Ashes of Betrayal,A Fallen Goddess's Vengeance

When I returned to the sect from my travels, all I found of my master was a heap of ruined flesh.

Every bone in his body was gone. My senior brothers and sisters were nowhere to be found.

The Matron Acevedo sat before his corpse, her aged voice calling out to me.

"Lynara, your master traded his life for every disciple's ascension. You should go report to the divine realm too."

Only then did I learn the truth. The Sovereign of the Heavens, ruler of all realms, had needed immortal bones to forge a celestial body for his mortal wife. He'd chosen my master, the one with the strongest spiritual affinity.

In exchange for allowing every disciple of the Dawnveil Sect to ascend, he had ripped every bone and sinew from my master's body.

I've had a flaw for as long as I can remember. I don't cry. I don't laugh. The whole sect called me cold-blooded.

Now, staring at the mangled remains of the man who had saved my life and raised me as his own daughter, I was still calm.

"Matron, did Master agree to this willingly?"

Her eyes reddened instantly.

"Aldric Voss is the last god in existence. What he says goes. We never had a choice."

I gave a quiet "oh."

"If Master didn't agree to it willingly, then Aldric Voss deserves to die."

The Matron seized my arm, her voice tight with worry. "Lynara, before your master drew his last breath, he told all of you to take care of yourselves. Don't throw your life away picking a fight with a god."

I pulled my wrist free, lifted my gaze toward the Nine Heavens, and smiled faintly.

"Matron, Master said not to fight a god. He never said anything about killing one."

——

I turned and walked back to my courtyard. Without a word, I dropped to my knees and began digging through the soil beneath the spirit-blossom tree with my bare hands.

Before long, a short sword caked in dirt saw daylight again.

The Matron rushed after me and snatched the blade from my grip, tears brimming in her eyes.

"Lynara, I know you want to avenge your master."

"But Aldric Voss is a primordial god. With this unremarkable little sword, you cannot defeat him."

"Please don't throw your life away for nothing."

"Your master said it himself. Trading one life for the future of every disciple in the sect was worth it."

But I knew Master was lying.

One look at the wreckage strewn across the Dawnveil Sect told the whole story. The moment Aldric killed him, every last disciple had followed the god away without hesitation.

Not a single one stayed behind to bury him.

For a pack of disciples that heartless, did Master truly believe it was worth it?

Faced with my silence, the Matron's eyes grew redder still.

But she was terrified I would do something reckless, so she swallowed her own tears and forced a smile.

"Lynara, you came back, didn't you? As long as you remember your master, that's enough."

Desperate to smother the hatred in my heart, she hurried into the kitchen and brought out a pot still faintly warm with steam.

"Lynara, our Dawnveil Sect is small. We don't have the power. Let's not talk about revenge."

"Look. Your master stewed this pigeon soup for you right before he died."

"He said you must have suffered on the road. You were already too thin, he said. You needed to eat properly."

I reached out and touched the dried blood crusted on the side of the pot. My face showed nothing. "Was Master making me soup when he died?"

The Matron's hands trembled. Her voice cracked further.

"Yes. He was watching the pot. He was afraid it would turn bitter if it stewed too long."

"He said you hate anything sour or bitter."

I thought to myself, that foolish old man. He died without ever realizing I'd been lying to him.

I never actually minded sour or bitter things.

I just hated taking medicine.

When Master first found me, I was badly wounded. My health never fully recovered after that, and I needed medicine constantly just to stay alive.

It drove me mad. Every now and then I'd dump the doses in secret.

When Master caught on, he bought sour jujubes to coax me, saying that if I ate one first, the medicine wouldn't taste so bitter.

I didn't want to cooperate, so I told him offhandedly that I didn't like anything sour or bitter.