MOF (Manifestations of Faith) My webnovel that goes with this short story, found here.

The realm came alive around her, filling with color and… emotions?

Yes.

Emotions.

She felt her face twitch; creasing upward as she stared down at the man, the one who had, in a sense, raised her.

She didn’t see him as a father though, nor a caretaker, even if that is what he was supposed to be.

It was a blur, being taken, forced to work, being the cook for so many maws, most eagerly waiting the chance to swallow her whole.

‘You are my burden,’ the corpse had once said to her. ‘My trial, my temptation, my foe.’ She still heard his laughter then, when she’d been assigned to him. ‘That will be your name; Foy.’

She began to shiver, chest quivering, lips painfully stretched upward.

“He, he, hahahahah.” The laughter took her, she couldn’t help it, it was all so hilarious.

“I was..” she gasped. “Your foe.” But he’d forgotten, grown accustomed to her presence, her mute obedience.

She began to slap her thigh, mirth pouring out of her, she couldn’t stop herself, it was beautiful, the greatest joke.

She forced herself to breathe, desperate to suck in the air; she half succeeded.

This alone was worth the price to come, she couldn’t recall laughing like this before; and after seasons of bleak existence, it made it all the sweeter.

Tears streaming down her face, and body about to collapse from the strength of her laughter. She sent to the god, that she now loved, her Devotion, her warmth, her thanks.

‘It’s beautiful; Wonder is beautiful.’

She felt a warm embrace, the acknowledgement of a god, her god now.

Malan the monster maker, the Ruiner, the bringer of madness; all lies, he is the god of Wonder, of truth, insight, and most of all, a healer.

‘Laugh to your hearts content,’ her god sent.

It was tender and comforting; everything she’d longed for.

‘For your time is short.’

She listened, and stopped trying to hold back. The joy took her; causing her to collapsed on top of the corpse. He was so large, a fierce warrior, rumored to have gained the attention of a god, one of Wargain’s sons.

Funny how little that meant, when confronted with delectable poison.

‘How he rages,’ her god sent. ‘All of them; you may not see it, but you are surrounded by ghosts.’

She laughed louder, and for the fun of it, took the kitchen knife still held in her hand, and began stabbing the corpse’s skull.

‘I love you.’ She sent, for this had to be love, what else could it be? The realm was alive again, and her chest was filled with an adoring affection.

‘Ah, so your tormentor did have some connections.’

She understood what he meant a moment later, when a portion of the hall came crashing down. Fire followed, burning brightly around a figured that crashed into the floor; even then she still couldn’t stop laughing.

The figure rose, while her god sent details of what she was facing.

Someone had deemed fit to send an Ascendant. Standing tall, triple the size of any Kolune - that it was shaped after - the construct of steel and blazing fire, turned to stare at her with searing orbs.

She snickered, lodging the knife into the skull of the corpse. “A little much for me, don’t you think?”

“I see the Ruiner’s madness has already claimed you, heretic.’ The Ascendant spoke, its voice deep and metallic.

Smiling wide, and not feeling a speck of fear she spoke: “I have never been more sane, than now.” She motioned to the fire that was the symbol of her death. “Why should I fear you, or care for what is about to come? Even dead, I will be more alive than I was ever before.”

Malan had set her free, bestowed her truths about Creation, the wonder of it, the endless possibilities open for her, if only she were to act.

The flaming mass of metal approached; its presence so hot that it induced the touch of Death. She felt its chill, the end that would birth a beginning.

“You are cast out, condemned, the afterlife of those worthy forever denied you.”

She chuckled, and rose. “It was always going to be denied me, I was a cook, not the best way to earn glory.”

Even if she’d been given a profession that allowed such, she still wouldn’t have made it anywhere; Malan had revealed that.

Wargain and his sons played favorites. Only Kolune got the worthwhile attention, and even in that race, there was special treatment reserved to those that had a direct line to the original tribes of Order.

“The Glen was always going to be my destination.”

The Ascendant manifested an axe of flame, unneeded, she was already dying.

In a flash, the heat, that she normally would have been retreating from, caught her fur on fire.

The chill of Death wrapped around her, yet in her chest she still felt that wonderous warmth.

She laughed in the face of the towering figure; axe raised high.

Flaming arms parted, skin turning black, she smiled wide at the end; for she knew the ultimate truth.

“I am forever.”

The axe came down; and while she knew it must have split her in half, she didn’t feel the impact.

The only reason she knew the deed done, was the realm filled with shimmering hues of smoke that came off everything. That, and she was surrounded by Kolune bearing their fangs.

It was, she quickly noted, the ghosts of all the people she’d killed today.

“You Bitch!” Roared her Unfather, claws unhinged; he charged and reached out to grab her.

She didn’t move, only tilted her head and gave a mocking smile; his claws and hands passing right through her.

Both of them knew, she and Malan, that she was going to die, be around those killed by her hands. So, her sweet god had informed her of certain rules within the Glen. Such as the choice of whether or not she wanted others to be able to touch her.

Unfather swiped at her baffled, rage mounting with each failed attempt to inflict a wound.

She made a face at him, and slowly shook her head disapprovingly. “What a failure you are.”

He froze, looking at her dumbfounded.

“Killed by a little Heon,” she let out a loud laugh. “And died outside of battle too,” she clapped her hands together, it was perfect. “No glorious afterlife for you.”

For any of them actually.

Unfather screamed, clawing at her madly; she just stood there drinking in the sight.

‘I really do love you for this,’ she thought to her god. ‘And will be forever faithful.’ It wasn’t hard, Wonder had provided her everything and more.

‘I know,’ her god sent. ‘I feel it, a strong connection, and while I don’t expect it to last forever as you claim. Still, I am happy to have righted a wrong; and so I ask you, will you help me do the same for others?’

‘We already struck a deal,’ she sent back, and a connection formed, followed with a changing.

She looked down at her hands, watched as they turned black as night, and then became hidden behind a cloak even darker. She felt her body shift too, growing larger, given her field of view became higher and level with Unfather; who was backing away, all the ghosts were.

“So that’s it,” the Ascendant said. She’d forgotten about it, even though it had never left the area, and seemed to see her even in the Glen. “One of his Shadows then, truly lost.”

She shrugged.

“Why not? It’s not like any of the Orders ever showed a care.”

It let out a snort of smoke, and a low growl.

She rolled her eyes, which it probably hadn’t seen, and before turning, waved it farewell.

“So long flaming blind man, and the rest of you.” She moved, heading for the exit, all the while knowledge began to flood into her mind. So many secrets, things she could do, how she could bend Creation. But after the deed she’d done today, the way she had laid warriors low. She had other wonders in mind, ways to help Malan inflict vengeance upon a pantheon chaining its people.

‘For this little Heon,’ she thought; face touched with a smile. ‘Has poisons to brew.’