Two Eyes Cenote Ikaheka

She should feel relief that the choice was made for her. But no such emotion comes. Only a moment of unreality.

“Thank you,” she whispers, the concern cloaked by layers of obsidian as Medusa falls back against the stone.

Her calm is chilling. Is it for implicit loyalty she conjures strength? Or something else? Eset wraps her tail over her paws, silent. If the hemet died tonight, no one would remember her glory, or her honesty. All her gold was covered in ash. She would pass branded in eternity as a suspected murderer. The hemet herself seemed to place so little value upon her mortal arbitrations and Eset contemplated this despairingly. In some ways, she understood. In some ways, she felt it, too.

The effects came quickly. Invincibility. Ecstasy.

The coy looks on, her face offering nothing. “Did you do it?”