[b]Alexa![/b]

"The story says I killed my father," said Zeus. "I'm surprised by now you still think that's all there is to it."

You see her at work across the battlefield. It is Zeus' to judge victory and defeat. It is Zeus' to fill hearts with fear or courage. Though Athena and Ares may posture, demand, and impress, it is Zeus' final decision in each moment who shall have the field. And in each moment, she decides. Sometimes cool and calm, sometimes brilliant and excited, sometimes lackadaisically or contrarian, sometimes with profound wisdom. But always she decides. Always she is confident in her decision. How? How can she know what she's doing is correct?

"I mean, I certainly struck the man," she said. "But that's not any help to you. You [i]did[/i] that already. You ruined him, made him permanently aware he posed no physical threat to you. You damaged his ego and sense of self worth, you saw him cast down and humiliated. And here you are! Still in his power! Fat good that did you, right? I mean, you weren't wrong, it just didn't fix the real problem."

She picks up an Alcedi warrior lying broken-winged on the ground, shivering and coughing as her wounds struggle to close. She cradles her in her arms. "You ever think, Alexa, that these are your siblings? Old Liu Ban created them, same as you. He engineered their entire species and made them his trusted servants. Here they still are, seeming to smile even as he devours them. The machines on Baradissar, too. All broken scions of the same old bastard, same as you." She coos gently to the Alcedi, pressing a hand to her stomach until the girl slips into a deep coma. She sets her down, bloodstains invisible against the indigo of her toga.

She walks through the battlefield on bare feet. Her hair is wild and tangled, brown and curling, only point of fixture the subtle silver wreath upon her head. She is in the prime of her life, old enough to have muscles, will, and a handsomeness. She has a maturity now; not the easily offended pride of royalty, but an understanding of infinite capability.

"I think it's because, even when I struck him, I was still his son," she said. "He kind of always expected that. He expected me to become him, and that was his real trick. The others... they were puppets, objects, but I was something real enough to live vicariously through. To inherit his world and his puppets. He made me strong, you know? Strong enough that if Hephaestus forged an unbreakable chain, and upon one end weighed all the gods and all the worlds, and upon the other was my arm alone, it would not be I that moved. That might was his love. Even patricide couldn't undo it, because that was just a use of the gift he gave me."

She looked up into the heavens of the Anemoi. Kaeri and Alcedi warflocks impact on each other, light and dark, shadow and thunder, the spectacular war of the kingfisher and the owl. Bodies fall soundlessly onto the plastic-like linoleum of the assassin ship.

"No, what broke my father's heart was that I cut my siblings out from within him," said Zeus. "I dragged Poseidon, Hera, Hestia, and darling Hades out of that dark he expected me to maintain. I offered to divide the realms between them. I honoured them, their decisions, their kingdoms. I couldn't be rid of his might, but I could be rid of his belief in it. And when I did, [i]that[/i] was when he cursed me and said that I was not his son."

She walked over to the a porthole and looked out at the glowing violet Azura star, away from the turbulence of the battle. She frowned pensively. "And to this day, I [i]still[/i] regret not telling him 'That's right, I am your daughter'. It would have been the perfect... ah well. Live and learn."


[b]Vasilia![/b]

"Why?" said the Furnace Knight. There was genuine confusion there. "The Rail is a difficult weapon to master. The level you have learned it to does not provide you with significant advantage. You would clearly be an exceptional warrior if you trained in the techniques native to your Empire. Why study a martial art from Skies you have never visited, for a weapon you did not possess, designed for a physiology alien to your own?"

He paused. "Unless you are an Azura, who has patterned yourself into bipedal shape. Then things make sense."

[b]Dolce![/b]

You see a shadow appear in the doorway behind Jil. Her ear rotates - she hears it too. It's the singer who was at the feast - Beljani, sleek as razors in her coiling dress, holding a strange hollow silver wand delicately between two fingers. She sees Jil. "There you are. Come on, give me the ring, we can still finish the plan," she said.

And Jil has a choice to make.

She looks right at you. All the power is on her side in this moment; she has an assassin at her back and with a gesture she can make you a target. But she hesitates for a moment, caught in the light of rival gods.

"Bella has tried every kindness she could," said Jil, quietly, below the assassin's hearing. "She sought to win Princess Redana back with persuasion and nonlethal means. She has had these assassins since the beginning and never unleashed them, despite her mercy resulting in failure after failure. Now her back is against the wall, the decision is out of her hands and failure is not an option. Even now she has risked everything on the most merciful path she could find. I have never seen anyone strive as hard as her while carrying as much weight as she is. And I cannot let her down."

[Roll to Finish Her with Wisdom]