Self destruction

When Hekate returned to the room, she found Fidelisa seated in a chair, her arms crossed and a firm grimace etched on her face.

“Now,” Fidelisa began without preamble, her tone clipped, “tell me what’s going on. And start with what happened in there.”

Hekate sank into the other chair with a heavy sigh, the exhaustion clear in the slump of her shoulders. Faint traces of tears shimmered in her eyes, though her expression had hardened. “We went into her memories,” she said bitterly, her voice thick with frustration. “Back to before she ended up here. Specifically, the day she destroyed the only good thing she had.”

Fidelisa’s sternness softened slightly. She reached out to place a comforting hand on Hekate’s knee. “Take your time. I need to understand.”

Hekate’s hands clenched into fists, trembling with a mix of anger and sorrow. “She had love, Fidelisa. Real, true love—the kind people like us almost never see. And what does that fool do? She throws it away!” Her voice cracked as she continued. “She convinced herself she wasn’t worthy. That the girl she loved deserved someone better. That staying would ruin her life. So, what does she do? Dumps her. Right before their damn graduation ceremony. And then—then!—she runs away like a coward before the poor girl can even confront her.” Hekate’s fist slammed down on the arm of the chair. “I could strangle her!”

Fidelisa let the outburst wash over her, waiting for the storm to pass before responding in her calm, measured way. “It’s not uncommon for people to sabotage their happiness when they’re consumed by self-doubt. But she has us now, dear. We’ll help her see she’s worthy of love. Of happiness. In time.”

Hekate shook her head, her voice thick with emotion. “I don’t know if she’ll ever believe that. And worse, he knows about her. Or at least he knows something. You know how he’s always watching.”

Fidelisa frowned slightly. “He? You mean—”

“Aiwass,” Hekate spat the name like venom. Her nails dug into the arm of the chair. “Of course, he couldn’t resist making his presence known. He left me a little message: ‘Tell my niece I’m looking forward to meeting her.’”

Fidelisa blinked in surprise but quickly composed herself. “Dear, you know Aiwass doesn’t mean you ill. For all his posturing, he’s never acted against you directly.”

“That’s what makes him so infuriating!” Hekate growled. “He’s always there, looming like a shadow, pretending to play the helpful older sibling. I’m sick of it. The ‘Prince of Gehenna,’ they call him. Always scheming, always testing me. He’s just like Father. All games and half-truths.”

Fidelisa tilted her head thoughtfully. “Perhaps, but you know as well as I do that when Aiwass gives advice, it’s often worth listening to. He warned you before, and following his advice did save you trouble.”

Hekate groaned, throwing her hands up in frustration. “I hate that you’re right. He’s always up to something, though. There’s a reason he and Mother can’t stand each other. I just don’t know what his game is yet.”

Fidelisa decided not to press further, sensing Hekate’s growing agitation. Instead, she leaned back in her chair, her tone shifting to something lighter. “Well, we’ll deal with him if and when the time comes. For now, you should rest. Tomorrow, we’ll focus on Alexis. She’ll need my help bonding and building her magical defenses.”

Hekate’s lips quirked into a wry smile. “And maybe teach her some organization while you’re at it. Have you seen her mindscape? It’s chaos in there.”

Fidelisa raised an amused brow, a chuckle escaping her. “Coming from you? Darling, I’ve been trying to teach you organization for centuries.”

Hekate waved a dismissive hand, her grin growing. “That’s different. My mind is… layered. Besides, I’ll always have you to tidy up the house.”

Fidelisa rolled her eyes but laughed, the tension between them finally easing.