I lounge on a bench in a once flourishing square, watching the world crumble around me.

The screams and accusations of lies and cheating have become a normal melody in my head. One full day has passed since I infected Hazelvale, and the infestation only continues to grow. Its nasty tentacles have reached the farthest edges of the city, and threaten to creep out into all of Tavalon.

All I can do is watch. I'm alone and powerless. I tried to eradicate a few blackened hearts that were in my vicinity, but for each one killed, three more resurface.

There's no point.

So I sit around instead, dreading the end of my life. I'm sure it's coming.

As if on cue, a screeching siren slams into my ears. A blast of noise I recognize as a goddess' voice—I've only heard it a few times, earlier in my days, but it's a sound one never forgets.

It's deafening and rumbling. So powerful it brings me to my knees, hands clapped over my ears.

No one can hear this but me. It's a cry reserved for angels; a sordid means of communication between them and the goddesses.

Far be it from them to appear in person; they'd much rather slice into my scalp with piercing precision.

"Druvena," screeches the somber, sobering voice of Drenaris—goddess of Tavalon.

"Drenaris," I mutter, wincing from the way her words scrape at the insides of my head.

"You've put us all in danger," she says, not bothering to lessen her intensity. She doesn't care that I'm suffering; if anything, it's her way of warning me of what's to come. Her way of punishing me.

I'm sure Drenaris hates me. After all, I'm her angel, and all I've done is wipe this continent with blood and agony. Even before my demise, my method of choice to keep heartbreak away was death.

I doubt she's always been on board with that.

"Your carelessness has put the world's balance in jeopardy," she continues, so neutral it's almost like she doesn't care. But that's what goddesses sound like: solemn, superior. "Your selfishness let in the negativity we've striven to keep at bay. It's overwhelming, and it's spreading too fast for us to control it."

I wrinkle my nose. "So it's traveled beyond Hazelvale?"

"It's made its presence known on all seven continents, Druvena." There's no additional rage from this sentence, yet I know Drenaris is fuming. She's waiting for the signal from the others, allowing her to put me out of my misery.

There's no point apologizing. I'm too deep in trouble to bother groveling at this point.

"And you've come to announce my sentence and execute it?" My hands are still pressed to my ears, my teeth gritting whenever I'm not talking. Her presence is so overpowering, my legs quake and my core is clenched to stop me from falling on my face.

"I'm here to remind you how heartbreak was potentially one of the main causes of violence and horror and war in Exivaria. To make you remember that's why we hired you to ensure it never existed. The prophecy, Druvena. Did you omit it?"

No angel ever forgets the prophecy. Drenaris received it many, many eons ago, showing her that heartbreak would be the end of Exivaria. She and the other goddesses took it seriously, and fought to make sure it never showed its ugliness in our world.

And I...destroyed that with one roll in the sheets, one twirl of my tongue around Az's.

I can't stop myself. "I'm sorry," I say, though my heart isn't in it. Truthfully, I'm not sure where my heart is. It's so heavy with guilt and disgust that I might have willed it away.

"The gates of Hell are about to open," says Drenaris, a slither of fear in her once poised tone. "The king will roam free after millennia of developing a torrential grudge against humans and goddesses. He'll destroy everything in his wake, Druvena. He wants revenge for being locked up."

"I know." I swallow, fighting tears, fighting my own fear. "So go ahead and kill me for it. I accept my punishment. I know what I did."

There's too much pain in me to care anymore. And I can't help—clearly, I've only made things worse.

"No," says Drenaris, disembodied and distant. The screeching is no longer as scorching to my eardrums, and I lower my hands hesitantly. "You must learn your lesson by suffering the consequences of your actions."

"This?" I set a hand to my heart, knowing she can see me, wherever she is. "Suffering from the thing I've worked so hard to prevent?"

"Suffering from your failure, yes." Her presence is less heavy now, almost pleasant.

It's such a swift change that it discomforts me. "I'm confused."

"We do not kill angels, Druvena. You are extensions of us, descendants of us. It'd be immoral to end you for one mistake. A large one, for sure, but one we can recover from. With your help."

I look around at the helplessness. The pain propagating so freely about the area, darkening the skies, threatening to unleash chaos from the ground beneath us. The stench that won't leave my nostrils. "How? Is it not too late?"

"I'm going to fix you," she says, her voice a whisper now. And as she speaks, I sense her in me, no longer confined to my head. Her energy stretches from my scalp to my toes, filling me with warmth. "I'm going to remove the darkness from your heart, restore you to your normal self. But I warn you; your rage will not falter. Only your pain."

I'm about to ask her to stop—do I truly deserve to be healed after all this?—but she's already mending the arteries in my heart, removing the taint I'd let coat them. She's already seeping deep into me and eliminating the threads of black that wove through and hurt me.

"There," she says, sounding satisfied. "Your heart is no longer dark. But your mood will not get better. You will feel awful until you fix what you've done."

I do feel lighter, less plagued by the weight of my pain. And she's right—my mood is still sour, still shadowed by anger. "How can I fix it?" I roll my shoulders, open and close my mouth to work the kinks in my jaw. All the sobbing and internal screams made me rusty.

"You'll either sit by as the world perishes, and that's your choice. Or you'll take this restored heart and control your destiny. You'll take the situation into your own hands and do something about it. Defend yourself, Druvena. You were wounded, taken down; and now you must stand up and battle your attacker."

I get her meaning immediately. I know what she wants me to do, and I agree with it, no question. "Fight? Kill?"

"Kill. Fight." Her energy slowly leaves my body. "Fight for your goddesses, or they won't fight for you. I won't heal you again, Druvena. This was your one and only shot. Don't disappoint me."

In an instant, she's gone.

Alone again, I let out a sigh. My lungs repel the toxic air that surrounds me; I'm whole again.

So I get to my feet, bucking up, allowing my renewed energy to charge through me.

I'm peeved. At myself, at the world, at the goddesses. At him.

I don't want humans to suffer for my mistakes. So the only way to end this, to restore our balance, is to get revenge.

A specific revenge, on the one who hurt me.

Az.

I'm going to hunt down the demon who broke my heart. I'm going to kill him.

Wordcount: 1,262
TOTAL: 32,331