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The strange thing about life was that some sun-cycles it gave you reasons to rise above your station and change the world around you, and some sun-cycles it just made you want to punch a girl in the face.
I needed to … stalk her. Responsibly.
“You should—” “Stop talking to boys,” I interrupted. “Yeah. We’ve had this talk before. It’s irrational. I can’t avoid all males.” “Just the sols.” He frowned. “And the dwellers. And the gods.” “So just … all males, then?” I arched a brow at him. He nodded, once, short and sharp—as though we had just figured out our differences and come to a mutual agreement,
“What level of stupid are we talking here?” Rome asked, ignoring the first part of my bossing. “Are we talking stupid like a Beta who can’t seem to stop talking to other males, forcing me into ‘crusher’ mode, as she so eloquently phrases it? Or is it more like Trickery when he decides that his little amusements are more enjoyable than letting us all know what he’s up to?”
Large hands wrapped around me as he pulled me close to his chest. “What I actually said was that you are ours. I’ve claimed ownership of you, Willa Knight.”
“We’re yours also, you know that. This isn’t a one-way thing.”
Don’t lose the stone, don’t get angry at the stone and throw it anywhere, and don’t try to eat the damn thing.”
“Oh.” Yael sounded genuinely shocked. “It really is her. Rome just dropped like a bag of rocks.”
You need to be taught the beauty in Chaos, Lucille answered. The gifts of the gods are not good or bad—they are only gifts, shaped from the very forces of the world. It is the person who makes them good or bad.
The word does not create Chaos. It is the mental intention. Clearly your words and brain have no barrier. It was like he had known me my entire life. “Yeah, I tend to react rather than think. Thought and words happen at the same time.” If you intend to control Chaos, that has to change.
Chaos is not a curse. If the person wielding the Chaos only uses it for evil, it becomes a curse—but that is only by the fault of the person and not the gift. Chaos can be a beautiful thing, if you know where to look for it. If you learn to see it properly and wield it properly.
You are stronger than we expected, for one so young. As hard as it is to believe, your sufferings were gifts, in a way. They formed a being far more exceptional than simple genetics ever could.
I crossed my arms over my chest, finally realising how little I was wearing. Sure, underwear was actually better than my usual bouts of nudity, but I was still pretty skimpily dressed. Alone. With the Neutral God whose Neutral Dick had been briefly having non-neutral feelings.
“Well, if you remember correctly, you didn’t punch me, you dropped your face into my di—”
Hard surfaces wronged me all the time, and I still attacked them at least once every sun-cycle.
“I’ll have you know that I haven’t drowned even once, and I’ve fallen into at least three wells.”
“Don’t even think about it.” The reprimand was a rough sound, vibrating through the half-bared body to my left. Rome. “You put your hands on me tonight and I’ll break the stupid pact and take every damn consequence they give me.”
“Listen, Rocks, I might have fought against you being part of our world, but it was because I didn’t want you to get hurt. We’re gods, our world is no place for a dweller. Especially one so breakable.” His hand slowly lowered, before pressing against my chest, just above my heart. “I know you’re ten times more resilient than I gave you credit for. You’re worth a hundred gods, and I’m going to embrace every inch of crazy and naked you bring into our world.”
“You’re special. You’re the only person we’ve invited into our group. The only person who has been allowed to get this close. You’re like an outsider who belongs inside, so we brought you further in than we even bring each other, to make up for the fact that you weren’t born one of us.”
The last time I needed seven people to do an enchantment, it was to fix the illusion that someone created to convince all the gods that they had woken up with the wrong set of genitals.”
“Why?” I asked, pausing before taking another bite. “Will it not mix well with the magic? Is this like that swimming rule that Emmy is always telling me about just in case I stumble out of Blesswood and into the river that surrounds the place, like some kind of out-of-control cart with broken wheels? Am I not allowed to have magic performed on me with a full stomach?” “I’m sorry I brought it up in the first place,” Cyrus muttered lowly,
“No, I won’t scream. Unless you have to touch me in any inappropriate places—and if you do, then I feel like your job as a rule-enforcer should be taken away because that’s an abuse of authority.” “You’re right.” He narrowed his eyes on me. “I’ll make a complaint as soon as I’m done here. There has to be someone around here to handle complaints and deal with them accordingly.”
You can tell me what’s going on. I’m great with secrets. I once didn’t tell Emmy that her dress was tucked into the back of her underwear for a whole sun-cycle. Okay—to be honest, I never told her. Mostly because I didn’t realise she wasn’t doing it on purpose. I thought it was a new fashion statement, the first one from Emmy that seemed fun in any way. Long story short, she got sent home from school with a warning for exposing herself.”
Oh gods … how was I going to run away from Rau next time if I was confined to a wheeled chair? How was I going to explain being confined to a wheeled chair to Emmy?
“I love you, too, Willa-toy. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Life—immortality—none of it meant anything until you tripped in and started setting things on fire.”
“I love you, Rocks. Never doubt it.”
“Am I swimming yet?” I asked, to dissipate the tension. Yael rolled his eyes. “And she’s back.”
“Then you’re doing it … right.” I struggled to say that without laughing myself, or cursing, or groaning out in frustration and throwing a giant rock at the back wall—but some of us had to show a little maturity. Clearly, my mother wasn’t going to do it.
