Author's Note: "Toofy" is essential reading for this one.
---
Arina groaned audibly as she saw the waving bush of golden foxtails in her antechamber. She held out her hand, scythe and symbol of office appearing, as she approached the unpredictable and dangerous goddess that so endlessly fucked with them all.
Mischief laughed loudly as she turned around, "Been a little while. I must say, you've got cuter, Death."
"What the fuck do you want?" Arina complained, "I'm already under house arrest because of you."
The orange eyes turned cold, "No. You're not. You're under house arrest because the fucking succubus and fucking neko, were supposed to die. You saved Saia and Ninaein, and now you have to pay the fucking price."
"Fuck off." Arina sneered.
Mischief gave a small chuckle, "Oh, so fearless. Still. I love it. That's why I let Tammy save you... But that was a while ago. Things change. I thought I'd find you on my side of the battlefield. But you sided with the green witch. Not your most intelligent choice."
"You can't even get Luna to side with you, Mischief." Arina rolled her eyes, "And you two had a species together. So, how about you either piss off, or tell me what you want?"
"A second chance. For a mortal."
Arina looked at her in confusion, "Eh... Didn't you just vote with the others to imprison me for doing exactly that?"
The foxgirl laughed, leaning against the wall and putting a hand beneath her skirt. "I did. This time would be different. The Betrayers will do what I want, because it's chaotic. The Order will agree to let it happen, because it will come with rules and compromises. They'll get a chance to get their own champion out of this."
Arina sneered at the uncouth display, "I'm listening."
"We take the souls who could have become champions, if they didn't get caught up in Toofy's tale, and we offer them resurrection. A chance to return to life." Mischief let out a soft moan, "Only catch is... They have to kill the others. Everyone who dies... Loses their soul. You'll get their potential, get stronger. But they won't return to paradise. They'll just be gone."
The goddess of death winced, "The others have already agreed."
"Mmm." The orange eyes lit up in amusement, "Of course they have. Can you imagine if Greenie got Xivian back? Or Daen? And, of course, everyone wants a chance to make Kaden owe them. He's worse than fucking Toofy. Ooh... The chaos if the emperor returned... Fuck. That'd be fun."
Arina ground her teeth, "I don't want their essence. I've got no reason to let this happen."
"Meirakeillian."
The goddess felt her stomach drop, "You... You would let her compete?"
"Of course! She's my favourite. There would be no greater chaos than if the Heir of Irrlichdan got a chance to actually flex just how fucking strong she is." Mischief laughed loudly.
The Golden Kitsune had no real loyalties. Arina sometimes forgot it, as the fox led the Betrayer Gods in the war, but Mischief had only one goal. To enhance herself. She didn't care about the war beyond the effect it had on the mortal realm. Mischief wasn't interested in winning, she just wanted to have her own fun.
Arina sighed heavily, "Tell me about the selections."
---
A woman with black hair, black eyes, and twin scars around her wrists lay in a field of wheat. She relaxed, a quiet smile on her face, as she watched the gathering crows circling overhead. She smiled into the face of her punishment.
Death hadn't come with paradise for Efina.
Her soul had been claimed by the goddess that she had betrayed. The Golden Kitsune took great joy in choosing each moment of her eternity. It looked like, today, the fox would be feasting on her liver, again. Or maybe her eyes.
Efina could fight back. She still had her magic. She could fight, and if she survived until sundown, then the goddess, in her mercy, would grant the heretical priestess a reprieve until the next morning. This subtle cruelty, of letting Efina have some hope everyday... That was her true punishment. Hope lost, time and time again, but always regained, was a harsher thing than any other possible torture. Drowning, burning, beheading... All those things could grow stale and hurt less if she knew they would continue, and that they were inevitable.
Yet, introduce a little hope, and you brought chaos into the mix.
The priestess smiled, and a tear slipped down her cheek. She knew that she would try and accept the punishment. She also knew she wouldn't be able to. She knew that she would fight... And she would die... As she had every time since she had arrived here.
She'd survived three times, in however long this eternity had been grinding on for. In an infinity of sunrises, she had escaped her punishment and found her true punishment, only thrice. The bitter experience of a peaceful night, knowing that the morning was fast approaching.
She sighed and stood up, as the swirl of crows started to reach a crescendo. The ex-priestess lifted her hands gently, and the wheat around her withered and died. She ripped the life from it, drawing it in to herself, burning her corrupted soul, twisting it into something misshapen and horrifying.
The more magic she drew on, the harder it was to maintain her pleasant appearance. The more the body tried to reflect the darkness of her raging soul. Her teeth clumped, cracked, and shifted. Her hair frayed and fell, as her skin pocked and sagged.
Her beauty was temporary, maintained by her magic and ability to distort the flesh. Yet, in battle she couldn't afford the expense and became the hag that the stain on her soul had transformed her into.
Efina cackled darkly as she held the pitiful amount of magic, and screamed at the sky, "Want me, goddess? Come and get me!"
"Ew." A voice said behind her, "Gross. No, I really don't want you. By the Green Goddess, Lady Efina, you've really let yourself go, haven't you?"
She turned in surprise, to see a woman in a maid's outfit, wielding a scythe. Their appearance was gentle and kind, were it not for two things. The hands were worn, from heavy manual labour, a callous near to the thumb from sweeping the weapon around. Then, there were the eyes. Cold, judgemental, and empty.
She struggled for a moment, transmuting back to her old self, and gave a small curtsy, "Goddess."
"Ew." Arina repeated, "Gods, I wish I couldn't see your soul. Fuck, you kinda make me want to throw up. Eugh. Let's get this over with. I have an offer for you."
"More hope to take from me, goddess?" Efina said with distrust.
The goddess of death glared at her, "If it were my choice, I'd skip straight to obliterating your soul. Gods, you should not exist. Just... Eugh. However, a deal has been struck. It is an offer. You can choose to remain here. But... Mischief organised the deal. I wouldn't choose to remain her plaything, if I were you."
The priestess nodded slowly, "I am following, your grace."
"You have been chosen as champion by the Dark God, Eluthei. You can fight for her. If you succeed, you will be sworn to her, and be returned to the mortal realm, to serve." Arina said stiffly, "If, however, you fall before your enemies do, you will be returned to the void. You will cease to be. I'd say for most, that would be a disincentive. But you don't have much to lose, do you?"
