“Today, she is the one they call. Crowe, the Rememberer. The Goddess of Vengeance.
Today, the prayers she answers are her own.”
(hello it’s just me being Crowe Saltius that they Did That to her)
Crowe doesn’t die. Not really, anyway.
Her body withers away, she watches it go, but she’s beyond it now. She doesn’t need it anymore. She’s strong enough.
They’ve made her strong enough.
After all, she’s not a perfect being the way the Six are. She isn’t whole. She cannot linger in this world unless she’s called upon, invoked. Unless she’s worshipped.
And they are offering so many prayers up to her now, in bitterness and rage the way they weren’t when she’d desperately clung to a starving orphan’s body many years ago, when the desolation of war crushed every emotion but despair.
No, there are many who seek out their little acts of revenge today - as Insomnia burns, as her glaives gnash at each other’s throats - and she is the one they call.
Crowe, the Rememberer.
Vengeance Bringer.
And it is vengeance that she brings today.
She’d joined the Kingsglaive because of that thirst, bubbling just under the surface of every new recruit. They’d all lost something - their homes, their family - and they all wanted to destroy something in turn. It had gotten...loud at times. She’d liked Nyx and Libertus and Pelna for the way it was quieter around them, but a goddess cannot sustain herself on quietness.
She needed the others for that.
Luche, she remembers his name. He’d been bitter about so many things, angry at so many people. She was surprised with the strength of his resentment, with how vocal that Tredd boy had been towards the end about his dissatisfaction. But either way, it had been like a wellspring, she knew she would never be hungry with people like him around.
And now she never will be.
Luche and people like him may have destroyed her body, but they’ve made her strong enough that she can be here to collect him after. After he’d made a folly in his rage, in his desire for power, his hope for destruction. He’d put on the ring. His body had burned away.
And now they are here together.
It’s a hollow space, between life and death. Her satisfied purr reverberates throughout it - a predator closing in on her prey - and Luche’s spirit, still in its human form before it forgets that it was ever human at all, thrashes about to find the source of the sound.
“Don’t look, Luche,” she says, in the voice he knew her by. “But we’re the same now.”
“C-Crowe?!” he calls out, eyes wide and darting as he searches for her.
He will never find her like that. Not unless she allows it.
She gathers herself down to the form he remembers, but it’s not out of mercy. Revenge is a punishment that only works when one knows why they are receiving it. She holds her arms out in a flourish as she materializes in the same body she’d died in, down to the jacket he’d stained with her blood, like she’s greeting him as he arrives at the bar.
“What’s wrong?” She grins as he tries to call his weapons. But there’s no point. There is no King here, no magic. Only the dead. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”
“This is impossible,” Luche grates out. “You’re dead. I killed you.”
“Well,” Crowe says with a vicious grin. “We have at least the first thing in common. Maybe the second as well.”
Luche blinks in realization, eyes settling on his hands. His spirit shimmers as he collapses to his knees, his form starts to dissipate, fading slowly. She’s not concerned, she has a moment longer.
“No,” Luche breathes. “How-?”
“You put on the Ring of the Luciii,” she says, squatting down in front of him. It is with a smile that she meets his eyes. “You weren’t worthy.”
“But, I-” Luche gulps. “Why- Why are you here?”
“Luche, are you an idiot?” Crowe laughs, but it’s not malicious. Not yet. “You just said you put me here, remember? But what you didn’t know is that the body you killed was just a vessel.” Her smile is sharp, cutting. “I’m free now, Luche, and I’m stronger than ever. Thanks to you.”
“A vessel-?” Luche manages.
“You humans love your Six so much that you’ve forgotten the names of all the other gods, even though I’d told you mine,” she explains as she lets her physical form start to dissipate as well. “Well, no matter. You’ve done so much to get me here, you ought to know my name, all of it.
“They used to call me Crowe, the goddess of revenge. And you have been an excellent disciple.”
Luche balks and chokes as he watches her dissipate with wide eyes. She leaves him with a view of her vicious grin before returning to the ether so he cannot see the way she surrounds him, the way she prepares to strike.
“And now,” she purrs, voice echoing throughout this hollow, empty space. “You will make an excellent sacrifice.”
crowe’s final opinion is that he was too salty
tttthanks for the read!!! likes + reblogs appreciated
