First Demonic Dragon

There were many more scenes like the one with Janette and her husband. Not all of them limited to instances of domestic violence. Perhaps Seras’ mind went there first because this was the easiest to understand.

Sometimes, they were strangers—individuals who were completely unaware of each other until a particular moment in time but still resulted in explosive consequences.

Seras found herself searching for the distinction between the two. What’s more, she tried to discover how exactly she tied into all of it.

Her soul knew the answer. That had to be why she had chosen this path for herself.

Now, she just had to lead her mind towards the discovery.

Goddess of what, exactly..?

It had been war for so long. Mindless war, pointless war, cruel war.

She fueled, or was perhaps the source of the desire to profess oneself as the greatest even at the expense of the safety and wellbeing of others. To hurt first so that they were never hurt back.

A child’s imagination of war. One lacking any sort of nuance and intrinsically complicit in the horrors of man by the essence of it’s simplistic nature.

Might makes right.

Nothing else mattered. The wishes and wants of the strong dominated this world and even the ones we cannot see. If you didn’t want to be subjected to it, then you had to subject someone else to it.

That was the only way to survive.

Or at least, that was the inner belief that Seras had harbored for so long. Perhaps without realizing it.

And then… she fell in love. Got married.

Her husband was the strongest being she’d ever known. Literal Conquest.

But where she was black and white, he was gray. He understood the horror caused by himself and took them upon his soul as mementos.

He wouldn’t allow himself to forget the cost of war, violence, exploration, discovery.

The costs had names, faces, families, heritages. They were strings pulled from the fabric of a blanket passed down through generations, and forcefully woven into a curtain.

He wasn’t evil. He wasn’t forceful. He was himself, good and bad. He never tried to paint himself as anything else.

Given the chance, he would be the first one to tell a total stranger his flaws and the things that he wished he could’ve done differently.

He never thought of himself as being above others. He was on his own path to perfection just like anyone else.

She had never met a man like that. And after him, she was never capable of looking at another one again. He had her. Totally. Completely.

What kind of goddess are you?

And her second wife… oh how she adored her.

Childish and impy like a younger sister. Thoughtful and attentive like a mature lover. Another deity of war.

Some thought of them as being two sides of the same coin. War for Necessity and War for Superiority.

Seras thought that she was different from her wife. Their powers reflected that.

To put it in simpler terms, Bekka was the war the masses believed in. The last resort in an argument, where the side of moral superiority and nationality would triumph.

Seras was what war actually was. Two flames fighting over a log- arguing over which side could burn it better, quicker, and which of them had a divine right to it.

But when it comes to humanity, sometimes belief in something is all that they need to make it real. So Bekka was cemented as the purer of the two.

All the while, they know not that Bekka’s divinity and existence are a double-edged sword.

While she is War, she is also an emptiness. A bottomless pit with torrential discipline over herself.

But her existences are tied together. They influence one another.

War under the guise of necessity leaves one hollow.

When you can rationalize atrocity under the guise of necessity, the emotional burden becomes lessened. Eating away at your tolerance for disagreements be they big or small.

War will still be a last resort, but as the list of methods you’re willing to resort to becomes shorter and shorter… How much weight does that still hold?

Seras didn’t know if looking at the others would help her, but they were her greatest inspiration, and in some ways, she was looking for them to inspire her again.

What kind of goddess are you..?

Tatiana. Even deep in thought, Seras felt her body ache at the name.

Soft and sensual. Bold and caring.

She communicated better through physical contact than most people could with a 1,000,000-word thesaurus in their lap.

Seras knew when she was feeling lonely by a brush if her fingertips. She could tell when she was happy from the electricity in her touch.

Tatiana was also one of the few deities among them who most would consider to be ‘good’.

She was their family’s very own little goddess of justice. Seras didn’t know if she’d ever met someone who cared so much about every individual person. Possibly even more so than Eris.

While Eris is thriving, abundant life, she is also nature. And nature is cruel in its indifference.

So while Eris was most likely to be kind to someone, Tatiana was most likely to help them.

She was fair and just. Never wanting to see one person rise too far above the other, but rather see all of mortality start from an equal playing field.

The only reason why she wasn’t also seen as the family’s little sweetheart like Eris, was because Tatiana had a mean streak.

While her punishments always more or less fit the crime, she took sadistic joy in carrying them out. Even if they were so much as a traffic ticket.

Seras found her beautiful when she acted like that. Very little could compare to her exquisite majesty.

Seras thought that Tatiana was lucky. She was one of the few people they knew who actually got to align themselves.

She was a good goddess. Aide to the poor and the downtrodden. Silent watcher of the powerful and influential.

That was the kind of person who Tatiana was. The only people who didn’t like her were people who she already didn’t like.

‘My little hero.’ Seras thought fondly.

She missed her. She wished she could be more like her. But Seras was too inflexible for that sort of thing. She couldn’t see in black, white, or gray. Her vision was just

“Red.”

Seras opened her eyes in a world of scarlet. Waves of blood ebbed and flowed like waves, each carrying with them memories and scenes of tragic violence.

And standing in the middle of them was a child.

Skin as pale as milk. Almond-shaped eyes bruised black and blue. Her long white hair was matted with her own blood from a grievous head wound. Her left arm was bent in a crooked angle at her side. If one looked closely, they could see a bit of bone peeking through the flesh.

All the while, she wore a pair of little ballerina slippers that looked like they’d seen their days in the sun.

But what’s strange was… Seras could also see herself, or a version of it.

Tall and imposing. Chiseled body with a wicked smile and a hard look in her eye.

She was fearsome. Frightening. Everything she had worked so hard to become.

So why did it no longer feel fulfilling…?

Seras noticed that her vision kept shifting back and forth between the two. Sometimes, she could see both of her selves at once, despite how disorienting it may have sounded.

Was that what she wanted? Or was it fine to close her eyes on one of these forever?

“I…”

Seras was reminded of something that she thought only moments ago.

I can’t be like Tatiana.

What if she could? But in her own special way?

Doing that didn’t feel impossible… but maybe it would require turning her back on what she had come to know.

That was a scary thing, even for a goddess of Seras’ age. Taking a leap in an entirely new direction was no small feat.

But she wasn’t quite as afraid as she was nervous.

What would her family, her loved ones think of her after she changed..?

No, that was the wrong thing to worry about. They would continue to love her no matter what. She was sure of it.

All that she needed to do was make sure that she could love herself.

And that seemed to be the last piece needed in place.

Seras’ vision stopped flickering in between the two. Now, all she could see was one version of herself.

But oddly enough, it now felt like she was looking at a stranger. Perhaps her mind had changed quite a bit already.

“…I owe you a send-off, don’t I?”

The other version of her nodded.

Seras walked over to herself and took her into her arms.

Gently, she lowered herself to her knees and placed her counterpart into the blood.

While silently saying a heartfelt goodbye to what had been, she drowned herself in the waves of the blood they had spilled together.

“I’ll take it from here now… Thank you.”

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