Strength.
In ancient times, that was often all that mattered. Everything else came riding behind it once the world understood. Prestige. Loyalty. Respect. Fame. Without strength, the rest sat on thin parchment strung above a steaming pot of water. That had been the rule of life.
So to feel the new power within her made her ecstatic. Never in life had she felt the pinnacle of this strength, even in her prime years. Though it was more potent in Agartha, her summoning to Chaldea put her mind at further ease. A new height had been reached, and her chances and desires of redemption glimmered brighter because of it.
…But with power comes a price, and this gift carried an often-inconvenient condition for Penthesila.
At first, she didn't think anything of it. The blinding rage and anger whenever Achilles came to mind felt absolutely natural; It was her fiery grudge for being horribly wronged in those final moments. Yet, when that madness had seized full control and attacked Gudao outright… Penthesilea began to second guess. Her offended rationale wanted to question him for his deceit. Instead, to her horror, her madness and body questioned with violence.
It had been the first of many rude awakenings. It took a day, but she quickly came to guess her mad enhancement wasn't as 'tame' as many complimented. She'd made quite a few enemies already, often when seemingly natural frustration let madness seize the reins. She was lucky some were so patient and understanding for her condition.
Even the simple thought of removing the madness through the offered potion set her mind ablaze with incredulous anger.
Though her rationale understood their request, her heart could not separate grudge from wrath; The offense to her pride was unfathomable to them. In the end, she decided her madness was not a liability, but a blessed boon. Anything and everything that could help her achieve vengeance became an appreciated necessity, where cogent thoughts were swayed to the back seat. The only times her reasonable mind could bargain through the influential madness and rage was when it agreed with the trigger.
It was a rarity, but his voice was all it took.
Her heart beat furiously in anticipation. Her mind flared with memories of that final moment, coloring the madness in her eyes. Her body was ushered forward by blinding rage as she bee-lined to the training grounds in spirit form. She was an unseen bullet piercing the hardened citadel. As the world rushed by, her offended mind married the maddened focus for the first time.
Penthesilea could feel him. It was him. There was no doubt in her mind this time; Nothing that would make her wary now! If she couldn't muster the sanity to consider the potion… If she couldn't stay in Chaldea, then at the very least, she would grant her wish with her own hands!
"Achilles…!" she growled eagerly as she rocketed past Chaldea's armored doors. Her mind was hopefully adamant. Her madness was impatient. They were greeted by the harshness of winter, that which made her call the sparring session but hours before. If her muscles hadn't remained warmed up, her madness nourished them with promising wrath.
The sides of her vision were a black blur among the blizzard haze. It was an old-time movie, complete with the silence of anticipation where only the pounding of her heart could be heard. Then, she landed among the plateau, but roared forward towards his signature.
Her mind noticed he didn't move. His growing silhouette was calm; It angered her further. Was he underestimating her again? Though her mind pondered logically, like a general analyzing the battlefield, her madness cared not. It swung her legs forward. It summoned her weapons. It breathed death when her agreeing mind urged caution.
In the ensuing disagreement in her mind, both madness and rationale failed to see Achilles disappear with blinding speed.
Yet it was that first act which wedded her spiritual unity. "ACHILLES! FOR MY PRIDE, YOU WILL DIE HERE!"
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Fragment 98: Weight of Hubris
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Cling! Clang! Clash!
He was as fast as she remembered. Perhaps faster. He'd appear for the briefest of moments, go for the attack, but she'd manage a quick deflect. Her madness-sharpened instincts let her keep up. She could do it, but first she needed to stop him. This rider needed to stop dancing around her… Taunting her with that focused expression! He didn't even say a word to her since they started!
'This arrogance…!' Achilles had always been like that. Even watching him from afar, gauging how she'd fair against him, Penthesilea could see his blinding pride. That sense of invincibility for all his gifts and blessings was infuriating. Yet, it had been exciting. The thought of capping her life of hard work with his defeat as the pinnacle? There were few other achievements for an ancient warrior to desire.
Fate had other plans that day, but her newfound madness reassured things would end differently this time. They had to. To her delight, her next furious, instinctual move ensured just that. With a quick turn, and a flick of her wrist, her weapon was a blur. It was faster than she'd ever seen, yet it carried the weight of a meteor.
Time almost seemed to slow as she marveled as it plowed the falling snow out of its way. It struck against the summoned spear, but her chained mace was not her blades from Troy. The spear failed to deflect it, and the chain swung around its crossguard like ravenous maw. The ball curled around swiftly, and Penthesilea eagerly milked the look of shock on Achilles' expression. That's what she wanted to see! It kindled her anger and fanned the wrath which seeped from growling lips.
Yet, her madness was listening to battle-harded instinct. United in rationale and madness for a single focus, Penthesilea couldn't let another second slip by. This was the golden opportunity; He was fast, but he wouldn't abandon his spear to her current vice!
So she acted. She moved with unbelievable speed; Maybe she'd exceeded her parameter for this decisive strike. The other end of her chained weapon was a blur. Her quaking vision was red with focus, but it only grew more saturated. Her silent focus only broke when the vicious, rounded maul slammed into its target in an explosion of red. "DIE ACHILLES!"
Achilles' anguished scream was gasoline on the flames of hope. He'd leapt up to dodge; She couldn't kill him with this move. He was still far quicker than her, but she'd hoped for it. It answered. It wouldn't kill him, but it mattered as the bloodied remains of his lower leg coated the falling snow crimson. The hit to ensure her victory had landed… She'd shattered his heel completely!
Penthesilea could have laughed. She didn't. She only growled with focus, even as the injured Achilles untwisted his spear and bolted away in but a fleeting moment; He was fast, but no longer as fast as he could be. If she damaged the heel, his speed was crippled. She'd outright eviscerated it. This was a far better outcome than she imagined it to be!
Victory was assured, yet her mind sensed something was… terribly off.
It wasn't his agonized expression that did it either; Her madness milked that sight. Logic focused elsewhere. He was easily faster than her… He should have been able to dodge her violent swing. Why did he try to counter and get his spear stuck? Clearly he'd been surprised but… No. Had he intended to take a hit?
Her mind urged her body to wait and question, but it wouldn't listen. It listened to instinct and fighting experience. But, again, to Penthesilea's aggravation, her madness plotted the course. Nothing her madness wouldn't agree with was lent an ear. Trapped behind the maddened tendrils of tunneling vision, her logical mind could only try to ponder… yet even that grew painful. Hazy too.
Like static, the madness grew overwhelming. Her thoughts were failing to complete. Instinct and blind lunacy demanded her cooperation. Suddenly, her thoughts and rationale drowned in a growing sea, even as Penthesilea's sanity struggled to retain even an ounce of influence. Nothing listened. No matter how much she yelled at herself, her body moved on its own to her heart's overwhelming desire.
And so, she charged the bloodied rider instead of questioning him. Her body swung viciously and growled when her weapon cratered the ground and shook the mountain. Penthesilea could only watch through reddened, cracked vision as her wish played out. Achilles, with a look of frustrated concern, could only do what he could on one leg to dodge strike after vicious strike from the maddened berserker. His only thrusts and swings were panicked attempts to deflect. It was almost pathetic to watch.
With only a stump of a leg past his thigh, this was not the battle Penthesilea wanted. Or was it? Her heart and body, enticed by her madness, fell prey while her mind watched in disgust. She wanted to defeat Achilles and settle her grudge… but there was no pride or satisfaction to be found in this battle.
She wanted to win against him at his best! He wasn't even fighting back properly! His will to fight seems to-!
"WHY ARE YOU RUNNING, COWARD!? FIGHT ME AND DIE!" Her madness translated her hopes differently. "STOP RUNNING AND DIE!"
"I won't die here!" he roared back with renewed focus in his eyes, even as his bloodied stump of a leg dripped to color the snow. Those had been his first words to her since he arrived, yet all it did was send her madness into a frenzy. Static-filled and pained, she couldn't think of anything else.
"WHO SAID YOU HAD A CHOICE!?" Her next strike nearly cracked his skull in, but he'd dodged out of the way. Again.
He continued to run, and her attacks grew wilder. The Training Grounds began to resemble once verdant fields pounded by artillery. Her bombardment only continued as she felt herself growing faster and more desperate to land a hit. Her madness lacked finesse, but her mind couldn't think properly as the suffocating tendrils chained her down.
Her embattled mind was only given a brief breath when a wild, frenzied strike grazed Achilles' opposing arm. Penthesilea felt herself grin as her weapon passed through the red cloud where his hand had been. He yelled in pain. She roared in anger. "YOUR DEATH WILL BE PATHETIC! IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT!? I THOUGHT YOU WERE A HERO, ACHILLES!?"
"I AM!" he roared back through his pain as the ground erupted beside him. The explosion shook the earth, and the roar of a growing avalanche echoed from a nearby pinnacle. Yet despite the battle… despite the roar of the berserker and the fracturing world, Achilles still didn't strike back again. "That's why… I can't die here! I won't!"
"YOU WILL, ACHILLES!" Her mind wanted to think. Did he want… Talk? Set… rules for duel… hit landed wrong…
Logic failed. Rationale failed to bloom among the crippling static and groans of swirling madness in her mind. Everything felt dark and hazy, save for the crimson sight laid before her like a horror movie. One where she could do nothing but watch as madness ushered her body forward… Ushered her to continue a battle she could never feel proud of!
Achilles was horribly maimed. He wasn't fighting back! This wasn't the even fight she wanted but… No, she did want this, but not like this! How would this make her look!? She was a dignified Queen of the Amazons, but this was not how vengeance should have played out. No one could bless this as right!
Yet, no matter how much she yelled from the suffocating cloud of madness, her body and heart long abandoned reason for desire. She wasn't even sure how long passed… Ten minutes? Only a minute? With their inhuman speed and power, how long had this torture gone on for? When would it end?
In the bloody haze and flurry of attacks, she got her answer. With instinctual finesse from a life of battle-conditioning, wrath created a new opening. Achilles swung his spear to deflect an incoming maul. She'd grabbed it by its sharp blade, uncaring for the blood that seeped from her fingers when it slid but a fraction of its length; Her iron grip held it. Achilles was forced to surrender his spear in order to leap over a sweep of her attack.
Penthesilea's body followed. After leaping up, she sent a vicious, stomping kick right into Achilles' chest. She heard the bones snap like old wood. Bloodied vision grew vibrant with speckles of coughed blood. The spirit in his eyes vanished as he was sent hurdling towards the ground like a comet. In an explosion of white, he vanished upon impact. She landed just before the cloud, but her mind ushered her forward. Her instincts rested on razor wire, primed for a final strike if necessary.
It seemed Penthesilea would, even as her disgusted mind watched incredulously at her growing atrocity.
Among the fading haze, Achilles, bloodied and likely on his last breaths, was struggling to crawl away. He looked like so many fallen among the graveyard beneath Troy's walls… Desperate. Clinging to life. That was a sight she never expected from this man. He tried to push himself away from her steady, angered advance, all while his eyes stared.
His other leg was mangled now too. She'd done a perfect number on him, to the point he could only gape at her in horror. Terror. The great Achilles, openly dismayed at his imminent fate, with… a desperate, pleading in his eyes... Pleading...?
'Achilles. Desperate?' Her fractured mind could only make the briefest of thoughts among the shackling static. Her madness cared for nothing but what crawled away as she felt the grip on her weapons tighten like her grit teeth. "ARE YOU ABOUT TO BEG FOR YOUR LIFE!? WHAT WEAKNESS! YOU WISH FOR YOUR DEATH TO BE THIS PATHETIC!?"
"…It… wasn't… supposed to…" his mumbled, pained, agonized voice was so shaken and quiet; Far from the Achilles she'd ever seen. She yelled at herself to stop. She wanted to understand what was happening! To think! Why couldn't she have control over how her wish was fulfilled!?
Achilles coughed blood which marred his petrified face further. She thought she even saw the first glints of tears... Tears? From Achilles? "…Please…! I-I can't…! My family...! And you'll-!"
"YOU PLEAD FOR MERCY!? YOU SHOULD HAVE FOUGHT BACK IF YOU DIDN'T WANT TO DIE!" Her madness was a forceful god. Like an apex of ecstasy she wanted no part of, Penthesilea's sound mind was strung along. She would be forced to watch a grizzly execution as she began spinning one of the weapons in her hand. Like a hellish windmill, it roared above the blizzard as the speechless Achilles struggled to scamper away. She screamed for herself to stop; She didn't. "DIE, ACHILLES! DIE FOR WHAT YOU DID TO ME!"
Her weapon swung forward towards the grief-stricken Achilles.
"PENTHESILEA! STOP!"
Clang! It wasn't fated to land.
The ground exploded with the vicious impact of her thundering blow, but far from her target. Achilles had vanished from her reddened sight, but her binding madness only yelled furiously as the veil of white grew thin. Despite the lashing tendrils in her vision, her shackled mind gasped with relief. It didn't mean the weeds of mounting dread didn't take root as she gazed towards Achilles' savior.
Penthesilea had unknowingly become one of the first to see a truly outraged Prince Hector. With his grip tight on his glowing, golden spear, he snarled towards her as he became Troy's insurmountable bastion. Yet this time, those walls shielded the injured Achilles, whose spiritual presence grew weaker by the second. Nevertheless, despite her pleas and begs for her body to stop, wrath roared out. "OUT OF THE WAY, HECTOR, OR DO YOU WISH TO DIE TOO!?"
"Get ahold of yourself, Penthesilea!" he yelled back. Though he was far softer compared to her maddened roar, it screeched in her mind. "This has gone far enough! This isn't what you want!"
"THIS IS WHAT I WANT!" No…. No it wasn't! Not like this! 'Stop! Stop at once! Listen to me!'
Her mind screamed desperately, yet her arm already began to swing her chosen weapon for a new strike. No… No, she couldn't attack Hector! She owed him so much for everything he's done, then and now! A debt needed to be repaid-! "THEN DIE TOO, HECTOR."
Though the blizzard seemed to lighten, her nightmare only grew. Her body moved to swing the attack. She yelled at it to stop. She clawed desperately against her madness to listen. She wanted to scream at Hector to run, but she couldn't. He wouldn't. The prince held firm with spear at the ready.
As she swung her weapon, a bright flash came from her peripheral. Her muscles tightened instinctively. Barely a blink later, she'd ducked as a streak of azure slammed into her weapon, sending the mace head careening into the ground with a deathly explosion. Her grip had loosened on it, but her head whipped towards the new offender. That's when she felt the tendrils quiver for the first time.
How could they not when they spotted the furious Artemis? The blessed, beloved goddess of her sisters and people… who now glare with outright damnation from her lofty perch. It was as if the storm was parting at the wrath of Olympus. "Enough, Queen Penthesilea!"
Penthesilea's body hesitated; Her mind cried out in growing agony. Artemis was more unusual and quirkier than she could accept, but she was still her goddess. She, who blessed her people and inspired them to greatness. And now the queen earned her wrath. Yet, her madness still growled towards the new offender, wanting to lash out.
Her mind felt weak. Bombarded by a cacophony of growing grief, guilt, and desperation, she tried to claw through the madness. She needed to seize the reins and stop the nightmare, but her anger only roared back. 'Our wish is almost complete! Achilles is on his last legs! We will win! We will kill him before-'
'At what cost!? This victory is pyrrhic! It isn't blessed!' This was worse than Achilles dragging Hector's body around Troy. Yet, her madness wouldn't dissipate. It never listened. She was a slave to this newfound power that could grant her wish, but for it to do it like this… How did she ever thought this could be acceptable!? She didn't want this! All she desperately wanted now was for this to sto-!
"Halt any hostilities, Penthesilea!" Before her body could act again, the queen felt it. That surge of crippling energy flow that binded her greater than the madness itself. Blinded rage cursed at her sudden immobility, but her mind could have fallen to its knees to plead gratitude. The grip on her chain fell loose. Her muscles fell frozen as if Medusa gazed upon her.
'Thank you…' her mind breathed. It was answered by another surge, then another. Three in total forced her body to fall still. Though she was relieved, her mind fell guilty at the knowledge three command seals were burned to stop her rampage… But now she could truly think. Yet her madness still raged against her mind.
It wanted to be freed of its new shackles; She wanted to be free of it.
There was yelling somewhere in her cloudy vision. In her renewed war against her outraged condition, she couldn't hear the mantra of a noble phantasm activating. Its activation did ring true. "Nightingale Pledge!"
Frozen, she couldn't see the giant ethereal nurse appear behind her. The phantom, wielding a sword of promised salvation, swung her blade down. It passed straight through Penthesilea, but its effect was instantaneous. Her madness roared in pain, yet it still gnawed at her mind. It failed to keep its fierce grasp on her chained weapons. Her grip loosened, and her mind felt a surge of energy powerful enough to force it to dematerialize. 'Keep fighting! Keep fighting! He is about to die!'
'This is not the victory I wanted!' her mind roared back against her insanity. The cloudy vision was weakening. Whatever that noble phantasm did, her mind found a growing edge over the violent madness. With despair and guilt as her fists, she slashed, clawed, and punched her way to the reins. With frustration and disgrace as her feet, she charged through her own recoiling madness. It was a battle she never imagined she'd fight, but it was one she needed to win in this instant.
And Penthesilea did.
Her clouded vision slowly lost its red tint. Though muscles stiff, her body writhed and growled as her sight grew clearer. She felt the familiar sensation of control over herself. The binding madness' shackles cracked and buckled as it roared under her ravaged mind's superiority. 'Achilles! Kill Achilles!'
She didn't listen. With breathing heavy and eyes closed, she forced the madness down for the first time; The victory was bittersweet. The madness clawed from within, her source of mental power grew rampant. As the overwhelming grief and shame threatened to empty her stomach, sounds came to life as a hopeful distraction.
Penthesilea didn't need to open her eyes to hear the mounting chaos around her. Hearing Hector's roar again made her shiver with shame, even if she wasn't the target. "YOU IDIOT! YOU UNBELIEVEABLE MORON! WHY DID YOU THINK THIS WAS A SMART IDEA!?"
"I'm… sorry… this wasn't... what I…" Achilles' voice. It never sounded so… broken before. In her lucid state, she could feel the emotion latched onto that weak sound. Though part of her feared what may happen, her mind commanded the body to open her eyes and look. With the first glance, she felt her madness flare for a counterattack.
But it remained suppressed. The sight before her tripled her guilt and shame; Its weight alone silenced the madness within, and she didn't care for why or how. Only that it did, so she could see the consequences of her rabid actions. As she gazed forward, her first clear thought and sight was Hector's disappointed gaze aimed her way.
He turned back to Achilles without a word. None would have echoed over the terrible, shivering wails of Jack and Nursery Rhyme. Clutching onto Achilles' good arm, their eyes leaked waterfalls only rivalled by Atalanta. Though reluctant, she and Chiron tried to gently coax the children away so Nightingale, Mia, Irisviel, and Anishka could stabilize the dying rider.
"NO! NOOO!" It worked about as well as anyone could expect as Jack screamed through her tear. "NO! M-Mommy! I wanna help! I w-wanna help Daddy!"
"Let the others, Jackie… Please, Jackie…" Atalanta whispered quietly as she held the frantic assassin in her arms. "He'll make it… He's Achilles…"
"I'm… sorry…" Achilles groaned out through bloodied lips and shut eyes. As tears slipped from his eyes, he forcefully mumbled more she couldn't hear. Nightingale shot a quick, stern gaze at him, but quickly continued to suture his stomach at blinding speed while Anishka and Mia focused on stopping his bleeding leg. Penthesilea had to wonder if the master's guilty expression was as potent as her own. She could see it so well…
…She could see everything so unusually well. It was then the queen realized the world seemed brighter than the morning blizzard would have allowed. As she stared quickly above, she finally saw the unusual spell that was cast. Like a shielding dome, a barrier of golden light illuminated the area and halted the blizzard's veil. Only a few snowflakes fell now, but the sight she saw around her was anything but serene.
The number of servants standing ready sent a chill down her spine. In her quick glance around, for what her stiff neck would allow, she could see the countless angry glares aimed her way. Her mind shook, and her knees would have buckled by the judging stares from so many heroic spirits. Two dozen, three dozen… At least every peacekeeper was present, and more were still arriving. Chaldea had reacted fast and angrily.
She didn't linger much on any battle-clad servant; Any may be her executioner. Gilgamesh and Enkidu stared with outright disdain that felt like hungry flames upon her neck. King Hassan's icy stare could have stopped her breathing alone. Da Vinci's dissatisfied frown… Hijikata's disgusted scowl… So many present looked like they wanted a piece of her, and she couldn't bring herself to blame them. Even she wanted to thrash the madness that still screamed bloody rampage in her ears.
Her first and only perceived reprieve was when she spotted Gudao and Gabrielle, whose uniforms looked as hastily thrown-on as Anishka's. They gazed at her with disappointment and frustration, but she wondered if it was aimed at themselves as much as her. Either way, Penthesilea's heart sank at the realization she'd let them down terribly. She'd hurt them in another way, and once was already unforgivable for a servant.
"Hoy… Masters. Da Vinci. I don't think we need a trial for this." Hijikata grunted out as he began stepping towards her. Though she didn't see it in her peripheral, she heard the loud cling of his katana unsheathing. "Achilles is on death's door. It's only right we set the example by sending her through first."
Okita, though disappointed, gulped and yelled. "Hijikata-!"
"No, Okita!" He roared back at the Peacekeeper Captain, making her flinch. "We've been too nice! Far too lenient! Order was challenged!"
"I agree." Gilgamesh judged with crossed arms. Penthesilea stared over the distance, right into his dismissive eyes as he scoffed. "Chaldea will lose nothing of value. But maybe the curr's final words will be interesting. Well? Do you have any while you have the ear of I, the King?"
Though the command seals held her back from anything aggressive, she could talk. That didn't mean she could. As she gazed to her angered goddess, the disappointed Leonidas, the others… Her mind was too shell-shocked to speak. It was too overwhelmed by the agonizing grief and guilt that choked her throat.
'What could I say…? What could anyone say…?' This was it. Without any doubt… Penthesilea's fate was sealed, and no one was going to be able to save her from it. After what her crushing madness compelled her to do, she'd accomplished nothing but-
"She still has until this afternoon to decide." Gabrielle's comment made Gilgamesh turn to her with incredulous fury. Still, she stood her ground and glared back at him. "That's the ultimatum we gave her! She drinks the potion, or she needs to leave!"
"How ridiculous can you be!?" Hijikata snapped back. Penthesilea turned to see he was but a few paces away with his katana ready, yet his scowl stared towards the feisty master. "She's broken a cardinal rule of Chaldea! Achilles nearly died today, and you still say we give her a chance!?"
"Her mad enhancement isn't as lenient as yours!" someone dared to snap back in Penthesilea's defense. Romulus stepped out of the way for Caligula, who stared towards Hijikata with his red eyes; Penthesilea paused in wonder. "Let your eyes see for themselves! Look at her face! Does that look like someone who had a choice? I'd argue she was as cursed as I once was! She never held a true chance!"
Gabrielle gazed to the queen, and the Amazon fell dumbstruck at her pleading stare. "I… It's that madness that was stopping you, right!? You want to drink the potion, don't you!? Please tell us you reconsidered!"
In truth, she never had a chance to consider correctly. Every thought of Achilles and her grudge caused it to flare up; It did just now. Her madness recoiled at the thought and roared at her mind to deny, but with all the guilt and despair flooding her psyche, she would sooner collapse of the self-inflicted trauma than buckle to it again… In this moment, at least. With the window, she finally got to consider the actual decision without succumbing to binding madness.
But what was there to consider about it? Her current grief said it all. The resentment around her only reinforced the obvious. Even more so, nearly everything she'd just witnessed herself do, shackled and binded while madness steered her outrageously… No. This power to defeat Achilles was useless if it meant this was what followed in its wake.
Finally, with the strength to speak, she opened her mouth. Gilgamesh didn't care as he scoffed at her, "It's too late for that. She chose her fate. We'll find better servants who can cooperate. The throne is far from empty."
"No! Everyone deserves a chance to stay!" Quetzalcoatl countered as she arrived. Still, more were arriving as they spoke, and Penthesilea felt the suffocating shame drown her further; More were seeing this now… the results of her desire.
But a part of her quietly thanked those who still believed in her. Caligula declared again, "Her madness prevented her from deciding! I say let her speak now while she's in control!"
"She's had over a day to do so!" "Let her stay!" "She looks lucid enough! I don't believe the madness stopped her decision!"
"She already had a chance!" "Why the hell did Achilles come out of hiding!?" "You must be blind!" "Look at her just standing there! She decided to do this! It's obvious!"
From all around, arguments erupted. The unity she'd once glimpsed when she arrived seemed to fracture and crack across the Training Grounds… all because of her. She glanced over to the unconscious Achilles, but quickly turned away upon feeling the solar flare that was Atalanta, Artemis, Jack, and Nursery Rhyme's collective glare; They may have attacked her if not for other servants holding them back.
Her breathing grew rampant, and though she wanted to speak, she couldn't bring herself over the growing chaos of discord and- "ENOUGH! ALL OF YOU!"
Penthesilea's head, like many others, snapped towards the furious roar of Hector. Making his way towards her, with grip on his spear tight, part of her wondered if he'd be the one... The ally she'd failed to save would give her a mercy killing; Her madness within writhed at the thought of demise without fulfillment. She cared not as she gazed into the firm, powerful expression of the lancer, who stared around at the now silent crowd. He even met Gilgamesh's offended glare without pause before turning back to her.
The rage was gone. His gaze was filled with as much concern and disappointment as belief, much like his voice. "I believe Queen Penthesilea has yet to answer in this rare gap. And we will let her answer."
To her surprise, she watched as Hector casually reached into a pouch on his belt. He extracted a small bottle that glowed with yellow hues and presented it to her clear as day. She stared at it, then to him as he nodded. "If you don't wish to say anything, there's something you can do instead."
Penthesilea glanced to the bottle. She paused, but Hector was quick to fill it before it grew suspicious. "It's a temporary suppressant. Da Vinci thought of it last night and Paracelsus finished it an hour ago. I was going to wait for you to wake up… Offer it to you as a trial run in hopes you'd see the benefits of ridding this madness."
She paused again. In that time, the thoughts that swirled outnumbered the servants surrounding her. Would her lifelong grudge disappear if she took it? Would she be brought to trial and executed later anyway? Even if she did take it, wouldn't it be better for Chaldea if she'd left?
There were countless questions she wished for an answer to. But first and foremost, she was an Amazon, and a queen at that. They answered by action, since word only carried so much weight. They weren't ones to sit back and ponder what if, but forge an answer with their own hands. And the first step she could take for her heart's insurmountable grief was to remove a cancer that brought forth a new disaster.
It took her only that brief second to quickly grasp the bottle's neck and pop the cork.
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Paracelsus said the temporary potion could last two days while he finalized the real one. Its minor side effects were frustrating, but they were a pin drop to the queen's current feelings.
Her room remained both empty and silent since he visited. Only an hour had passed, but the dread in her heart grew thick, even as her mind was free from that other, shackling voice. It was strange not to feel those mighty compulsions anymore, but she felt far weaker. Her stomach churned and ached, but she wasn't sure if it was because of the potion or what had occurred in the past few hours. It was all she could do just to sit on her bed and stare across her plain, empty room.
Penthesilea glanced at her one bandaged hand. Like the other, it shook anxiously, and her nerves chilled up and down her spine. Had she been any weaker, she would have been balled onto the ground in tears; Amazons weren't weak. They never cried, and she wouldn't here. She wouldn't shame her pride by doing so…
Yet what pride was left standing after her outrage?
Again, Penthesilea grit her teeth and shamefully glared a hole through the floor. That power which promised a desired victory had done far worse than what Achilles' spoken word ever could. He tarnished her life's work, but her madness had ruined her image to countless heroics spirits. She had stained her pride far worse than Achilles had, and that thought haunted her in her lone room.
'But it's his fault for all of this.' That was what her bitterness spoke to flame her anger. It made her clenched fists quake with animosity. Her grudge, which didn't vanish with her madness like she feared, only grew. Though her madness made her commit an atrocity, she wouldn't have done anything if he'd have just kept her mouth shut. Her offended heart was adamant, yet her rationale spoke against it too. The mind and heart quarreled again.
Part of her waited desperately with childish innocence for Hector's return. She wanted someone… anyone to give her reprieve from her conflicted animosity and overwhelming humiliation. Even just a mindless conversation to distract her rampant thoughts would suffice. Alas, she would get none save for the unnerved silence of her chosen guards as they waited unseen in spirit form should she try anything. Despite taking the suppressing potion, much of Chaldea didn't look to trust her anymore. She wouldn't blame them.
Penthesilea was just blessed anyone still gave her the time of day. She glanced to the door as it opened, and held her breath with anticipation as Hector waited at the doorway. She nodded for him to enter. With weapon nowhere to be seen, he strolled to the lone table and took a seat. Nothing was said between them, but when their eyes met, he knew her question.
"He'll live. We have the best medical teams, and that arrogant rider won't die so easily. Doesn't make him any less stupid..." It would be the first time they talked about Achilles without fear of her bursting into a rampage. She was a bit glad Hector didn't have to dance around the topic anymore. She was even more glad her atrocity's haul wasn't as 'bountiful'. He sighed. "If only we'd noticed sooner, ah, but thank the gods I wasn't too late... Thanks the gods for that."
His words slipped past. Her voice was firm but quiet. "Did he really…"
"Want to satisfy you? That's what most think... I think. In some way. But we won't know for sure until he wakes up," Hector groaned out with a shake of his head. He rubbed his forehead with two fingers.
"He might have wanted to take a hit from me on purpose…" Hector stared at her incredulously, and part of her even doubted it. That first strike was crippling and decisive, but something he could've likely avoided. The rider was smart enough to know that but… "Or he underestimated me… My madness. But he looked surprised I…"
"Well… trust that arrogant, invincible fool to get crazy ideas in his head…" the prince lamented with a sigh. His words were sharp, but she felt no bite. She only saw the disappointment and worry in his eyes. "Dammit, Achilles… As wrong as it went, if that was his goal, then it worked… You drank the potion. Temporary, but something."
It still felt strange to talk about him and only feel a natural disgust and frustration in her heart; Much better than that wildfire she could never put out. It meant thinking about so many peculiarities about him was far, far easier. Her eyebrows furrowed. "…I don't believe he would. Why would he do anything for me?"
"Guilt." It was a simple answer, but one that made her eyebrows furrow further incredulously. Yet, his expression was serious. "I can tell you he knows what he did. He's ashamed of it. So he went ahead and tried to set things right so you could stay. You saw the rest."
"Unfortunately." The disdain in her voice made Hector stare at her in concern. Her clenched fists shook in her lap as she stared at them. Disbelief courted her grieving, angered heart. So much so, it refused to even acknowledge the oddity he raised. "…I've ruined so much. All because of him…! My image. My pride… I even shook apart Chaldea."
"…Shook apart?"
"Divided, Hector." She growled out. Hector seemed only momentarily concerned as she slammed her wounded fist against her own armored knee. The sting barely registered. "You saw how divided they were at the Training Grounds. All because of me!"
"Hmm? But we were always that divided." His calm admission made her turn back to him and stare. He only sighed and scratched his head. "Maybe diverse is a better word? We're an alliance of over a hundred heroic spirits. Seeing everything eye to eye? That's impossible. There's no way, no matter what the masters hoped for. But it's the fact we do often get along like a community that's the real gem. We made quite the movie over the many months."
Though she was a bit confused at his last wording, she appreciated his tiny, genuine smile of encouragement towards her. His continued reassurance too. "You did nothing but reveal what was always there, Penthesilea. That every servant here cares for Chaldea in some way. We just care differently. Some more passionately, some strictly, some compassionately, carefree… But they get angry and argue over what needs to be done because they care. Heh… I'd be far more worried if we didn't… We all found a lot to love and lose here. That's for sure. You've already found some too."
She nodded slowly. There were a sparse handful already, yes. Of that there was no doubt. Quetzalcoatl and Leonidas were fun to spar with. Her friendship with them was budding, just like it surprisingly did with Spartacus. Delaqua showed a lot of promise, and if anyone could train her to earn a sacred title, it was an Amazonian Queen. Of course, there was Hector and…
Her frown grew when she also realized how many potential bonds she no doubt ruined. Had she tarnished one with her goddess too? There was no way she could ever truly apologize for her madness-inspired flare ups against Atalanta and her children… But even so, she strangely wondered what could still be. After all, there was one oddity she still couldn't shake.
She grit her teeth. 'If only that madness didn't… Why did Achilles have to spit that word at me!?'
In the small silence, Hector had stared off towards the door as concern grew. She knew he was worried about her own pending fate, but there was the other possibility too. He did just return from the Medical Bay instead of asking telepathically. "Do you care about Achilles?"
He glanced over to her, paused, then cracked a small chuckle. "We've had a bad past... buuut, as much as some of his decisions annoy me… He's a standup guy. Loyal, ambitious, caring. I can't doubt he doesn't try his best anymore, that's for sure. Yea. He could lose a bit more of that arrogance… but his wife and kids are working on that."
Penthesilea blinked. "Atalanta is his wife?"
"…Yes?" Hector scratched the back of his head. "Not by modern standards. No ring, no wedding… But it was different back then, yea? And Atalanta isn't one for fancy ceremonies when she could donate that money to orphaned kids. Her own kids and Goddess Artemis still want a fairy tale wedding for them but… Ah, I'm rambling. What matters is their happiness has come to mean the world to him. It's actually funny to watch him fumble with family stuff. Quick way to make him stumble is to bring some ol' fumbled up."
"Achilles as a family man…" She couldn't give it any thought with the madness. Now that she could think, though, it was the true oddity. All she'd ever known was of before, of the arrogant, invincible hero who'd shamed her. She'd thought of him as nothing but a glory-seeking warrior, but just hearing about this paternal side was ridiculous. Much of her couldn't believe it, yet she'd seen more than enough to question her own truth.
Maybe he wasn't the only one underestimating people, but her grudge wasn't about to let him off the hook for what he's worsened.
Clothing rustled, and she glanced over to finally notice Hector had brought a backpack with him. He then pulled out his laptop and a zipped binder. Upon noticing Penthesilea's strange stare, he smiled. "Well, either way, we have to wait for a verdict, right? Might as well pass the time without the tense silence, so I swung by my room and got some movies! I promised I'd show you at least one if you had to leave, right? I know a good one to take your mind off things."
Penthesilea stared at the Prince of Troy. Over an hour ago, she'd seen the commanding and powerful hero who'd helped Troy stand for nearly a decade of siege. Now, any trace of that war-hardened lancer was replaced with a calming, middle-aged cinephile who just wanted to share his hobby with a new friend. Though her heart was chained down with the weight of grief, she offered a tiny smile of gratitude to her companion.
It seemed she was going to owe Hector a bit more.
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When Hector said movies could stretch for hours, Penthesilea thought he was kidding. How wrong she was. As she tried to wrap her head around Interstellar's concepts, she found that it accomplished what he said. Upon her first steps in the world of motion pictures, the troubles of her heart and mind took a backseat, though they were still loud and obnoxious. The movie could never wipe the guilt away, but it made the past three hours less agonizing.
It was only when Hector left briefly that she fell prey to her thoughts again. The mind of a leader was often filled with management and plans to handle new problems. From a lifetime of experience, it was easy for her to see what she needed to do, but the bar had been raised terribly. If she hadn't doomed herself already, the road to repair would be terribly long. Even for a powerful queen, the reality was disheartening.
A knock on the door offered a wooden plank within the endless whirlpool. She sensed a regular person outside, but that was enough to narrow down who could possibly be brave enough to come to her. Delaqua's voice was the cement. "Penthesilea? Can I talk with you?"
"You'd be one of the few who would," she commented blankly, then shook her head. "Come in."
To her relief, after the door slid open, Penthesilea failed to see an ounce of fear in Delaqua's poise or expression; Only concern. The uniform supervisor waited patiently for something. The berserker nearly sighed, but motioned towards the abandoned chair by her bed where Hector once sat. The redhead was quick to scooch over and take the offered seat. "Thank you."
The queen nodded. "You're not working? What of that desk project?"
"The Director called a halt for work because…" The supervisor didn't finish; It was obvious anyway. After quietly fiddling with the cuff of her uniform, she looked to the queen. "The council is interviewing every servant and employee. I haven't gone yet, but Quetz said it was probably an unannounced vote."
"So that's why Hector went to see her…" Penthesilea mulled as a frown grew. "I see. I guess my fate has been sealed then. I'm afraid I won't be able to train you further."
"You can't be that sure…" Penthesilea glanced to the supervisor with a dry look. After what she just did? She wouldn't be surprised if the majority wanted nothing to do with her. The redhead flinched. "Sorry. I didn't mean… When I'm called, I'll try and convince them you should stay. This wasn't your fault. It was your mad enhancement."
"Maybe it was, but some made it clear they didn't believe that. I was too lucid."
"But it'd be hypocritical for them to vote you to leave when Spartacus has a similar condition."
"I thought Spartacus could be talked down when angry?" Penthesilea's point quickly silenced Delaqua. The queen shook her head. "Madness or not, I'm responsible for my own actions. It was my grudge against that man that let it come this far. I gave my word to the masters that I'd try to be civil, but look what happened. I wound up destroying my image and pride before other heroic spirits. All because my grudge over pride became too much… If only I hadn't been convinced so easily by that madness. If he'd just said nothing at all…!"
"…I think I know how you feel…" the supervisor mumbled. Penthesila stared at the supervisor, and she tried to wave it off with embarrassment. "Forget what I said. It's ridiculous. It's not that relatable at all."
"Is this about that grudge you had on Gabrielle?" Penthesilea stated as the supervisor glanced away shamefully. She nodded briefly. "You never did explain why it happened. Just that you went too far and injured her. That sounds similar, or is there more to it?"
The berserker allowed the supervisor to ponder quietly. Maybe she'd answer, maybe she'd brush it off again. Either way, it was relieving at least one Chaldean employee remained mostly at ease around her. Delaqua spoke hesitantly. "Gabby made a comment about my clothes and I took it the wrong way. I thought she was calling me fat, and I hate that. I worked hard to lose all that weight and… huh?"
Delaqua stared strangely as Penthesilea let out a tiny chuckle. It was relieving to feel that amid the heavy guilt. "I see… You're much more Amazon than I took you for. Mindful of your image, so you work hard to remain strong and get furious with any who wish to mar it."
Her admission did bring more light to the whole situation involving her, the supervisor, and Kiyohime. She wasn't about to dig further, but she was already drawing some lines. This new incident scraped at an old scar while challenging a long-held concept. Maybe if she'd asked about it…
Her inquiries grew, but Penthesilea focused on her companion's raised point. "Am I safe to say what happened then was a series of terrible misunderstandings?"
"Awful ones… I still feel terrible I let my anger best me again," Delaqua admitted, then glanced to Penthesilea. "I'm sorry that it did it to you too."
"It's likely too late for me to take a lesson from that," the queen mused, making the supervisor gaze to her sympathetically. She grew a bit concerned when the queen clenched her fists. "That damn Achilles… All of this because he said that to me."
Delaqua was openly worried. "Do you think it's possible he didn't mean it that way?"
Penthesilea's incredulous stare snapped to her. The supervisor flinched, but surprised her by remaining firm. "I'm not trying to say you weren't wronged! But… Maybe it is like what happened with me. I thought what I saw was the truth, but that was never her intent. Maybe Achilles meant something different? Maybe it's a misunderstanding? …Sorry, I don't think you wanted any reminders. I can't imagine how you must feel…"
"I'd rather not talk about it." In truth? Rotten. Awful. She could search a dictionary and start pulling out more fitting words, but she wouldn't let the grief weigh her down fully. Amazons used it as passionate fuel, not as an anchor. She kept it bottled as Delaqua fiddled uncertainly with her uniform again.
Achilles meaning something different? Beautiful was a simple, straightforward word. No, Penthesilea refused to think there was any misunderstanding at all. It was an offense to her to say that… yet she'd be lying if she'd said Delaqua didn't get her mind wondering maybe. It was a ridiculous, low chance, but there were a lot of peculiarities about that man she'd never thought to see past what she knew.
But she wasn't about to think about that more and frustrate herself further. Instead, she nodded briefly, and broke the nervous silent. "You didn't come just to talk about that, did you? I know the last thing you'd do is want to offend me, so breathe easy. What did you need, Val?"
The supervisor was quick to shake her head. "I didn't need anything. I just thought I'd give you some company if you were alone."
"I'm far from alone," she calmly replied. Even now, she could feel the eyes of her hidden guards on her, but she'd give them no need to worry; She'd give herself no more scars upon her pride. "Your company is more pleasant, but I'm at a loss of what we could do should you stay. My room is bare. Hector brought a movie."
"There's always just talking… Quetz can chat for hours about nothing," Delaqua offered with a tiny smile. It was obvious to the queen the supervisor didn't exactly have a plan to help cheer her up, but the thought counted the most. "Mmm… Did you like the movie? Which was it?"
"Interstellar. It was… confusing. Surprisingly entertaining, but I don't think that type of movie interests me."
"Maybe fighting is more your thing? With strong woman leads?" Delaqua asked, and already Penthesilea was nodding curiously. "None come to mind but… Do you know comics? I'm uh… please don't judge me for it, but the reason I looked up to Amazons was because of my childhood superhero, Wonder Woman. She was an Amazon but… I don't know if you'd agree or not with the depiction?"
Penthesilea tilted her head, but her curiosity bloomed. "An Amazonian superhero? You're going to have to explain to me what that means."
Delaqua's eyes seemed to light up eagerly, letting Penthesilea know she'd be distracted from the current wait that much longer. Waiting in guilty frustration would have been insufferable. Her mind still concerned itself over her pride's new scar, and a lasting hunger for an old one, but she was at the mercy of time. As much as she wanted to do something about both, it was Chaldea who would decide if she could.
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Lunch ended an hour ago. She hadn't eaten anything. Her room remained her chosen prison, with a host of others as occasional guests. Delaqua had been joined by Quetzalcoatl, only for her to leave for lunch. Spartacus came after to visit to remark about being oppressed in one's room, which Hector and Leonidas had to convince otherwise; It was actually amusing watching Spartacus debate so strangely. After that, it had been just Hector until the masters and Da Vinci came to deliver the verdict.
Her door slid shut only a second ago, but Penthesilea, numb with surprise, still stared at the ground. "…I get two more days…?"
Hector nodded in his chair. "I guess I wasn't the only interview that was dragging on. That's two more days to prove you're innocent! Lucky you!"
Penthesilea narrowed her eyes lightly. "I don't think anything will convince some others to lighten their glares."
"Maybe not. But you heard Da Vinci. Their little handful of gathered opinions are split even, so they can't rush a conclusion." Penthesilea blinked, then gazed to the doorway. Though his spear was missing, she was surprised to find shining armor glinting. In her blind surprise, she didn't realize one of the accompanying servants hadn't left. Instead, Fionn stood calmly by the door with a knightly smile. "I'd say that's reason enough to go out and enjoy dinner, no?"
"And spoil everyone's else's?" she commented dryly. She shook her head, but then stared at the lancer. "Is there a reason you linger uninvited?"
"I'm replacing one of your guards so Sasaki can play shogi with Martha," he calmly responded, then motioned with his hand, seemingly to indicate the other hidden guards. "In my wisdom, I thought it'd be best to stay visible. It's uncomfortable being a security camera and to have hidden eyes on you, yes?"
He had a point there, but she was undecided if it was better he remained manifested or not; She wasn't on good or bad terms with Fionn. An Amazonian's bias against men remained, but she acknowledged this time was very different. She'd even say she was proud how progressive and successful women have become, from the little she heard. Her bias whispered that men still only saw women for one thing, but that was easy enough to ignore and give benefit of the doubt.
He chuckled. "Ah, but I'm sure you're used to having eyes gaze upon beauty. Maybe it's not so uncomfortable?"
…And her bias growled. Hector groaned and stopped attempting to wave Fionn away from the topic. Penthesilea's frown grew, but it didn't explode with maddened rage. She still fumed over that damn word… Sure, she knew, deep down, she was still a woman, and her older self was gorgeous to many men. She knew that, but that didn't mean she didn't hate being called that. Especially after a hard-fought battle...
After all, every Amazon strove to ensure others saw them as more than just 'another woman' or 'pleasing eye candy'...
To his credit, Fionn's eyes quickly widened and he placed a hand over his heart in apology. "Forgive me. Slip of the tongue. You hate that word, but it's one of my favorite around new, pretty… Hmmm, perhaps I should ask Diarmuid to take my place."
"Please forgive Fionn. He can't help but follow his flirting instincts," Hector groaned out as he eyed the other lancer.
"I've been trying! I can't turn down a second chance like this to improve myself! I can shine even more beautifully!" he chuckled, then winced upon using that word again; Her eye twitched with frustration automatically. He wasn't even using it for her and it was annoying… No, Penthesilea just couldn't accept that word. It'd take a lot to convince her otherwise, but she was grateful she wasn't trying to strangle the lancer for saying it.
'That wouldn't go so well for fixing anything…' Instead, she merely scoffed and stared. "You got a second chance? Did all that flirting get you into trouble?"
"Nothing major, but I was referring to being summoned. To arrive in Chaldea is to receive a second chance. A new lease on life. A beau- A shining fresh start every servant gets!" She ignored his slip this time. She only noted her eyebrow was likely going to twitch automatically whenever this lancer was around.
"A fresh start…" she mumbled incredulously. Much of her didn't agree with that idea. After everything they did in their former lives to become famous, no one just got a fresh start dropped into their lap. It was preposterous, especially for those who committed atrocities. Their identity followed like a shadow, welcome or not. By his notion, one could commit genocide against a populace and be treated as any other person in these walls. It was an absurd thought that questioned modern morality, which Chaldea wished to juggle in any strange, feasible way.
Hector nodded in agreement. "You're far from the first to find it ridiculous. Joan, Carmilla… There's a lot who learned it for themselves. But it is how it is. You got the intro. Everyone is welcomed and given a chance so they can set things right, let them fade, or build something new."
'Even Achilles…?' She'd seen glimpses of it. Maybe he wasn't quite that arrogant warrior she remembered. Just seeing those impossible tears in his eyes was a powerful shock to her system, that even he changed. But the grudge would never fade easily, if at all. She never questioned what he did… at least until Delaqua raised the point. Had she actually misunderstood, in her frustration of training her whole life only to fail? By a similar token, could she possibly be forgiven for her atrocity?
Her mind continued to grapple with the strange concept that was both an impossible notion and her closest saving grace. She sighed, her heart weary with shame and laden with unceasing lamentation for her plight. "After my actions? I fail to see how many believe I deserve anything."
"Likely more than you think. Chaldea can be very understanding," Fionn reassured. "Good food, drink, and company helps with that. Fighting side by side too. With that madness suppressed, I think you'll finally see for yourself, no? Maybe find a new hobby or interest?"
Penthesilea scoffed. The last thing on her mind was something like a hobby, but maybe he did have a point about one thing. Brooding in her room wasn't going to do her any good. Her madness and growing grudge against that damn rider were obvious enough with endless repetitions. She could use some fresh air at some point, and maybe a sparring partner to vent some self-aimed anger.
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To her surprise, Fionn had made for passable company after he learned to bite his tongue about that gods-forsaken word. She'd wound up watching another movie with him and Hector, but her need to move about grew; She was allowed to. Her unseen guards would follow her wherever she went until the final verdict was given, but it beat fuming in her room. Hector left to stash his laptop away, but he'd rejoin her on the way to the resort.
Penthesilea hadn't imagined opening her door could be done with so much tense uncertainty, but it had been. It was replaced with surprise when she found a teal-haired berserker in a kimono waiting hesitantly just outside. The queen stepped forward enough so her door would close, then turned to her surprise visitor. "Can I help you?"
"Oh. Are you in a hurry? I didn't mean to catch you at a bad time," she answered calmly, but Penthesilea shook her head. Kiyohime bowed graciously. "I'm sorry to bother, but I was just worried about you. How are you feeling?"
Penthesilea blinked strangely, but nodded calmly. "I'm fine. My stomach still doesn't agree with the flavor. Mm. It could be worse."
"Oh. That's good to hear…" Kiyohime replied, paused, then spoke up again. "Are you upset with anyone? Besides Achilles, I mean."
The queen was starting to see where this conversation was going now. "Are you asking if I'm blaming the masters or the council for their actions? I don't. They've wanted me to take the potion, and I agreed to it. The permanent one too, when ready."
Kiyohime breathed with relief. "I'm glad to hear that… Sorry for taking up your time. Thank you and I hope you feel better."
Penthesilea stared after the other berserker as she walked away. She blinked and nearly gawked; That was it? No extra powdery assurances, talk down, or rough remarks? She wasn't sure what to have expected, honestly, but… first things first? "Wait. You never introduced yourself."
Bashfully, the other berserker turned around, then offered an apologetic smile. "I didn't know if you wanted to or not… I'm Kiyohime."
"Kiyohime…" Penthesilea mouthed. Now she understood why this girl approached her. She was the 'victim' of that underhanded madness suppression incident. Penthesilea felt her eyebrows furrow just looking at her; She looked so… innocent. Gabrielle had to force it on her? "…I see now. I'm sorry you didn't have a choice either."
Her smile didn't carry any lingering grudge. It was only fulfillment incarnate. "That was nearly a year ago now. I've forgiven them. It was for the best for the community… Me too."
"That didn't mean it was right."
"No. It doesn't," Kiyohime agreed quietly, but still kept her smile. "It wasn't an easy decision for them, but I wasn't very… cooperative. I was livid when they did it but… You're not mad at the masters? At anyone?"
"Only myself. At Achilles too…" the queen confessed flatly. "I didn't ask for this, but I had a hand making it worse. If I'm despised by most of Chaldea now, I won't blame them. My pride was my undoing."
"Time might surprise you." Kiyohime's comment made Penthesilea furrow her brows. The other berserker still smiled. "We came to terms with what had to be. Our misunderstandings... We've moved on. We'll move on again. Then you can spend your time here with less worry, just like I did. Maybe even find some great surprises in your future."
Penthesilea blinked, pondered her words and state, but left it in the back of her mind. "…We'll see if I'm allowed to stay first. But… thank you."
Kiyohime nodded, then began strolling away. Penthesilea's hidden guards said nothing, but she wondered if they'd agree with what she said. Maybe their overwatch was only a precaution, and not an act of distrust. Her desperate heart was reaching for any hope, but even if her guards didn't agree, that was at least one more soul who'd likely vote in her favor. She didn't need to ask the leaving berserker to know.
As she walked away too, Penthesilea just wondered how fast Chaldea would move on, with or without her.
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It was rare for the distant waves to rival the outdoor cafeteria's bustle, but that's how it'd been for dinner the past few days. Its mood fell like a curtain of rain today, and even the birds' chirps seemed less vibrant. The resort's pleasant breeze felt like an unwanted chill despite the warm evening. Yet, the cafeteria only grew colder the second Penthesilea arrived.
Hector sighed beside her as he glanced around the now silent area. There were only so many present this early, but the number of eyes upon her was staggering. Though the glares had increased, the Amazonian wondered if they'd always been looking at her this warily. Had her madness blinded her this much? No. She swore she'd remember a sight like this.
She felt so… unwelcome. The number of sympathetic stares could be counted on one hand; Were there more? She was possibly jaded, but blank stares, cautious eyes, and silence yelled at her trouble-wreathed mind. All of the servants still had their battle attire, and the sight of that scratched at her nerves. Even after drinking a suppressant, this was what waited for her?
Even worse, she gazed towards a distant table flocked with servants. Sitting among a gaggle of children, she noticed the loathing stares of a particular family. Atalanta's eyes almost looked feral, and Penthesilea wondered if she'd snap at her had Mata Hari not had a calming hand on her shoulder. Even the often giggling and gushing Jack held a menacing aura as she glared her way; The worried Kirby in her arms couldn't extinguish the inferno.
Her eyes darted elsewhere, but still felt their heat. At least the blank stares from a table of Vanguard members offered a tiny reprieve. Yet her broken heart questioned that too, if only because of Artesia's condemning gaze. It made the berserker's mind think more of Skyler's blank stare, as if his eyes actually held a glint of wary calculation. She turned to another table, and another, but if there were any more calm or sympathetic glances among the silence, she spotted none among the hazy tension.
With her stomach groaning at the potion's taste, and her heart hung low with reality's bitter pill, Penthesilea's meager appetite fell away. Instead of wondering what the tasty aromas were, her mind quickly decided the only proper course. Hector gaped at her as she turned away. "Penthesilea?"
"I wasn't that hungry," she said simply as she began walking back towards the neighboring club. "I don't wish to ruin anyone else's appetite either."
To her credit, her voice held firm, if not quiet. Within, her mind lashed at the suppressed madness while her heart lamented what had become. None showed on her face, or so she thought. Hector followed quickly to catch up, but she paid no heed. As she cursed at herself, she only sensed another servant watching her when her eyes caught their glowing image in her peripheral. She glanced over.
Penthesilea froze upon meeting Artemis' gaze. It was blank, and that tickled a trickle of fear she rarely felt. To see her so angry before was understandable and shameful, but this blank stare from the floating goddess lashed her with concern. Was she mad? Disappointed? Upset? Was she about to say she lost all favor and blessings?
As if time stopped, Penthesilea watched as Artemis moved closer while Orion watched on her head. Floating before her, the queen now wished the goddess had that strange, bubbly attitude she had before. To talk and gush over her with affection and excitement like an excited child rather than a proud, magnificent goddess. Instead, she got the least expected act.
Penthesilea stiffened with confusion as Artemis wrapped her arms around her. It was almost familial; A strange feeling mostly forgotten by Amazons. Their tough society often didn't coddle or baby beyond infancy, but Penthesilea fell to its maw. She didn't understand why or how she needed this brief affection, but her heart cried for it. It offered safe harbor to her mind after countless stares engraved themselves on her pride's epitaph.
"You don't hate me, goddess…?" Penthesilea mumbled into the archer's shoulder. Artemis shook her head in turn.
"I'm angry at what happened. I'm angry at myself for being helpless." Artemis broke away quietly, but floated before her with tired yet compassionate eyes. "If I force the potion on you myself… If I make you see your madness. I had many thoughts, but I hesitated to act. What if I made things worse…? I don't hate you, but I am upset at what your madness made you do. You've been through too much."
Penthesilea nodded as Hector gently patted her back. Artemis looked like she was searching for what else to say, but a familiar callout quickly snagged all their attention. "Oh, Penthesilea! Freed from your room, I see!"
The queen glanced over to the club's entrance as Spartacus walked over with his everlasting grin. Beside him, Quetzalcoatl smiled and waved to the beleaguered queen, then fell worried at her tired stare. "Penthy? Are you feeling okay? That potion didn't sour your appetite, did it?"
Penthesilea didn't answer. She considered a meager shrug, but then Spartacus grinned wider and crossed his arms. "Oh! But it's Asado tonight! Very delicious! It's not something to miss!"
"I was about to tell her that," Hector mused and scratched his head as Artemis watched on quietly. "But, well… I think she'd want to taste it in her room."
Spartacus looked confused, but Quetzalcoatl was quick on the uptake. It only took a quick glance to the outdoor cafeteria for acknowledgement to register in the Mesoamerican goddess' eyes. She frowned sympathetically, but as Penthesilea quickly learned, a solemn mood never lingered around this deity. It vanished with a bright smile and hands clasped together. "How about we have it on the beach? You can enjoy fresh air, good food, and maybe some parrots will come and say hi~!"
"Yes! A good decision! The rooms can never compare to fresh air and good company!" Spartacus proclaimed, then marched towards the grills. "I shall liberate our food from the fires and meet you there!"
Penthesilea blinked and stared after him. Part of her was frustrated she didn't have a choice; She just wanted to go elsewhere and vent some frustration. Spartacus only seemed to listen when he wanted to. Quetzalcoatl was a bit pushy too. Yet, she couldn't be mad at having her hands forced. They meant well, and her allies were far fewer now.
Hector scratched the back of his head with a tiny smile as Quetzalcoatl leaned towards the queen. "So, it's okay with you? Asado on the beach~?"
Letting a tiny smile slip past her worn nerves, the Amazon nodded.
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"Can you pass a few skewers?" "Spartacus! Not the whole keg!" "No, Senor seagull~! I just gave you seeds~!"
Their small group occupied a spot on the beach just across from the tropical flower gardens. Spartacus and Leonidas had quickly brought plenty of delicious food. Hector, Quetzalcoatl, and Delaqua had also joined them; Even Artemis spent a few minutes to ensure the queen was alright. Though the bubbly goddess parted to check on Atalanta, the sense of comfort remained overwhelming. It was a nice change from the maze of tension she'd wandered through since leaving her room.
Maybe Penthesilea needed this more than she thought.
Still, as she lifted an oaken stein of whiskey before her and drank, its fruity taste didn't wash over her buds like it could have. It felt duller. Not the same absence of taste like her madness often robbed, but one where the lingering grief and frustration ruined the cuisine. It was still tasty, and it was like fleeting medicine for her embattled stomach.
She took another sip, then gazed as Quetzalcoatl flailed her arms again. "No, no, no! You had lots of seeds already~!"
Delaqua stared at the lone seagull standing on the large blue blanket between them. It took turns eyeing Quetzalcoatl and the many plates on countless matching blankets. As Quetzalcoatl gently tried pushing it away with her hands, Spartacus laughed and threw a skewer towards it. Like an excited puppy, it flapped into the air, claimed the prize, and scampered off to join its flock. While many chuckled, the rider gawked. "Spartacus! They're going to keep coming back for more! They'll pester others too!"
"Because they're hungry! I only gave them the means to end their oppressive hunger!" Spartacus laughed as Quetzalcoatl slid a hand against her face.
Penthesilea merely glanced between them, then took another skewer for herself. Before she could eat it, she noticed one hanging in her peripheral like a challenging sword. She glanced over, noticed the content smile on Leonidas' face. "Cheers?"
She was hardly in a cheerful mood, but she wasn't about to turn down a friendly gesture. Not when so many weren't giving her the time of day anymore. She 'clinked' her stack of steaming, sliced beef against his. Leonidas chuckled, then did the same for Delaqua beside her. Penthesilea cracked a tiny smile when he reached across their circle to clink his shish kebab against Spartacus' fat leg of lamb. As the other berserker raised it and cheered, she even let out a tired chuckle to join the mirthful cries of her companions.
Nostalgia whispered to her. If she blinked, she could imagine herself sitting before a council of bands with her sisters. Had it not been for the grief, maybe this would have been like the same merry drink and celebration that came after a good hunt. A good way to end the day, and a fair way to lighten the burden of her guilty heart, if only for the moment.
…Yea. Penthesilea needed this. It almost beat venting through sparring.
"Why hello there! Come to join us?" Spartacus' eager callout made Penthesilea turn around. On the boardwalk, coming down the stairs to the sand, was Anishka. Possibly a guard of sorts too; So they were still being that cautious with her, were they? Understandable, if not aggravating.
"Only for a bit. My sweet child just wanted to check up on Penthesilea," her lone bodyguard admitted. Penthesilea nearly blinked as the sweetly smiling Raikou rubbed Anishka's shoulder in quite an ambiguous manner. It looked motherly, yet the fidgets of embarrassment said more about how it felt than the eye could gleam. Maybe she wasn't a bodyguard?
Penthesilea's fleeting ideas were tossed aside as her mind steeled herself. The masters had already come to check on her before, and she'd already apologized for her trouble. Still, despite the pride of the Amazons for following their hearts without regret, the queen was willing to dip her head again if need be. So, she studied the approaching master with a blank expression as she neared the blanket. This could be about anything, good or bad.
"I heard what happened from Karna. Are you okay? That must have been terribly uncomfortable to have everyone-"
"It's fine." It was rude for a servant to cut a master off, but this apology was meaningless. The queen deserved it. "I wouldn't have expected anything less. If anyone needs to apologize, it's me."
Anishka nodded politely. "I see… Then did you go up to Atalanta and her family to...?"
"…Not yet," Penthesilea frowned lightly, then shook her head. "I saw their glares. It's better I left them alone. I'm used to getting through my people's anger with authority, but this isn't my kingdom. I can't just force them to listen when they clearly won't. So my apology is worthless to them."
It was fact, but that didn't stop Anishka, Quetzalcoatl, and Delaqua from sending sympathetic glints. The queen didn't need them. She shook her head. "They might even think I'm trying to convince them to stay. Change their vote. But what would that weigh? They wouldn't need to say anything and I'll be gone for the throne in two days."
"I wouldn't be so sure about that…" Raikou injected quietly, even before Quetzalcoatl could spout her own comforts. "Most don't agree with what you did, but many are also aware what mad enhancement can do. You might be thinking too much like the past, where actions are placed on the scale alone. Chaldea is anything but dismissive of that."
"But Chaldea prizes its peace and stability. Any society would," she countered flatly. "If it were my kingdom, the punishment would be fatal for what had come to pass. No one turns a blade willingly on an ally."
"But were you willing when you said no? When you wanted to crush him in his helplessness?" Raikou questioned lightly to continue her point.
"I think not, for she was being controlled by her madness! That much is obvious." Surprised, Penthesilea turned to Spartacus. Though he smiled, she could sense a feeling of wisdom from his eyes. "Amazons are proud warriors. They were slavers too, but I'm happy she has abandoned that in the past! Wise, yes, for Penthesilea is an Amazon Queen. She would exemplify honor and dignity! And there is no pride found in crushing the weak! To seek victory over the unwilling combatant is to wish for murder. No true god would smile on that. Never!"
"It's true! We wouldn't! Warriors may fight in our honor, but some lines remain they must not cross. In every warrior sect!" Quetzalcoatl chimed in, making Leonidas and Hector nod in agreement. She smiled to Penthesilea. "That's why you still have my vote, Penthesilea. The second I learned you had Ex ranked madness, you had my benefit of the doubt!"
"…Thank you…" Stunned to near silence, she could only whisper that as she met the content smiles of support. Even Raikou nodded her way with a motherly smile. The queen once thought the lighter dinner mood was falling, but it bounced well. Even so, despite the reassurance, what she saw couldn't be mistaken. Her heart knew too, and spoke for her after a slow exhale. "… Though I'm not sure why it's even being considered for a vote. I was already given a chance before, and I ruined it."
"You want the reasons?" Anishka began, earning the stares from the others. With hands folded before her uniform, Anishka waited for Penthesilea to respond.
Of course she wanted to know. "Because of the interviews, right? You wanted full opinions without cutting anyone's say?"
"That's part of it," Anishka revealed, confusing the queen. The others too, curiously enough. "It wouldn't be fair if we just did a yes no ballot. I didn't want that. Every opinion should be heard in full, but the main sway to extend your probation came from Achilles. He blames himself, not you. He wanted you to stay. That's what he begged before he lost consciousness."
Incredulous disbelief filled her. Penthesilea's mouth slowly opened while some others whispered around her. She heard nothing. She only focused on the ludicrous truth she'd thrown out several times today: Achilles supported her. Even after what she did to him, he wanted her to have a chance. It was impossible and ridiculous…
…Yet she couldn't deny the oddities she'd seen. The vicious first hit that shouldn't have connected. The fact he came out of hiding to call out to her. His insistent on glancing blows and fighting a running battle, even when injured. That was certainly not heroic in her eyes… or at least, not in the classical sense.
If he was doing all that for her, then the real question was why. But even that had an answer already. It was one she'd failed to give the time of day, for why would she? Arrogant and prideful to a fault, the great Hero Achilles would never feel guilty or stoop to apologize for his actions. If an ancient warrior scoffed at the thought of apologizing for war, then he would triply so.
…Or so she was so adamant on believing, yet what had she witnessed with her own eyes? What had she been told? What did some say to search for?
"Penthesilea? Penthesilea, are you okay?" While her mind mulled over the crack in the glass, she'd stared off aimlessly in shock. She lifted her head and stared to Hector across from her. His worried expression remained cemented, but all she could pick out was that he'd been right.
"Achilles really said that…?" Penthesilea finally mouthed, and Anishka nodded. The pause after was painfully silent. The queen broke it with a dry chuckle that made Leonidas stare uneasily. His gaze lightened when she placed a hand against her head in pained, troubled thought and shook her head. "…There's no way… He'd never do that. He's Achilles. I threatened to take him from his family. The ones you said he loves… wouldn't that be like killing Patroclus?"
"Maybe even more severe…" Hector admitted, as he crossed his arms uneasily. She stared to him, and he stared back with a straight, blank face. She knew what it implied, and he never said anything to conclude that. He only watched as she nodded slowly in doubt.
"Then he should hate me. Hate. He should want me gone for… Why was he not… I shouldn't…?" Penthesilea was at a loss for words, but Hector only sighed.
"I know it's hard for you to understand, Penthesilea. But the Achilles you see today is a changed man." Impossible. No one, especially not servants, change so far from their core without world-shattering reasons. She couldn't fathom it. It was a ridiculous notion he'd become so compassionate and understanding and yet… many clues were there, but she's mistaken, right? Hector sighed and glanced to Anishka. "Annie. I'd like to make a questionable request. I'm ready to barter to make it happen."
When the master nodded towards him, the others turned silently as he stared back to Penthesilea. "I'd like you to tell me when Achilles wakes up so we may go see him."
Many turned incredulous at his strange joke, but Hector's expression proved the joke was absent.
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Anxiety.
A show of weakness, opposite to strength. That's not something an Amazon feels, if at all. It was a fleeting, rare sensation that itched at the back of the mind and made one question the littlest things; There was nothing little about this act. Anishka and the other masters agreed with precautions, but the following morning, Penthesilea had never treaded on this thin of ice in all her life.
"Hector, the potion…" she began through her mind.
"I trust Paracelsus. He's the best at it. It'll hold out as good as the permanent one." She wished she could see the prince's expression as reassurance. His calming words will have to do, even as her heart beat in her dematerialized chest. Nervousness made the borrowed concealment cape felt like it was strangling her, yet she couldn't brush it away so easily. If the temporary potion she took failed and she attacked outright, her guilt would only grow.
That's why she held her breath as she floated into the Medical Bay room. She knew Hector was beside her, but her other guards remained silent; If they said anything, she didn't hear them. She only stared forward with a screaming discomfort. Her mind's nails dug in for control of her body… but nothing happened. Her heart's nervous beat was the only sound before she finally, slowly relinquished her paranoia.
Steady beats of her heart were replaced by joyful crying within the room. At last, her eyes focused. The heart monitor's steady chime was like a metronome in the bright room. Nightingale and Anishka stood by the door with tiny, content smiles as Penthesilea floated by unknowingly. Drawn closer to the sight on the bed, her last worries vanished as Hector's voice echoed in her mind again. "We'll stay hidden. Just as promised."
Penthesilea stared at that hated adversary as he lay on the bed. The specialized bandages covering him did wonders for his material body, and her mind fell at ease seeing his material body looked healthy; From what she could see, at least. Right now, the weak but smiling man was rubbing the backs of his two daughters who'd quickly ignored Nightingale's request not to clamber onto his bed.
As if even Nightingale would stop the two crying servants from hugging their father. Jack sniffled with a happy smile, "Daddy's okay! Daddy's okay!"
"I'm alright, Jackie… Going to take more than that to bring me down." Though his slowly-voiced, relieved words should have irked her, Penthesilea ignored them. She knew she could've killed him. No doubt, she was glad she didn't in that case. She only stared as the flying, strange puffball floated onto the bed to join the girls. Achilles glanced at it. "…You take care of the girls, Kirby?"
"Poyo!" it cheered and saluted. Achilles chuckled lightly, but the smile on his face vanished when Atalanta finally approached the bed with crossed arms and a mighty glare. Penthesilea could have chuckled at the sight of a squirming, uncomfortable Achilles had she not been so absorbed in seeing what played out.
"What were you thinking!?" Atalanta snapped as she dropped her arms to her sides. With shaking fists, the archer levelled her glare as Achilles glanced shamefully away. "Died…! You nearly died, Achilles! What would happen if we had to summon you back!? Would you remember!? How would Jackie and Alice feel!? Me!? W-Why didn't you tell us!?"
"…I'm sorry… I didn't want to get anyone involved in my mess…" Penthesilea picked all the oddities of his tired, spoken words. Guilt. Regret. Shame. Anxiety. Steadfast hope. She wrestled with reality as Achilles glanced back. "I thought… I could make it work, but our battle didn't go like I planned. I thought I coul-"
"She nearly killed you! What did you think she was going to do when you just revealed yourself!?" Atalanta growled while the tears finally formed in her feral eyes. Jack and Nursery Rhyme, still teary-eyed, sniffled and stared at their mother. "You…! I want to knock some sense into you! I can't believe you'd try to save her! And after what she-! By the gods, I wish she was already thrown out!"
"Then she's…?" Though his weak voice was sewn with relief, Penthesilea nearly missed it past the welling guilt. His eyes pleaded at the furious archer. "Atalanta… Please. Don't be mad at her. She didn't do anything wrong. I'm the one at fault."
A day ago, Penthesilea would have agreed wholeheartedly… Now part of her wasn't quite sure if blame was so black and white anymore. At a lost and conflicted, she watched as Atalanta quivered. "She…! She…! If you do something like…! Like this ever again, Achilles…!"
Achilles slowly opened up his hug around Jack so Atalanta could quickly move in and collapse against him. Every one of her tears that slipped onto his shoulder weighed his frown with heavier guilt. The regret, shame, and relief swirled in his eyes as Jack and Nursery Rhyme tightened their hugs. He leaned his head against the archer's quietly. "…I messed up again… I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, Atalanta… I'll make it up to everyone."
Penthesilea watched him wrap an arm tightly around the sobbing archer. All the berserker could do was stare conflicted; She didn't know what to feel. She didn't know what to think. The sight before her was clear, and she understood. His words were genuine and his recent actions spoke for him.
Silently, she observed as the minutes evolved into an hour. Frozen like a statue, she watched him squirm with discomfort at Nightingale's curious checks while his kids giggled. She gazed dumbfounded as the bed-ridden rider did his best to play with his children and their strange pet while Atalanta remained seated on the bed beside him. There were even the few glimpses of a caring love in tiny pecks on the lips, appreciative stares, and even the simple act of holding her hand.
The truth was obvious. The man before her was no lie, but he was far from the Achilles she thought she knew; Who he was today glinted present. He was still the man who offended her, but now she had to question how much blame he rightfully shouldered. Against what she thoroughly believed, it seemed there were other ways amends for his insult could be given. She was simply too blind to see what was.
How Achilles had moved beyond his crippling pride, while she clung to it adamantly.
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Penthesilea wasn't sure how long it'd been since Hector and Quetzalcoatl left her room for lunch. The queen opted to skip like she did breakfast. Any extra time alone felt needed. After secretly watching Achilles and his family for two hours, she had a lot to think about. Plenty that food and company shouldn't distract her from; Not that most Chaldeans wouldn't wish her out of sight anyway.
Minutes ticked by as her mind gazed at the endlessly repeating facts, both new and old. Though Achilles gravely offended her, his remorse and guilt were no lie. It only made her own troubled guilt bloom with understanding. Still, her grudge and anger wouldn't be looked past so easily, but they won't blind her to ignore what might be again. She wouldn't allow that.
Sitting cross legged on her bed, she stared at her bare hands again. Though slender and feminine, her endeared callouses spun a tale of ambition. So long as she was alive, she could do something to make her renown grow. To her frustration, she now knew full well she could unintentionally destroy it. Nevertheless, she was still alive and in Chaldea. The queen retained control of her faculties, so she could start down a new road to fixing the damage she'd wrought for herself and others.
Her injured pride hung in the balance no matter what she did. 'But where to start…?'
Not with an apology, for certain. She wasn't ready. Everything happened too fast. There was so much to absorb and still to understand, but her heart echoed the pain.
She wasn't about to apologize to Achilles for what he did… but she wasn't about to chase her wish either. The Amazon could offer at least that much as amends for her actions. Hopefully it'd be enough. Anger, frustration, anxiety, shame... All of it would make great fuel to soothe her exhausted mind.
Yet, even so, her ray of hope hinged on a decision that remained out of her hands: If Chaldea votes for her to remain. She never thought the wish to stay could grow so urgent.
There was a knock on her door. Thrown from her thoughts, she quickly surmised it couldn't be Hector or one of her other companions. They'd have called out already, but she had to instead. "Who is it?"
"It's Paracelsus. I have the potion to give you if I may?"
There was only a brief pause as she finally glanced to the door. "You may."
A flowing white battle robe appeared behind the opening door. Penthesilea stared as the caster entered, followed quietly by Gabrielle and Raikou. Though the servants had calm smiles, Gabrielle's was terribly riddled with guilt. Penthesilea had been told she'd been taking it rather hard compared to the other masters, but she only ever caught glimpses. The queen's blank stare fell upon her. "Are you alright?"
"I should be asking you that," Gabrielle smiled faintly, but fidgeted with her sleeve. "You've been through more than any of us hoped."
"I'd say I've been the one putting Chaldea through trouble," she calmly retorted while observing the bottle in Paracelsus' hands. It was rainbow colored, and Penthesilea's stomach almost rumbled in agonizing anticipation. She frowned. "Are there more side effects?"
"At worst? A mild headache for the next hour," Paracelsus smiled as he glanced to the bottle. "I've had practice mixing flavors for my friend's special brew. It took extra effort and rare materials, but this one is tasteless."
"But permanent?" she quickly questioned.
"Correct. It's a suppressant, so your mad enhancement will never truly go away, but it will effectively rank it down to around E rank. At that point, it provides no benefits but no compulsions."
"Just like it did for Frankenstein and Caligula. Your parameters will be lowered because of it, but you shouldn't have any episodes again," Gabrielle added. Her eyes quickly filled with guilt as Paracelsus glanced to her one final time. "…We have your consent to give it to you, right? I don't want it to feel like we're forcing it down your throat or anything."
"Don't be ridiculous, Gabrielle," Penthesilea stated as she stood, making the master stare hesitantly. "Of course you have my consent. What that mad enhancement causes is unforgivable. I've got too much on my mind, but I understand that clearly."
Truthfully, Penthesilea was even more uncertain of the future ahead. She was conflicted and undecided on far too much, and only had so much time to interpret what she saw this morning. But, looking back, her choice about relinquishing her mad enhancement's benefits was obvious. "I'm Penthesilea, Queen of the Amazons. I don't need that mad enhancement to make me stronger. I am strong, and I will be a much better sword for you to use without my mind going berserk over my grudge."
Gabrielle slowly smiled and nodded. "…That's great… Um, but I'd prefer to call you a friend or comrade rather than a sword. That feels demeaning."
"Wonderful! You're as wise as I hoped," Raikou finally spoke as she clapped her hands together. "To hold your head high. To willingly look into your soul and wish to destroy any blemish that could ruin you. That's a show of true virtue!"
As she walked over to take the bottle, Penthesilea wondered why Raikou seemed so strangely enthusiastic about her decision; Let alone why she followed. She'd only been compassionate to the queen, so she wasn't about to write her off. Penthesilea only nodded with a tiny smile and took the compliment.
While she cradled the potion in her hand and popped the cork, she stared at the swirling mess that mirrored her heart and mind. They were willing to waste rare materials on someone who likely only had one more day here. It was another hint her heart refused to acknowledge; The guilt was heavy indeed. Either way, she had a day to think and hopefully pray that the true queen in the throne would take these memories to heart: A warning of the price of pride and vengeance.
Nevertheless, pride was everything to an Amazon. For what it caused, she'd still cater to its needs. All she could hope for was to learn the lessons that would come of this so she may never fall this far again. As an Amazonian Queen, she had an image to uphold for her people's dignity… even if it came time to admit any little fault she never would have before. Pride was everything, but if it threatened itself, she'd act justly next time.
There was still a day, her rational mind whispered. A day to ponder, lighten weary shoulders, or come to terms. Maybe even find some small ways to leave on a better note. The possibilities looked as murky as her belief. She'd still do something in that fog. It was the Amazonian way to work defiantly until the end.
If Penthesilea will meet her end tomorrow, then she will greet it holding her head as high and dignified as she could.