𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐞

36 | Memento Mori

[WARNING: There's some rather graphic gore towards the end. In honor of the latest Archon Quest, I'm really trying to get more into the darker themes of Juno's life. This was never going to be a very happy story after all.]

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"There are cemeteries that are lonely,

graves full of bones that do not make a sound,the heart moving through a tunnel,in it darkness, darkness, darkness,like a shipwreck we die going into ourselves,as though we were drowning inside our hearts,as though we lived falling out of the skin into the soul.
And there are corpses,feet made of cold and sticky clay,death is inside the bones,like a barking where there are no dogs,coming out from bells somewhere, from graves somewhere,growing in the damp air like tears of rain."

- An excerpt from "Nothing But Death" by Pablo Neruda

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

For a long time, I believed the line between the good and evil of this plane was stark, bold, that good and evil were as different as ying and yang. Oh, how wrong I was. For all the years I'd lived, it seemed wisdom was still in limited capacity. I am a God, I am an Immortal, I am a being of incomprehensible power, and yet... I am so weak. So, so very weak. It felt unfortunate, or maybe a better word would be pitiful.

I stared out at the town from my window, the cursed scent of blood clung to the air—cloying and damning in all its cursed glory. A knife hangs loosely in my right hand. Rhea, blinded. Thyestes, deafened. Atreus, muted. I rubbed my clean hand down my face. I hadn't killed them, I'd punished them, yes, and healed their wounds afterward. I could restore their senses if I so desired, but I hadn't.

Turning away from the window, I went to clean the blood off the knife. It's a short, but meticulous process—water, an old towel, and oil. Blood is basically just sticky salt water; it rinses off steel particularly easily. The knife sat heavy and damning in my palm as if it were sapient and knew what I'd done. I slid it back into my knife block before turning to survey the blood that had been spilled on my hardwood floors. Well, I supposed I'd better hunt Hercules down and then fix the problem with the rumblings as I cleaned up all of this...gore.

It didn't take long to clean since the blood was still rather fresh, though I did end up having to rid myself of my liturgical vestments as they'd been stained in the process. I could always make myself some more. I had gotten quite good at making clothes after having to make my own for thousands of years. With that out of the way, I left the house, secured my door, and began my walk back to the town center.

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Rhea, Atreus, and Thyestes had long disappeared back to their homes, but it was nearing midday in Teyvat Standard Time, or well... I checked my watch. Prophis was about an hour behind TST, so it was nearing one in the afternoon. I had since changed clothes to something more suitable for walking around in the chilly air of Prophis.

Snow had just begun to fall, sticking to the stone houses and roads and beginning to add that delightful crunch to my footsteps. There were more people out and about now, bartering and exchanging information with each other. The indoor pools and spas were starting to get busy. They never failed to get slammed around this time of day.