Objo flew with her catch, the witch shrieking as her talons pierced flesh. Objo ignored her, she felt no passion for the woman, she deserved none, for what she had do didn’t matter that if this was her first or one huh offense, soon her every crime would be exposed before Nemia, she always knew every offense. Her goddess was unfiving, and Objo had uioning faith that all would be id bare before her righteousness.
She flew for days, unwavering, untiring, the witch’s cries giving way to whimpers, then silence. Eventually Nemia’s volo appeared on the horizon, smoke zily wafting from its crest. The volo hadn’t been active for turies now, not sinemia had judged the surrounding area to need a purging fire, to wipe her nds of the siess of men. A flood of sing magma surged down from its peak, the heavy ash skies blog the sun for miles and miles. It had been before Objo’s time, but the stories had been passed down among her acolyte sisters, spoken of with reverence as to Nemia’s might.
Objo soared downward as she approached, skimming the treetops, desding towards the obsidian caves that indicated the chthoraoddess’ domain. Wild poppies marked the path, a sea of reds leading inward, downward, plunging into the underworld. The sounds of the forest cut out sharply as she ehe tuhis was a world of shadows, gssy obsidian refles ing any light that made its way into the depths. But Objo’s eyes were used to the muted light, her inal owl eyes enhanced by the benevolence of her god, curved moonstone lenses yering just over the iris of her eye, enhang the muscles, direg even the smallest light inward. The heat intensified as she approached Nemia’s throne room, the light of the magma deep in the bowels of the volo repg the sunlight of the outside.
A cacophony of chirps and trills met her, drowning out the renewed whimpers of the wit her grasp, the woman shivering in her sharp hold. A thrill went through Objo, anticipation of greeting Nemia with her catch sending a jolt of glee down her spine, her muscles tensing with nervous energy.
With a final beat of her wings she soared into the throne room, a massive chamber, lit brightly by the pool of magma bubbling dangerously in its ter. She deposited the wit the ter of the room just shy of the pool, the woman rolling as she hit the floor from where she unceremoniously dropped. The cackles of Objo’s sisters echoed through the cave as they espied the witch, jeering at the kin killer. Objo alitted on a rocky outcropping, jutting from the chamber walls, joining the other acolytes to watch the judgment.
Clothes now shredded by the journey and Objo’s talons, beautiful braids now tahe witch picked herself up to stand wide eyed, eyes fearful as she regarded the harpies surrounding her.
‘Do you know why you are here?’ A voice asked, seemingly ing from everywhere, filling the chamber, while simultaneously resonating in the mind, surrounding a being in with its rich sound iirety. Nemia’s voice was a beautiful thing, heady and pelling, and to be so enpassed by it was to be humbled. Stumbling back from the magma pool the witch shook her head wildly, her hands going to her ears to stifle the god’s voice.
A figure emerged from the depths of the magma, fmes lig down her humanesque form, clothing her nakedness. Her skin was charred, magma visible between the cracks, stumps where arms might have been. Giant magma hands emerged from the magma depths to y ominously in front of her, csped. Nemia was a fearsome being to behold, Objo shivered, awed even after all this time.
‘Fourteen ts of familicide you are accused, fourteen ts of familicide you will pay,’ the witch’s eyes widened and she gasped, pleadingly ‘it is way of my people,’ she beseeched, colpsing to her knees, hands csped in front of her in supplication. ‘Please, please! It is the will of Zsa Zsa!’ her voice cracked on her gods’ name. Nemia looked at her for a long moment, before throwing back her head, a lh ugh ringing from her lips, filling the chamber with her voice more. Her ughter abated, though echoes lingered, ‘child, your ways are an abomination,’ she hissed venomously. ‘And now, you will be held culpable for your sins.’ With a massive magma hand she slowly reached for the woman, drawing out her panic, ‘please! Please!’ The witch sobbed, fear striking her immobile. Unmoved, Nemia grasped her in one hand, the witch shrieking as she burned, just as her kin had, days ago. Nemia smiled, satisfied with her judgment. Objo watched in thrall, leaning forward as the woman was fully ed. Not even a ghost left in her pce as her whole soul was righteously extinguished. Nemia had spoken, and all would be as she willed.
