raised their hands in objection, but one look from me put their objections to rest. The box was empty when I got to it. There was a half-finished champagne bottle, and only one used glass. I guessed Julia wasn't in a celebratory mood. I didn't know why she'd come here at all, or why she'd insisted that I not come. If only I had pressed harder, Freydis might still be alive. Too late.