The breathing of Iris was labored and she trembled quite a bit. Her bedclothes were soaked with sweat. Her lips moved as she mouthed her name, rank and serial number, but it wasn’t enough to block the pain, because she hurt more than she’d ever experienced before. Tears continually rolled down her cheeks as she wondered how it was possible for the pain to be far greater than the torture she’d endured aboard Foundation Stone. However, in contrast to the torture spells she’d endured, which had started from her toes and rolled to the top of her head, activating each nerve ending in sequence, until they were overwhelmed and shut down, the current situation involved roughly the same pain, but over her whole body and her nerves weren’t shutting down.

  She didn’t really comprehend their words, but her sisters were speaking.

  “Is it time?” Amelia asked.

  Iris took in a slow and ragged breath.

  Marta shook her head, “Not yet.”

  Exhaling was just as slow and ragged.

  “I can’t stand to see her like this.” Amelia sighed with frustration.

  Iris coughed a little, then breathed in.

  “Neither can I, but if I do this too soon, she’ll suffer even longer. That would be even worse.”

  Iris closed her eyes and tried to focus on her name, rank and serial number, mouthing the words again, but it had no effect.

  “I know, but I hate this. It’s like watching her being tortured!”

  Iris took one last ragged breath, exhaled and struggled to breath in, but her lung muscles wouldn’t work! Her eyes snapped open as the pain in her body peaked! She wanted to scream, but she couldn’t! Her vision constricted and she felt like she was looking down a tunnel. If she didn’t breath sometime soon, she was going to die!

  Her vision constricted even further and faded as she lost consciousness!

  Marta was frustrated and angry with herself, because she’d waited too long to hit Iris with the pleasure magic and her body had failed. The spell had initially helped and her heart started back up for a time, but that hadn’t lasted more than a minute.

  Marta performed thirty chest compressions, counting out loud, then Amelia leaned over their sister to breath for her, twice. They followed that sequence just the way Mother had taught them, so many years before.

  Ten minutes had passed, during which Iris had been slowly turning blue, which wasn’t a good sign. In fact, it indicated what they were doing wasn’t having the desired effect!

  As Marta finished another set of compressions, Amelia didn’t bother to breath for Iris, speaking aloud through a torrent of tears, “She’s gone, Marta!”

  Marta shoved Amelia aside and did the rescue breathing herself, then went back to chest compressions, growling, “I’m not giving up! I can do this all day!”

  Amelia put a quaking hand on Marta’s shoulder and spoke softly, “Let her go. We did our best, but she’s not coming back.”

  Marta stopped and turned to Amelia, hugging her as they sobbed together.

  Marta spoke through the blubbering, “It’s my fault, because I waited too long! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

  “You did your best. We both did.” Amelia spoke honestly, “Sometimes, that just isn’t enough.”

  “Hey. It’s good to see you.”

  Iris opened her eyes and looked on the face of Mother, though she appeared far younger than Iris remembered, because she was back in her prime. She had the same strawberry-blond hair, however, which had been braided, to keep it out of the way. She wore a white dress, which otherwise resembled the usual work clothes she’d always favored, with a white apron over the top. The apron had all the familiar stains from alchemic reagents that Iris had always seen on it. Around Mother’s neck was a necklace made from a series of copper plates that had purple stones set into them, another item Iris had never seen her without.

  The two of them were in a garden filled with indescribably beautiful flowers of varieties Iris had never seen. In fact, they could almost be described as heavenly, except for the fact the word didn’t do them justice, because it was insufficient. In the background, four figures in dark, hooded robes sat at a round, stone table, surrounded by stone seats. Set before them was a tea set that gleamed so brightly, it could only have been made of mythril. They drank from the shining cups in a dainty fashion.

  Iris smiled at her mother, stood and hugged her.

  Both of them cried for a long moment, before Mother added, “I just wish the circumstances were better.”

  “What?” Iris asked.

  “You just died.”

  “I did?”

  Mother released Iris and waved a hand as she manipulated the magic of the air in a fashion Iris had never seen before. That resulted in a window-like aperture opening in the air, which displayed a view of Amelia and Marta desperately trying to resuscitate Iris. Marta pressed on the body’s chest, to force the heart to pump. After a moment, Marta paused and Amelia pinched the body’s nose closed, took a deep breath and inflated its lungs, for two breaths. When she was done, Marta went back to pressing on its chest, counting as she worked.

  With a wave of Mother’s hand, the image vanished away.

  She looked Iris in the eye, “You now have a choice. You can stay with me, or you can go back.”

  Iris was initially torn, because it was wonderful to see Mother again, but on the other hand, her sisters would be sad if she stayed dead. Yet, for the moment, she was pain free and going back would involve the same kind of agony, over a prolonged period of time, with multiple experiences just as painful as the first death had been.

  “Staying sounds really nice, but…”

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  “Yes?” Mother prompted.

  “You’ll be here for me next time, right?”

  Mother smiled, “I’ll always be here for you. Your Father would have been here, but you know how busy he can be. He found some helpful work to do for Nyna, who thinks he’s the best avenging angel she’s ever had.”

  “Dad’s working for ‘No Face’ Nyna!” Iris was surprised, “What would she employ a woodcutter for?”

  “Well, you know your father’s temper and how much he hates injustice…let’s just say the Dark Goddess of Justice has more work than she can manage on her own and needs a little help from time to time. Your father is extremely busy, which is good, because it keeps him out of trouble.” Mother smiled and winked, then changed the subject, “But enough about that. Have you made your choice?”

  Iris nodded, “I’m going back. Amelia and Marta need me. We’ve got an ancient, undead witch to kill.”

  Mother hugged Iris, then stepped back, while the four figures that had been drinking tea rose and walked over. Iris turned to face them and the first removed their hood, revealing a woman with skin so pale, there was practically no color, with hair so dark and shiny, it sparkled. Dark eyeshadow surrounded her eyes, making them look sunken-in, like a corpse, but the odd part was, she appeared to have been crying, which had left dark streaks down her cheeks. However, as she got closer, Iris doubted that conclusion and realized the woman’s makeup had been extremely skillfully applied to give that impression.

  She looked strangely familiar.

  “Why do I know your face?” Iris asked.

  “I’m Nuva, Goddess of Death and the Afterlife.” The Goddess bowed her head, “You cannot help but know my face, because I collected your soul when you died, though I gather the experience was a little too traumatic for you to remember.”

  “Are you’re going to take me back now?” Iris spoke a little nervously, because she wasn’t eager to experience more of the nightmarish pain she’d been in.

  “Not yet, because my sisters would like a word.” Nuva gestured to the other three figures, who removed their hoods, revealing the faces of the three Goddesses of Fate, which had always been very clearly depicted in the scriptures.

  They were sometimes known as Vanenta’s Tears, because they’d formed from the tears of their mother, after an argument with Junas. Junas had been too logical at the time and Vanenta had been too emotional, leading to the most intense argument they ever had and Vanenta’s sorrow had given birth to the stars, including The Fates. Three navigation stars had also been named after them, which were visible during different times in the orbit of Junas.

  Apreo appeared young, about fourteen years of age, with short, curly, brown hair, brown eyes, an exuberant smile and a mischievous expression. She represented childhood and the past.

  Uthec was possibly in her early twenties and a bit taller. Her hair and eyes were the same color as her younger sister’s, though her long hair was straight. Her face was creased with early wrinkles, due to constant worrying. She appeared to be pregnant. She represented adult life, motherhood and the present.

  Drues was the eldest of the sisters, appearing as an old, hunched crone, with a face that was wrinkled like a raisin. The way she hunched made her shorter than Apreo. Her eyes were nearly identical to her two younger sisters, but her stringy hair was gray, rather than brown. She represented old age, wisdom and the future.

  The three spoke as one, for they’d always been one in purpose, “The witch you know as the Dead Queen has defied us long enough. You will be instrumental in delivering her soul to Nuva. The task will take many years to accomplish, but everything pivots on current events…”

  Iris listened very carefully, doing her best to remain attentive as they explained what they wanted of her. It took quite a while.

  When they were done, Iris bowed her head and spoke honestly, “It’s my pleasure to serve The Gods.”

  “And you shall be blessed.” The three responded.

  They approached and each of them kissed the forehead of Iris, starting with Apreo, who followed by saying, “May you release your burdens with ease, like a child. May your children know peace.”

  Uthec was next, saying, “May you find joy in every moment you can. May you be the best of mothers.”

  Drues finished with a blessing of her own, “May you find what you seek and may you seek what is best. May your future husband bring you joy.”

  The Fates donned their hoods and turned to walk away, vanishing among the flowers.

  Nuva approached, embraced Iris and kissed her forehead, then declared, “With this gesture of affection, I bless you with a measure of my power. You are now my Priestess. Carry the title with reverence and call on me when you’re in need.

  “However, you must hold your tongue concerning the task you’ve been charged with, until those events are nigh, lest you unravel the plan of The Fates. To that end, this will be like a dream, but you will remember all when the time comes to act.” Nuva released Iris and gestured to Mother, saying, “I’ll give you a moment to say goodbye, then we must go.”

  Iris turned back to Mother and the two of them hugged again, crying some more.

  “I love you.” Mother whispered.

  Iris held Mother tight, “I love you, too.”

  As they let go of each other, Nuva put a hand on the shoulder of Iris.

  The Goddess spoke with a slightly amused smile, “I’ll see you later.”

  In the background, the corpse of Iris stopped being one and took a loud breath, followed by a blood-curdling scream, which caught her sisters so totally by surprise, they joined her!

  Marta stared in shocked horror and exclaimed as Iris sat up, “That’s not possible! She was dead!”

  Amelia laughed, hysterically, “I don’t care! Iris is alive, thank Nuva!”

  Iris finished her long scream and took some deep breaths as her color improved, though she was still a little blue.

  “I feel really weird, like tingly all over!” She commented.

  Amelia suggested, “Just relax and breathe. Sounds like you’re low on oxygen.”

  She moved beside her sister and spoke in the witch’s tongue: ‘air’ and ‘pure’. Amelia cupped her hands over her sister’s mouth and nose, though her fingers were spread wide.

  “Take some deep breaths, while my magic purifies the oxygen in the air.” She instructed.

  They were all quiet for a time, until Marta finally spoke, “What happened? We gave up and…and you came back on your own.”

  Iris shrugged and answered, “I saw Mother, then Nuva embraced me and kissed my forehead.”

  “Holy…” Amelia trailed off.

  Marta finished the sentiment with a curse word, then asked, “That sounds like the Rite of Nuva’s Blessed! She made you a priestess?”

  “I…I think so, but it’s all a little hazy.” Iris answered.

  Amelia pointed out, “That would certainly explain why we couldn’t resuscitate you. The scriptures say Nuva has always taken her sweet time with the Rite, only to send the recipient back when all life-saving efforts have been abandoned.”

  Iris stopped being blue and pushed Amelia’s hands away, saying, “I’m feeling better. I don’t think I’m out of the woods yet, because I’m still craving that awful spell, but if I die again, I don’t think it will be permanent. Nuva’s priests are known for their near-death experiences, after all, only for their death to occur when whatever task they’ve been assigned is complete.”

  “What did she ask you to do?” Marta inquired.

  Iris shook her head, “I’ve got no clue. The whole thing is like a dream and I can’t remember.”

  “Well, you’ve probably got another appointment in a couple days time.” Amelia suggested, “You can ask her then.”

  “Don’t remind me.” Iris cringed, “That was a very painful way to die.

  “By the way, where are we?”

  Amelia’s eyes went wide and she got to her feet as she ran for the witchpit, shouting, “Halfway to Black Palace and overdue for a turn!”

  The Queen was frustrated. She’d subtly interfered at a crucial moment in time, to get Marta to make the wrong decision, which had resulted in the death of Iris, but Nuva herself had stepped in!

  The Queen had long been at odds with the goddess of death and the afterlife, because raising the dead as zombies was a violation of her laws. It didn’t help the Queen’s case that she’d made her home base on the moon named after the goddess, to get easy access to new bodies for servants.

  That moon was a necromancer’s delight, due to its failed atmosphere. After a short while, all bodies interred there stopped decaying, because there was so little oxygen on the planet. Even centuries-old corpses could be raised, which was how she’d gotten most of the worker zombies on her ship, that handled all the dirty little background jobs.

  Nuva had tasked at least five prior priests with the elimination of the Queen in the past five-hundred years, but the Queen had eliminated them all. The only sure-fire way to kill them was total bodily destruction, because if there was even a remote possibility of coming back, they always did. The fact Iris had become a priestess only added to the urgency of eliminating the Blackwells.