Page 100 of Tempt

Evidently, her classmates and Guide have resurrected the subject, too restless to delay. Wonder resigns herself to let them hash it out, however Envy’s growls rise another decibel and clash with Sorrow’s snort of derision, at which everyone shushes the pair. An ensuing scuffle implies that Andrew and Merry are attempting to corral the group outside, out of Wonder’s earshot.

At this rate, they shall misinterpret Wonder and Malice’s findings. Without her there to make sure, they might recall the facts wrong, mutilating and misrepresenting the details, thoroughly botching the legend. Won’t they?

In exchange for that text, Wonder has sacrificed love. If they hadn’t followed that trail, Malice would be alive.

But then, they wouldn’t have found the answer. His life had better not be in vain, starting with getting the particulars correct. Besides, he hates loose ends and inaccuracies.

Just like her.

Wonder checks the sky, assuring herself this will only take a moment. Leaning over, she toys with his golden curls, then kisses his lips. “I’ll be right back,” she promises. “Don’t go anywhere.”

She locates her friends in the two hundreds, in the mythology stacks. Envy and Sorrow have planted themselves at opposite ends of the space, wedging everyone else between them. Based on the would-be couple’s crossed arms, they haven’t taken the news well.

Anger had once made a pertinent point: Perhaps when more deities learn to love, fate will bridge with free will.

He’s right. Universal love is the answer. In all its guises and forms, in all its capacities and tropes, from each angle and root, it’s the ultimate inspiration.

The next question is this: Where does it start? How does it start? With whom?

Love and Andrew’s match had been the spark for revolution, which has since grown through Anger and Merry. And now, it thrives from the bond between a villainous outcast god and a wandering floral goddess.

How to proceed from there? That’s depends upon Envy and Sorrow.

According to this new legend, if two deities can choose love over lust, they’ll become a force of influence, along with those closest to them.

As members of the elite class, the first ring of emotions that has included love itself, the original five archers are a foundation. Initially, they’re the souls most capable of feeling love.

Envy and Sorrow are the only two remaining. If they can progress to something more meaningful, their relationship will seal that link.

Strangers to lovers, friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, allies to lovers.

It’s love from numerous angles and the final step to empowering their rebellious group, the compounding of which will create an awakening, one that will stimulate many to consider something remarkable.

They will begin to say,What if…

What if all deities can feel love? What if they aren’t so different from humans after all? What if they’re similar at heart? And what if that means they’re equal?

How will that inform fate and free will? How will that change the balance?

If enough immortals consider this, they might start to believe. And if they believe, the dynamics will shift, as will the roles and powers of all beings.

But will inspiration magically happen? Will people simply take action and thus change?

Or will Wonder’s class be obligated to solidify the inspiration somehow? Will they need to take one more cumulative step? What will that step be?

In the meantime, what if it still comes to battle?

That’s what they shall be ready for.

Harmony seeks to control the argument as voices collide, each person snapping out vital points. Andrew accuses Envy and Sorrow of being selfish. They accuse him of being a former mortal. Love bristles at them for insulting her beau, hence tasking Andrew to calm her down.

Merry whistles for them to stop, while Anger barks for them to be quiet. Both tactics work in tandem, cutting off the commotion.

Because free will is as messy as fate, Envy has one ultimate response. “It ain’t happening,” he riots. “Me and her? Ain’t happening outside of fucking.”

“You can say that again,” Sorrow grunts.

“For Fate’s sake, Merry,” Envy groans to the pouting, disappointed goddess. “Stop looking at me like that.”

---