Aurel opened his eyes. He was standing.
Beneath him stretched an endless expanse of pale marble veined with gold. Above, a sky without stars churned like storm clouds trapped beneath glass. The air felt heavy, sacred, and suffocating.
And before him, she stood upon a dais of light.
The feeling was immense. Not in size alone, though she towered impossibly tall, robes cascading like liquid dawn across the marble. It was her presence. It pressed against his mind like a hand forcing him to kneel. Her eyes burned, and not metaphorically. They burned pure light. Aurel couldn't help but be in awe.
'So she really is real...'
[Aurel Vealthorne the 3rd.]
The name echoed across the horizon, and her voice boomed loud enough to make him flinch. It was an intense tone of voice.
[You dare] the goddess said, her voice layered—one tone furious, another wounded, and a third beyond comprehension. [You dare stand before me with that look on your face?]
Aurel swallowed. His throat was dry, though he felt no body.
"I'm dead," he said carefully. "Have to be. Assuming this is my judgment, what other face should I have?"
'Oh no, that came out way too arrogant!'
Her eyes flared brighter.
[You think this is a jest?]
The marble trembled under her angry tone. He felt it then—like a thread inside his chest being tugged. A thread he had never noticed while alive.
[I gave you your gift,] the goddess said, descending one step. Each movement rippled through reality itself. [I shaped it myself. I carved it from my own dominion and placed it in your soul.]
His mind raced.
'Gift?'
"I never awakened," he said. "I have no [Will]."
[You had] she snapped, and the sky cracked with thunder. [You had something far rarer.]
The thread pulled again. Harder this time. Memories flickered in Aurel's mind. Rooms quieting when he entered as people flocked to him in numbers. Rivalries dissolving after a single conversation and judgment from his mouth. Professors unconsciously coming to his defense in any conflict that arose with the other students. Even his siblings tempering their contempt into something almost reluctant in his presence.
[You think it was natural?] the goddess demanded. [You think mortals simply bend around a boy with no power? You think your siblings have allowed you to live so long out of kindness from their hearts!?]
Her form loomed closer, and for the first time in his existence, Aurel felt small. He wasn't the young master here. He wasn't the most popular in the academy. He was simply Aurel, the boy. This made him more uncomfortable than anything else that was happening.
[I gave you [Sovereign Tongue].] The goddess continued. [A dominion over hearts. Influence without steel. Rule without force. A power to reshape loyalties, to seed devotion, and to fracture resolve.]
His breath caught.
"No. That… that was—"
[It was what? Your own hard work? Oh please. You squandered it on tavern wit and shallow praise] she said, and now there was grief threaded through her fury. [You could have commanded nations. You could have bound monsters. You could have bent your assassins to their knees before they ever drew a blade.]
Aurel's head snapped up.
"Assassins?" he repeated. "As in multiple?"
Her expression sharpened.
[Yes. Your Killers] She looked down at him in contempt. Like a mother with her least favorite child.
The word echoed unnaturally. More than one. The masked figure in the street had moved with impossible precision, but had they been alone? Had someone else watched? Planned? Ordered?
'Of course someone else is pulling the strings! With my political standing, that wouldn't be impossible! But what does it matter to know now?'
Aurel's mind ignited then quited.
"You're saying," he said slowly, "I could have—"
[Lived?] she cut in. [Yes. God knows how you have survived to this point. And since I am God, I do know! It was by my favor!] The marble beneath him cracked as her anger surged.
'Is it just me or is she getting angrier with every word...'
"I sincerely apologize for this misfortune, my lady!" Aurel bowed his head to the giant woman.
'Is that even the correct way to address her? Oh, whatever, I should just beg for now and hope she doesn't send me to hell.'
[You died ignorant. You died small. After all the effort I put into creating and molding your very soul! You should be ashamed to show your face here!] The goddess turned around and went back up to her seat.
Aurel felt it then, not just her wrath, but something else. Disappointment. He straightened instinctively, pride flaring even here.
"I survived without [Will]," he said quietly. "I climbed to the top without help from anyone else. That has to count for something!"
[Again. You didn't survive without [Will]; you were simply ignorant of it. You survived because I allowed you to] she replied. [Because your gift shielded you in ways you never perceived.]
"I disagree! If I were ignorant of my abillity how would I have used it? You need full consciousness, intent, and magic to use [Will]. Yes, I was ignorant, but it wasn't without reason! Who would think the son of such a strong military family would have such passive [Will]!"
Aurel started rambling on his thoughts. He felt wronged, and his pride wouldn't allow him to stay silent. Proof of the type of life he lived. A poor commoner might have taken the goddess's words and continued apologizing, but not Aurel.
'I probably shouldn't be saying this!'
"Dear goddess, it still stands that I climbed to the top by my own tenacity and charm. That I will not have you deny!"
Silence stretched. Then the goddess's expression shifted. It didn't get softer, no, quite the opposite. A terrifying and humanly impossible smile crept on her face. Aurel almost went blind from how horrifying it was before quickly looking back down. She gazed down at the pathetic mortal whom she had entrusted her creation. She had long understood that it was a mistake.
[You talk so big for someone dead. Amusing. I will give you one chance.]
The air stilled completely, and the mortal boy looked up with hopeful eyes before quickly looking back down.
'How terrifying!'
[You will return to the moment before your death.]
Aurel's heart, if he had one at the moment, lurched.
[And you will tame the one who killed you.]
The words were not metaphors. Aurel could tell. She meant it in the most literal sense.
[Not just one. But many. I will send as many killers as it takes to you, and you cannot kill them, run from them, or hide from them. Your ignorance has now been lifted, so there is no excuse at all. Use that ability I have carved into your very being to tame all your killers.]
Aurel's thoughts spun.
'Tame the assassin?'
Cold understanding settled into his mind. This wasn't a blessing at all. The goddess was throwing at him an impossible mission out of pettiness and anger. She was cursing him to a life of unrest and battle.
"If I fail?" he asked.
Her voice had a tone of childlike excitement.
[I will not simply throw you to hell, I will cast you to a place even gods don't dare to look. You will know what true abandonment is.]
The marble shattered beneath his feet, and light erupted upward. He felt himself falling, not downward, but backward. Through memory. Through breath. Through wine-scented laughter.
The roar of a tavern slammed into him, and warmth returned to his skin. There was music, clinking glasses, and loud voices to be heard all around.
Aurel blinked. He was seated at the center booth. Dorian was mid-sentence, Mirelle sipping violet liquor, and Rykard shuffling cards. Across the room, the waiter from the academy moved between tables. Alive, and unaware.
Aurel's fingers tightened around his glass. He did his best not to show on his face what had just transpired with him and the goddess. Still, it was too much to take in at once, and that was clear in the way his breathing quickened. His heart pounded... but not in fear this time.
He had clarity.
'[Sovereign tongue], huh?'
A menacing and crooked smile spread across his face. Aurel had just died, killed by a masked man, stood before a goddess, and had been granted knowledge of a power he didn't know he wielded. On top of it all, he was sent back in time to do whatever he wanted with that information. To do whatever he couldn't do before...
To say he was excited was an understatement.
'What a lucky turn of events.'