*ONC 2024 entry*
**Round Two Ambassador's Pick**
**Shortlisted**
She's an angel of love; an ill-fitting name, as she's no angel. She strives for a world devoid of pain and sorrow. A world of love; of sex and debauchery without consequences. Unattach...
It's been days, weeks, since Az left me, and my heart has progressively descended into darkness.
When I woke up this morning, I knew the damage was done.
Heartbreak has infected me.
And something tells me it might have had an effect all around me, too. I have a vague recollection of a shift in the air when I declared my ailment out loud. A whoosh of energy, ominous and foreboding, brushed over me as I said the words, "I'm heartbroken," and it's lingering now.
Stuffy, intoxicating.
I think it might be spreading.
And I think the goddesses know.
Am I in trouble? Am I about to die? This isn't something the goddesses will forgive me for. They won't lock me up and punish me; they'll end me. I'm not immortal, like them; just gifted with a lengthy life and incredibly difficult to kill.
I've done what they've worked to prevent for eons.
***
I wait it out. A day or two pass—I've lost count, too absorbed in my sorrow—and I'm not struck dead.
So either the goddesses don't know what's going on, which is shocking, or...they've decided to spare me.
And I assume they expect me to fix the havoc I caused.
The issue is, I have no motivation. I have no desire to leave my room, to depart the sacred temple grounds. I don't want to see what's out there, what I've done by succumbing to Az's demonic seduction.
I'm much too ashamed that he got to me this way, and that it's still affecting me now.
Eventually, I'll go stir crazy. So I force myself into a dress decent enough to be in public. I braid my hair, puff on some makeup to hide the lines around my eyes, the dark circles, the red splotches left by tears.
I exit my room, and outside, I smell it already—despair. Dread. Even on the temple grounds, I sense the negativity taking over, drizzling its effects over Hazelvale. The clouds above are dark and sinister, choking our atmosphere.
I gulp as I wade down the path leading to the gates. It'll be worse beyond the temple grounds, I know; and I'm not sure I'm prepared to face it.
I did this. Az did this.
And he's definitely not around to face the consequences, so this all falls...on me.
I pass into Hazelvale proper, and the stench intensifies. The world is dark, like a blanket's been thrown over us, some light poking in through holes and tears.
I pad down the main street to a chorus of yells, sobs. Breaking glass and shattered porcelain echo out, accompanied by strings of curses and doors slamming.
Misery marauds in and out of homes, drags its claws down alleys and roads. No one is spared; all those who'd lived comfortable, loving lives thus far are standing before their doors, hands pressed to their aching hearts.
They're all heartbroken.
Somehow my admission has reached them, prompted their own pain to become obvious. Those in happy marriages are breaking; those who yearned for love have lost hope.
Exivaria is crying, and I...can do nothing.
I sit in a corner and watch the world transform before my eyes. Darkness seeps in, imprinting its odor over every surface, sinking into every rib-cage.
And I can't do a thing to stop it. Can't...or won't, I'm not sure. All my emotions blur together, as if my intact heart was keeping them all at bay, until Az cracked it open.
Now I'm sad, confused, enraged, depressed. I'm anxious and numb all at once.
My rage is directed at Az, of course, who started all this; but at myself, as well. Because all these millennia of preventing heartbreak, of keeping it out of human vocabulary, of blocking myself from having feelings...
And I caved because of one man. One demon. One creature came up from his awful realm and targeted me, and he succeeded. He won.
Now these poor, sheltered humans are experiencing my pain. They're learning the hard way what happens when love goes wrong, when lust is unrequited.
All the love in Exivaria is being smothered. The city is cold and humorless, lacking the warmth from before.
As I wander deeper into town, I realize not everyone is affected. Some observe, hiding in their homes, peeking out from behind their curtains. Business owners close down, afraid of those whose tempers have flared up.
It's a mix of violence and utter desperation; hurling objects and unstoppable sobbing. Kicking at rocks, or at other people, slapping and punching and pointing knives at chests.
It's a war on the streets.
The reactions, the terror shows how important my work was, all this time. How essential my role was to this world.
And I ruined it. I heeded an instinct I never should have: pursuing a dangerous demon who'd only lead me to my demise. I had that hunch, when I first met him, and yet I pushed on.
I gave in to him all while knowing he'd destroy me.
But I never knew he'd destroy my world.
Without me, there's no balance anymore. Evil exists naturally; there's no way to fully eradicate it. But I at least contained one weakness, one vice, and ensured the people of Hazelvale were more or less happy. Content.
Now they're furious, and it's my fault.
We're tipping the scale. The carefully balanced realm the goddesses worked so hard for...it's being engulfed. Devoured.
And I know what this means.
An overflow of evil will thin the veil between our world...and Hell.
It's not a myth; I've read about the spells placed on the underground realm and how they keep its horrid king from breaking free. And I've read about how those spells can be weakened, how they can be tampered with.
Infusing negativity into Exivaria, carrying out dreadful deeds and provoking chaos—that'll open the Hell gates before we have a chance to prepare for the worst.
That is the worst.
And yet...all I do is walk. Farther and farther, getting lost in the back-alleys of northern Hazelvale, where men grope at women, and women point fingers at other women, and children watch their parents drown in alcohol and sorrow and blood.
What I've done to the world with my selfishness...I can't forgive myself. I never will.
My heart is beyond repair, but I don't care anymore. I've grown used to its pangs, to the obscurity it fills me with.
And I still think death would be better, but I'm not even motivated enough for that.
So I sit. I wait.
The goddesses will come soon, and they'll fix this.
Right?
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