Chapter 36 : You lied, Goddess.

"...Why," I croaked, my throat sore from all the screaming and crying I had done after learning that terrible, terrible, news that poor, unfortunate priest had to deliver.

My mother, Sheri, was dead.

Murdered. Or something. Kidnapped, maybe.

She also went into early labor before her untimely death.

The babies are fine, plural. Two boys, identical.

Craven and Sher, to honor my fallen mother.

Irene is besides herself, a shocked shell, currently.

I am not much better.

Sheri's fathers, my grandfathers are here.

I've never met them. Now I know why.

Supernatural entities, such as them, though it would be safer for us fragile, weak, tempting children to be as far away from them as possible.

...Until my outburst.

I don't know what happened, barely remember it, but I...changed.

Awakened, Grandfather Julian said, his shocking yellow eyes, so alike to the goddess' eyes that it was tempting to drive me mad.

She promised. promised. promised promised promised-

No...she said that no birth parents or eighteen-wheelers can take them away from me. Nothing about murder, or natural death, or age, or any other ailments and situations that could take them away from me.

That lying, deceiving goddess. In my time of need, when I was desperate and desolate she prayed upon me, seemingly giving me everything, but nothing all the same.

My skin changed back, back to its original color. No more pale skin. My hair fluctuates, back and forth, as though each color is vying for control and neither is winning. My eyes are the same yellowish-green they were...before my outburst.

I know I'm in shock, too...numb, unfeeling...and strangely thirsty.

So thirsty.

"I am sorry, goddess chosen," That lying, deceiving, grimalkin from hell whispers, as though her very being though talking a volume louder than that was too much work.

"Y-you liar. Liar. Liar! Liarliarlairlairlair--" I screamed before hugging my legs, unable to stop the words coming from my mouth.

"I made no promises that they would live, just that you could be with them again, goddess chosen."

"-Deceiver, cheater, imposter, conniver, blasphemer, fornicator, tempter--"

"I understand your ire, and your sadness, the best I could ensure was your brothers lived."

And she didn't even keep that promise.

"I hate you, loathe you, despise you--"

"I understand, Antonio, I really do, and in time I hope you forgive me for my misspoken words, all those years ago. It will get better, and just remember, The dead never stay dead."

(A/N: "The dead never stay dead" should be freaking BOLD but INKSTONE hasn't realized how much it's lacking for original novels, I suppose so, I'm here to inform you that It's kinda like a dark omen.)