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You are a traitor.
Vora feels betrayed. There is no words to describe the anger that settles in the pit of her belly as she looks around the battlefield — (it should have never been one. It was a place of worship and reverence).
Even after the Magistrate and Resistance had receded, limping their way back to where they came from, all that is left is death. Death at her feet, lain across the place she thought of as home (they were meant to be safe. Oh how foolish they were). Death stares back at her, as the broken bodies of those she considered her family remain there — motionless, still. Not a wind picks up in the Shattered Desert. And the heavy, deafening silence makes her blood boil.
You abandoned us.
Vora takes in a ragged breath, lets her fingers grip her scythe's handle until her knuckles turn white and the hold starts to hurt. She welcomes in the pain, letting it ground her in the now, afraid she will lose herself to the grief that keeps her chest cold and hollow.
We defended you. Why couldn't you do the same?
She moves past the bodies strewn around, keeps her gaze up, fleeting between the path ahead of her and the moon that hangs up high, as shattered as she feels. Vora feels betrayed. It burns through her veins, making an itch in the back of her throat start. And she swears she won't cry, won't be weak.
You left us. Didn't hear our pleas.
They had called out to their Goddess. Even as they had all fought to the best of their abilities, they had hoped the Goddess would return. That she would show up and push back against their assailants.
We were cheated.
Had they all not devoted part of their lives to serve the Moon Goddess? All that time, love and devotion felt bitter now. Vora's breath picks up, as her thoughts swirl around her head, heavy and bitter and painful and—
We served you! And you betrayed us, Goddess.
She blinks back tears, moves closer to the seal they had been protecting for years. Years of servitude. Years they wouldn't have back. Years they wouldn't see, not now that death had claimed their lives.
"Curse you, Io." Vora spits out, letting her pain well up on her words. "Curse the day we decided to serve you."
They had all been made fools.
No matter the amount of blood that kept being spilled, Io hadn't showed up. The moon's light seems dull now, and its light doesn't rouse hope within Vora, as it once had. Vora looks down to the seal, thinking about the Darkness sealed. She feels it, faintly, a call and desire that urges her to lift the seal. To release that which had once beat the Moon Goddess. To release the power that could have helped them, perhaps...
We can help.
Vora startles at the voice that sounds in her head, foreign to her own thoughts. She looks around, scythe ready, as she expect an enemy to appear. Their martial order might be death, but Vora would fight, she wouldn't back down. She had nothing else to lose, after all. Her life felt like a joke with the Moon Goddess' absence.
We can help you gain power.
The voice speaks to her mind, and Vora's eyes search frantically for a figure that isn't there.
"Who are you?!" She asks to the empty night, and her pain is forgotten for a second, frustration settling in.
I've been mocked enough tonight.
We are the Maw. The Darkness you've kept at bay.
There's a conflicting response to that answer. Vora's unsure what to feel. Did this mean the seal had broken? That their efforts had been for naught in the end? She wants to laugh at the thought; so pitiful and futile were their efforts that even this Darkness they had sworn to keep sealed had somehow found a crack.
Were we worthless?
The thought burns in her mind, and she wants to scream.
You betrayed us. You traitor. You liar. You doomed us all, Goddess.
They had been abandoned, no doubt, seeing as the Darkness itself was now speaking to Vora. The Darkness which had offered Vora power not a minute ago. Had they all been ignorant, then, refusing that which could have helped them from the very beginning to protect themselves, to protect the Shattered Desert. Perhaps it was that Io's teachings had been wrong all along. Perhaps they had all been blinded by hope and faith, ignorant to the potential of the Darkness. Well, Vora was not to be made a fool again, that much she was sure of. And she couldn't come to trust something bigger than herself after such recent betrayal.
We won't betray you. You will be granted power. Do you not seek revenge against the light that abandoned you?
Revenge. That had a nice ring to it. She no doubt wished to retaliate against the Goddess, and against the Realm that had abandoned them all. With a burning desire, she wished for—
"I want the Moon Goddess to repent for her sins."
Yes. She wanted Io to see what had transpired in her absence, what had happened while she cowered away, while she ignored their pleas— what had happened while she ignored them. And above all, Vora wanted Io to suffer what they had been through. She wanted Io to feel the loss and the death, to taste the aftertaste of defeat, the bitterness of being abandoned and left for death. Vora felt betrayed, and she wanted Io to feel it, too. Because nothing had left such a hollow feeling within her as this betrayal did. Nothing had hurt her more than the realization that they had been abandoned.
We can help. Show your Goddess that you don't need her.
The teachings that had been hammered into her mind years ago tell her to refuse the offer. That this is a trap, a play from the Darkness to be freed and let loose. That destruction will follow if Vora gives in. But all the teachings she had learnt seem unimportant, now that the order is death. Now that the only one to defend this seal is Vora herself. It lays on her hands to decide, and the weight of such notion makes her elated. She could have the power, a power of her own. She could take it upon herself to make the Realm pay for their disrespect. Vora could —she would, of that she would make sure of— make the Magistrate pay, all she had to do was break the seal. The idea tempts her.
You can be greater than that. We can bring change.
Yes. Change to this rotten Realm that saw only for itself. If it was the Realm's path to find its own annihilation through its own avarice, Vora doesn't see why she should stop it. The Darkness would help, she knew that much. Not only would Magistrate and Resistance see for their wrongdoings, but the whole Realm, if Vora had a say.
Won't you be a harbinger of it? Of bringing this Realm to its end?
What did she have to lose, anyway?
"You promise me power?" Vora asks, finding a spark of hope within her again, thinking back to the chants needed to break the seal.
You will have what you need to achieve your revenge.
A small smile tugs at Vora's lips, and for once she sees a clear path for herself. She leaves her scythe on the side, and kneels close to the seal.
You betrayed us, Goddess. It's only fair I do the same.
"We shall herald a new era, then."