Lac drew up short as she entered the loom room. Clo was standing next to the loom glaring at her.

“Care to explain this?” she asked pointing at the fabric. “What did you do?”

Lac’s eyes narrowed as she walked towards he angry sister. “What are you talking about?”

“I am talking about your prophet. His thread is fraying!” Clo again pointed at the cloth.

Lac looked at the thread and saw hair like pieces sticking out all around it. “It is fraying.” Lac poked at the thread with a finger. “So what?”

Clo stared blankly at her. “So what?”

“Yes, so what?” Lac repeated, as she looked at the thread. “He was poisoned and found out is family is a group of criminal psychopaths. He should be a little ragged.”

Clo grabbed Lac by the shoulders, and forced Lac to look at her. “That is not a little ragged, and you know it. He is about to break. I do not care if he is crazy. I do not even care if you goof off instead of supporting him. Yes Lac, Atr and I know.” Clo rolled her eyes. “But I do care if he dies before we are done with him.”

“I thought I was supposed to minimize interference,” Lac countered, pointedly looking away from her furious sister. It hate it when she gets like this.

“Minimize does not mean stop! Especially when he is very likely to hurt himself. Now stop being lazy and help your prophet.” Clo snapped roughly shoving the younger goddess roughly toward the door.

Once Clo’s grip loosened Lac raced through the doorway. In the hall, she could hear Atr asking if that was necessary.

Lac’s fists clenched as she heard Clo’s reply.

…

[Crestfall manor]

Olrich sat propped up in bed staring blankly at the door after Rechnel left. This is insane. It is completely insane.

The empty feeling in his chest seemed to grow larger, as he struggled to understand what Rechnel told him. The mysterious family wealth is from crime, and every family head got the position after killing all their siblings. The servants even take bets on who survives and for how long. This entire house is sick.

Olrich shuttered when he thought of the look on his mother’s face when she was watching him die. My family wanted me dead. My own parents wanted me dead.

No, Olrich corrected himself. Father tried to protect me. I cannot even remember his face, and thought he hated me. Olrich burred his face in his hands, as he recalled what Rechnel said about his father. He felt his stomach turn as he remembered how gleefully the butler described the way Olrich’s mother isolated his father, before murdering him and Toln’s mother.

The butler then went to great lengths explaining how Olrich was now the last of the direct line. The last one capable of uniting the family based on some old pagan oath.

The last. The words seemed to echo in Olrich’s mind. Maybe that was the goddesses plan. To pull this blight up by the roots. It is best if this cursed bloodline ends as soon as possible.

...

“What are you intending to do with that knife?” the words came from everywhere and nowhere. “What are you planning to do to my prophet?”

Olrich watched as the knife fell onto the blanket, over his lap. Almost unsure what happened, he stared blankly at his numb hands. Part of him wondered where the knife even came from, while another part screamed at him to pick it back up.

“What were you doing?” the goddess’s voice echoed in the room.

“I,” Olrich bit his tongue before he finished the lie. He knew exactly what he was doing. “I was trying to make it all stop. I have failed everyone around me. I…”

“Go on,” The goddess said, when Olrich started to trail off.

“The world would be better if I was gone. They said I was the last one. If I am gone then all this stops. The evil pact that holds this house together will break.” Olrich rambled and stared at the knife in his lap. “So many could be saved if I just was gone.”

“Oh, so this is for the people who will be saved?” Lac asked. “Are you saying it has nothing to do with your father?”

Olrich’s face fell into his hands, and he could almost feel the weight of his guilt on his shoulders grow. “It is all my fault. I thought he hated me when trying to save me killed him. I do not even remember the face of the one person who cared that I was alive. I know I need to only follow the path, but I just…” The words cut off as he sobbed.

“I see,” Lac said sighing. “The burden was too much. I can make it better. Would you like that?”

He was not in a state to process the words, but the softness of the tone cut through to him. Without thinking, he simple nodded, his face never leaving his hands. A split second later his body shuddered as he felt a vice like pressure trying to crush his very essence.

Through his fingers he saw a glowing arm reaching into his chest. Pain washed over him as the arm twisted inside him. Waives of pain washed over him as he felt himself ripped apart. A moment later, Lac’s fist came out of his chest and the pain faded away.

Olrich’s hands quickly ran over his chest searching for the hole.

“It should feel better now,” Lac’s words made him freeze. “Think of your father, how do you feel?”

Sad, Olrich blinked, and caught himself. He felt empty, but the feeling no longer seemed ready to consume him. The guilt, no longer seemed an impossible weight on his shoulders. In fact, he felt nothing. “I do not, feel anything. I was sad. “

“Yes, you were,” Lac’s words were soft. “Now, how do you feel about what the barony does?”

Again Olrich was met with an empty feeling. “I do not, feel anything. I know it is criminal, and wrong, but I feel nothing.”

“Good,” Lac replied moving the fingers of her fist as if rolling something around. “It is criminal and wrong. But do not waste your time on such thoughts. Laws are for those subject to the power of kings not my sisters and I. It may be wrong for others, but all that serves the patterns is right. it will serve the a greater purpose.”

“You want me to use the barony’s wealth to help return the world to the path?” Olrich hazarded.

“Every piece of the barony’s criminal enterprise shall serve the path.” Lac replied, flatly. Then more softly she added, “You must see it grow. The nexuses in the great pattern are quickly approaching. You must be ready to aid the pattern at that time.”

Olrich nodded, slowly. He knew this is not what he had learned, or even knew to be true, but he felt it was right. Everything she said felt right. He could not bring himself to imagine doing anything other than what she wanted. For the first time, since he heard her voice he looked up.

The goddess stood an arm’s length away, her form no longer blindingly bright. She smiled as her eyes met his, then she disappeared.

[Outside the capital]

Lac stood on the hill, overlooking a road leading toward the king’s city. In the dim light, she watched a carriage rolling toward the wall of the city. Even at this distance she could see Kao lounging on the roof of the carriage, listening to the conversation happening inside.

Lac scoffed and took piece of thread no more than a hair thick and tied it around her wrist. Her fingers ran gently over the thin strand, and she felt warmth radiating back. We are nothing alike Clo. Kao follows her toy around like a pet. I have my prophet’s heart wrapped around my wrist.