Break the cycle, purge the rot
I thought we had made it… A place safe from thieves, safe from hunger, safe from fear. A place in the dark where we could still enjoy the light. But the light burned us. Took what little we had. I have lived with pain long enough to know it well. If they will be the fire, then I will be the poison. We have suffered enough. It is time they taste the fruit of their labor. We gave them mercy. They gave us flames. So drink to your victory, and sleep sound— for where your head lies tonight will be your burial ground.
—Lost in time, thoughts from Vespera
"I'm telling ya, he's got the sweetest ass," Terra went on once more about her man—the one she found and who still stayed with her after all this time.
"We get it, luv, but please stop telling us. It's tiring," Jane said, eating from her stick of rat meat.
Vespera listened to them bicker. It was a nice change. She wished Serra was here too, but she'd been staying with Bobby the guard captain almost non-stop since they went open about their relationship. She was happy for her. She wished Tom could be close too, but he was needed elsewhere—like she was. She missed those nights with only him in bed. She thought she was happy as a whore before and never thought twice about that life—a different night with a new man in bed. But now that she had time to think? To choose? She found she just wanted to be loved instead of used for coin.
"The fuck are we here for, anyway? Talk is there's no thieves—calling horseshit on that. They're always hiding, even better than me, or the rot that gets stuck in our ass." Terra looked around at the random people in the streets, mostly ignoring the girls as everyone just seemed to be at peace.
"You know change is happening. We're proof of that," Jane said calmly, as if it explained everything.
"Whatever. I got a man, and a good one at that. You know he likes to take care of—"
"Terra, please. We're here to secure goods. Let's focus," Vespera said, tired of the talk herself, starting to feel the same strain as Jane.
"Fuck that. You bitches don't need me. I got stuff I can do too."
Vespera sighed but nodded. She wanted to be with all the girls, but it seemed they'd been drifting apart now—able to choose instead of just needing her. It stung a bit, but in a good way. They were free. Even Jane wanted to stay in the home with the kids and girls they'd been helping, but came to make sure they got supplies.
Terra left without much fuss after that. Truthfully, they all agreed she was just scared—waiting for the day her man would wise up and leave. But so far he kept staying and welcomed her back, so she couldn't wait to remind them every time they pulled her from his grasp.
"You can go too, Jane, if you like. I got this." No sense in punishing those too kind to disagree.
"Nonsense. We all love you. We've just found a bit of happiness, so it's only natural they want to enjoy it while it lasts." Vespera didn't like how she said it—as if it was inevitable it would fail and go back to the old ways.
"We didn't come this far for it not to last. The church is still a thorn, but they've been giving up fast from what Tom said. When the guards and knights didn't support them, it became just a matter of drawn lines we don't cross to keep the peace till we settle. Even that's slowly changing."
"Yeah, maybe…" Jane replied, unconvinced.
Talk shifted to business when they finally got a merchant to listen. They had coin and wished to barter. They needed to secure more food so they could stop eating just rats and bread—or at least make it a choice versus a need. And after that, more houses.
The merchant haggled like all tended to do, but it went smooth enough. Trades with other nations were still good. It was only the slums that suffered. To all others, it was just another day.
The supplies were heavy, but with Jane it was manageable. As they were heading back, it was a pleasant surprise to see Tom grinning among a few random walkers in the street.
"You been well?" Tom asked. A giggle from her side from Jane drew her attention.
"Since your man is here, I'll see if I can meet a clerk to deal with the housing crisis. Was planning on doing it later regardless, but now it's even better." Jane said this full of mirth, watching Vespera blush as if she had something to hide.
"Everything okay?" Tom asked, unsure what was causing her fluster.
"It's fine. The girls are just drifting apart, finding their own way. Bit of growing pains." Vespera was mildly surprised when Tom took the bags of food from her, shifting her weight slightly into him from the release.
She stopped watching Jane go and now admired Tom, kissing him deeply, happy he was here and easing her burden. She wanted to ask how he was—since dealing with the thieves, last she'd heard he was going to handle their spy issue and wondered how it went.
Yet his focus shifted away from their happy moment to... rats? She noticed them twitching and acting erratic. She felt the darkness in them, so they were touched by Abaddon like them. But she never thought she'd hear voices from rats, no less.
"Hurry! They die! We run scared!"
Others in the street heard the voice, wondering what was going on, and freaked out, fleeing. Watching rats spasm in the street, Tom and Vespera were lost as to what the rats tried to warn of. Both felt unease from their lord—something was hurting him? Eating away at his soul? A light…
They both turned to where the feeling was strongest and saw the smoke, making her blood chill. "No…" she whispered, not wishing to believe there was even a chance it was their home. But it was the slum that had the smoke, and it was in that area.
"Maybe an accident happened. I'll get the knights and guards to go help. You help who you can." Tom said this, breaking her thoughts. Right. I need to help. Nothing's changed—just another day surviving the slums. Instead of a fist or avoiding a guard, it's now a fire. We can do this.
She watched Tom leave, still carrying the supplies with ease. She was thankful they weren't wasted. Thieves in the streets, just surviving—one emergency didn't take away others they'd have to deal with afterwards. Did the rat vendor have a grease fire? Maybe… but he was careful and had been open for a while with no issues. But there's a lot of trash near his area, so maybe they just haven't had enough time to clean it all…
No. The light was panicking the rats and hurting their lord. It was something worse. As she kept running that way, breathing hard, wondering what it was—the light… the church? Maybe. It made sense. But fire? They were cruel, but not willing to go that far. Were they?
The flames grew with her dread, and she felt she had her answers even if she didn't like them.
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A roar tore through her—Abaddon's impotent rage. The light ate at him, and since he wasn't here, he lacked the power to affect things directly.
Breathing hard, she finally reached the burning home. A crowd pressed near the building, unable to get closer. Even she felt the sting of the light that made it impassable. Why did it burn? Was this the price for their gift, or just the Light condemning them for wanting to live? There were women and children in there. Why was the goddess punishing them? They didn't even choose the gift—they were just given a home off the streets.
Panicked voices cut through the chaos, telling fragments of what happened: the bishop had come with followers. They held crystals—the goddess's light made solid. The followers poured their lives into the crystals to make them burn brighter, aging themselves to old men in moments. The light consumed them to fuel itself.
People were already trying to make a makeshift trail with buckets of water, trying to splash where they could or even push the blazing crystals further away. But the light was a barrier—anyone who got too close screamed and recoiled, skin blistering.
It seemed all would be lost when, between their legs, a series of rats started rushing the crystals, turning to ash in a blink. It confused her—what was the point? Yet more came in larger waves. A sea of darkness darted between all legs and kept rushing the light. It dimmed ever so slightly as they went on, until a literal swarm engulfed the light. Even as it bubbled and ashed and light beams shot out, the swarm kept slamming into it, smothering the light.
It emboldened others to fight the fire better and find places where they could get closer to windows, hoping whoever was inside was smart enough to flee.
They were finally able to see kids crying, unsure what to do. The adults inside tried to encourage them to jump, but they refused—scared. It took the women inside tossing them down in waves, best they could. It wasn't all of them she knew, but the majority was safe. Even as their home burned… even as the screams of the few who didn't get to a window—who tried to find a new place to hide—died with the roaring flames.
The guards came in time, along with knights—a sea of people fighting the sea of flames, trying to contain the fire before it burned everything indiscriminately. The light was a forgotten threat, along with the sea of rats. Both were gone—just ash and dull stones remained. The night carried on, trying to contain the fire. They could burn the whole city if left unchecked.
Hours later, exhausted, they succeeded in turning it to smoldering ash. But it cost them everything and more. They didn't know the full losses at the time, but the weight of people's choices weighed heavy on all of them.
That was when Vespera decided the Light was wrong—a poison. Trying to change it subtly had cost them everything they'd built.
Abaddon is a god, and we chose him. So why are we hiding like rats in the slums? Why are we letting people who trusted us burn for that faith while the Light kills indiscriminately?
She'd been patient. Offered choice. Built slowly, carefully. And they'd answered with fire.
Fine. Turnabout is fair play. They wanted to be fire? She would be poison.
Weakened from healing everyone affected by the fire and light, Abaddon felt Vespera's will and smiled. He approved. Everyone would get one chance—no more. They'd waited too long, letting inaction and defiance go unanswered. Let them see the weight of their choices now.
The girls were all safe, for which she was thankful. They resettled the survivors back into the streets, but that was temporary. Soon they would have many homes—after the purge. The slums would be a graveyard of memories they'd keep as storage, not homes to live in. Watching the still-falling ash rain from the church's choices, it would be a sign for those unaware of what was to come. The first strike had been made. Now they would swing the final blade and end it.
Tom and the girls wondered how she was planning to retaliate. They technically had the numbers and could burn most things to ash. They did have the knights and guards, but a subset was still loyal to the king within the walls and hard to reach. It would be a bloody siege if they went that route, and the goddess could intervene long before they claimed all ground.
She just smiled, surprised they didn't share the same knowledge with the dark within them. But it seemed the blessing was individual, not a true unity. It was Abaddon's gift of freedom to choose, not binding them to his will—merely sharing some of their essence and flesh.
She explained what she intended—cold, methodical. How it would sweep through the city. How everyone would get one chance to choose the right side or be marked. After that? The dark would remember who stood by while children burned.
It surprised them all, but they approved. It would be a true test to see if the goddess cared—if this was her will or just a zealot of Light with stolen power. Either way, it was a truth they would face for their freedom and to avenge their losses.
Deep within a sewer, a lone rat scoured the tunnels. It knew this area used to be surrounded by rats and had always feared them eating it. But now? Nothing. Well, a husk of a body sat alone in a corner. It sniffed and nibbled at the flesh. They must have died from hunger—a feast for the rat, never knowing it was the corpse of the Rat Lord. Sending all the rats to their deaths had killed his mind, unable to handle the sea of death.
Abaddon took his soul within to try to help him, but the rat lord mind was too far gone to bring back. So Abaddon consumed it to fuel healing others vs letting it stay a wandering sprit. It was a bitter taste he did not enjoy, as it felt like a betrayal to consume the souls of those who trusted him and gave everything to defend his people. But he would remember the taste upon his lips. It would make the venom to follow all the deadlier.33Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJqOnwgTsTp
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