Everything goes white.

Rafael flinches together as the almost empty glass bottle shatters against the wall, just next himself. The shards fall down to the ground in a noisy clamber, glistening with wet as they descend, much like the heavy rain pouring outside of the window. The fury of his father’s face is illuminated by the dim fire that burns low in the hearth. It is late in the evening, shortly before the fall of night.

He had known before coming inside that he was going to get yelled at. Rafael didn’t know, however, that his father would be drinking today. He hadn’t gotten drunk in a long time.

“You lost it?!” yells the man, rising to his feet. Even from across the room, Rafael can smell the acrid smell of burning present on his breath.

“Yes, father,” says Rafael, lowering his head apologetically, as the vividly swearing man approaches.

This was, of course, a lie. Rafael’s lowered eyes don’t look at his father, at the drunken man thundering towards him. His gaze, instead, shoots quickly to the side, to his younger sister, Nina, who is sneaking into the house from the window in the other room. In truth, she’s the one who lost it. She wasn’t even supposed to be outside to begin with this late in the day. But she wanted to explore together with him and Rafael is a good brother, he won’t let him hurt her.

The shadow looms over him.

Everything goes white.

“I’m sorry!” apologizes Nina as they walk out of the village and out of earshot, leaving in order to fulfill their chores. “I’m really sorry!” she says again, clearly meaning it given how she looks like she’s about to cry as she grabs his shoulders. Rafael winces, pulling back. His arm is broken, held in place with a crude sling that she had made out of sticks and some of her thread in the middle of the night. They couldn’t talk then. Their father would have heard them. “I’ll take care of your cutting every day, until you get better, I promise!” she says.

Rafael shakes his head, his long, black hair tied in a bun on the back of it with a band that she had sewn for him. He’s mad at her. Furious. None of this would have happened if she had just stayed home, if she hadn’t snuck out after him, if she hadn’t lost it. But even so, Rafael is a good brother. That’s the promise he made to his mother before the water took her. Even if it annoys him sometimes, the promise is impossible to break. Not because of some incredible integrity or sense of duty; he has neither of those in any significant amount. No, but because Nina looks exactly like her, from her hawthorn eyes, to her spindler’s fingers, down to her sharp nose, it was like looking at her ghost.

“Don’t worry,” smiles Rafael, pushing down the pain in his battered body. “I’ll manage somehow,” he smiles at his sister.

Rafael is a good brother.

Everything goes white.

*Thunk*

He didn’t manage. Rafael turns around, looking at his sister with the, far too large, axe in her hands, as she gives her all to split the wood like she had promised. In truth, she isn’t supposed to be splitting the wood at all. That’s his job. She’s just supposed to help him carry it back. But…

*Thunk*

Rafael had needed her help after all. One arm just isn’t enough to swing the axe that neither of them were big enough for. Feeling him watching, his sister turns his way and smiles at him. His eyes wander back towards the river and he stares down into it. They will be here for a long time today.

*Thunk*

He looks up to the sky. It looks like it's going to rain again soon. Another storm by the looks of it.

Everything slowly starts to go white, just as his eyes lower themselves back down again, having caught a glint of something silvery down in the water, in the very last ray of sunlight to come through the gathering clouds. An excited smile grows on his face. She’s going to be so happy! He found it!

Rafael is a good brother.

Water splashes all around her mud covered boots as Nina runs as fast as she can back to the village. The storm surges all around her, the world falling into anarchy. The trees alongside the muddy dirt path sway, but only ever in one direction as the strong wind forces their mighty frames to kneel. The entire forest looks like it’s about to snap over sideways. Rain pelts her face, awash with muck and grime like the rest of her body, like her dress, like her long, drenched raven-black hair.

Nina hurries, running as fast as she can back to the village to get help. A branch had fallen and thrown Rafael into the rushing waters of the river. All she can think about as she runs, tears streaming down her face, is how happy he looked for some reason in that last second.

Everything goes white.

Nina and the search-party find nothing. The water has taken him, like her mother.

Everything goes white.

Nina is grown now, close to becoming a woman. The smell of liquor has never left the house ever again since that night. No matter how often she opens the windows, no matter how she tries to care for her once violent, but now lifeless and numb father, bringing him healing teas that he never drinks and fragrant herbal breads that he never eats, the smell of the drink never leaves him and he never leaves the house. He simply sits there, catatonic, drunk, gurgling.

She hates him. Even now. Even after all of these years.

It’s his fault. If he hadn’t been such an animal, if he hadn’t hurt Rafael, they would have never been outside that late, when the storm arrived. She’ll never forgive him. She’ll never stop hating him. She’ll bring him food, she’ll bring him tea, because that’s what her mother had once asked her to do, before the water took her.

The last two things that the woman had said to the two of them. ‘Take care of your sister. Take care of your father.’

Nina promised she would, with all of her heart.

But now, Nina doesn’t know how much longer she can take it. Now that she is growing older, in the few moments of wakefulness that the gurgling creature sitting before her has, his dead eyes fall onto her body in ways that made her fearful and revolted.

Everything goes white.

Nina has taken to the drink as well. It’s all that she has had to numb herself, after her virtue was stolen. It is the only thing that helps her feel clean inside, even if only ever briefly. However, the drink makes it hard to hold her needles steady. Her work is suffering.

Frustrated, Nina looks around the table, wondering if there is someway to affix the long, black needles that she uses to her hands.

Everything goes white.

It is the middle of the night. Nina stands in front of the well. They had been warned about it often as children, apparently there were once deep underground channels with strong currents down below. But those had dried out a long time ago, along with the well. She can’t focus on anything else, other than it.

The drink doesn’t numb her anymore. It doesn’t quiet her mind and aching body anymore. She’s unclean. Impure. Befouled. Any dreams that she had are now long since gone. Any hopes that she had are now long since broken.

Thinking about her mother and brother, Nina steps into the darkness, hoping that it will make her clean again.

Everything goes white and this time, it stays that way.

Canta looks around the familiar plane, seeing the ball of prismatic color floating before himself. He assumes that’s Nina. But he turns his head and looks elsewhere, towards the empty expanse above him that stretches on for as far as the eye can see.

“You know this is bullshit, right?” he asks the void, holding his hand out and gesturing to the floating soul.

The void doesn’t respond.

“What is she supposed to have done? Honestly, she got the worst fate of them all! Why isn’t the dad here?” he asks, getting annoyed.

The void doesn’t respond.

“Hey!” yells Canta up at the nothing above him. “You fuck! Get your shit together and explain this!”

God, or whoever else Canta is hoping to speak to, doesn’t respond.

Canta sighs, having expected nothing less and returns his focus to the floating ball. He notices that it smells like alcohol here.

“I don’t want to go back,” says Nina, her light slowly dissolving into the form of a series of strings. The colorful, prismatic threads knot themselves together, as if set into place by an expert seamstress. The threads at the bottom of her body begin to decay, the burn working itself up her body, now that the ‘timer’ has started. Canta grumbles in annoyance, somebody was watching after all, apparently.

“Huh?” asks Canta.

“I don’t want to be reborn,” says Nina. “I want to stop.”

Canta lifts a finger, pointing at her. “Yeah? Nobody ever wants to be reborn. Suck it up.”

“I don’t want to be reborn,” replies Nina, dryly. Canta sighs, looking down at the burning threads of her body.

“Well… boy… do I have some news for you…” he mutters, shaking his head. “Look. Give it a shot. Maybe you’ll have more fun next time.” In truth, he doesn’t really even know what to say.

“I don’t want to be reborn,” replies Nina. “I don’t want to see him again.”

“I get it, don’t get me wrong, but uh… honestly, I don’t think you will. The universe is pretty strict about this stuff, apparently.” Canta points to the floor. “There’s no coming back from there.”

“What if I do though?”

“You won’t,” says Canta, fairly, but not entirely certain that that’s true, as he watches the burn rise to her knees. “Look, did you like… murder your father or something?” he asks idly, not thinking, trying to figure out what her sin could have been.

[Sin of Wrath]{Murder} : Incorrect

“Oh, fuck off!” yells Canta, pointing at the window that then vanishes a moment later. Nina starts burning faster, the smolder rising quickly to her hips, but she doesn’t fight it, she doesn’t plead with him. She’s ready to accept the void. Fair enough, as far as he sees it, he doesn’t really care what other people do with their existences.

But still, he’s not happy about being here and he wants to win one over on the cosmic system that had set all of this into motion. He doesn't really care about Nina. He cares about the 'win'.

He stares at her for a moment, thinking. “Don’t you want to see your mom and your brother again?” he asks. Nina looks up at him, but then lowers her eyes to the ground as if ashamed. “No.”

Canta narrows his eyes, watching as the threads of her chest start to become undone. He racks his brain, trying to think of something to win her over, if only for the sake of his own victory. His eyes light up as he finds his weapon, as devious as it is. “You made a promise,” says Canta, pointing at her. “Look, the old man isn’t coming back. Take it as an official statement,” says Canta, assuming that to be the case, given how strict everything seems to be. “But your mom and your brother are and so can you,” he says. “Clean slate. Clean body. Clean mind. Good as new.”

Those are lies too, of course, at least in the sense that he doesn’t know if any of those things are true. He’s just saying it so that she’ll agree.

Nina looks at him, ready to fight, but she closes her eyes and lets the burn grow faster. “The liver is a cleaning organ, you know?” she says.

“What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”

Nina shrugs and shakes her head. “Don’t drink too much, okay?”

Canta groans in frustration, watching her slip away piece by piece. She kept her promises, she didn’t try to take revenge despite clearly being justified. As far as he sees it, she has done nothing wrong in the least, save for some childhood blunders. But those don’t count. They better not.

That just leaves…

“Hey, is suicide against cosmic law or something?” he mutters to the void.

[Sin of Wrath]{Suicide} : Correct

- Led to 1 death

[Punishment] : DAMNATION

He sighs. Of course it is. The rules really are pretty rigid. Whoever made them must have been a real hard-ass. “So I have good news and bad news,” says Canta. “The good news is, you aren’t going to exist anymore. On the world.” Nina looks back up at him hopefully. “The bad news is, you’re going to exist in a worse place. Actually, probably the same place as your old man, now that I think about it.” He looks down at her suddenly terrified eyes and holds out his hands, she has nowhere to run now.

It’s time to spring the trap.

The fire rises up to her neck, ready to swallow the last of her essence. “Will it hurt?” she asks. “If I go back to living a new life. Will it hurt again? Like before?”

Canta reaches out for the bundle of strings that is the last half of her face. “It’s going to hurt in all sorts of new ways,” he answers, trying to be truthful at least here. “Fuck your family, take care of yourself this time,” says Canta, looking at her last remaining eye going wide.

[Sin Removed]

The sinner will be returned once more to the well of souls.

What remains of Nina freezes and then shatters apart in an instant, coming apart into a fine, misty particulate. Canta, before he even knows what he’s doing, lunges towards it with a hungry glare in his eyes.

Canta opens his eyes. The dead body of the creature he lays on top of, in the middle of the well, suddenly gives way as its rotting, wet meat begins to fall apart. He plummets downward instantly into the well, not seconds after returning to the conscious world. He screams as he falls down into the darkness, landing with a disgusting crack that breaks his bones and causes him to continue screaming for a little while longer.

He hears Alleluia’s worried voice calling from above. But then he hears her telling him not to scream so much.

But down here, deep in the darkness, he sees the other things laying here with him, carried here by a long since dried out underwater current. Canta stares at the skeleton of a woman in a dress. He stares at the skeleton of a boy with something in his hand.

Canta reaches out with his shaking fingers, grabbing the large silver locket from the smaller body and looks inside at the faded, washed out sketch of a woman, a man and their two children.

Rafael was a good brother.

{You are what you eat} [New professional ability] {Novice Tailoring}

Allows the creation and modification of simple fabrics and cloth materials