Aurnia dipped her head in greeting before making her way towards Death's outstretched arms. As she moved down the centre of the room, Aurnia sensed that somehow she had managed to reach the top of Agrona's tower. She cast a quick look at the looming clouds above, only to baulk at the sight of wispy azure blue spirits swirling aimlessly within them. Their forms shifted, torn by the wind until she was no longer certain if they were human or beast.

Aurnia stopped several paces away from the raven-haired goddess before hesitating and gesturing at the winged snake who had now reappeared beside a glass goblet rimmed with gold.

"She said that you have been waiting for me and while I know no words will ever truly restore the bond between us, I–"

"Have no fear, dragon-whelp." A ghost of a smile danced across Agrona's thin lips and Aurnia's heart soared to think that maybe, just maybe, the path to reconciliation wasn't as rocky as she'd feared. But when Death moved to hug her, she flinched and shifted two steps back. This was far too easy. True, she had hoped for absolution from her guilt. But when faced with the possibility of immediate forgiveness, Aurnia was surprised to feel a sting in her heart.

If Agrona was hurt by her reaction, she didn't show it. Rather, she only sighed and as if sensing Aurnia's thoughts, shook her head and invited her to take a seat at the table.

"Aurnia, have no fear, all was forgiven long ago. However," she took a step back, placed her hands above Aurnia's wings and gave her a once over. "I can see that you haven't changed one bit. It's been several decades and you're still dragging in mud between your claws."

"I–what?" Aurnia flushed and shot a glance over her shoulder. Sure enough, her dusty claw prints scattered across the cracked chequered tiles but before she could utter an apology, she heard Agrona mutter something. Almost instantly, a flurry of jumbled creatures scuttled out from between the cracks in the room. Their mandibles clicked and with their legs, the insects made quick work of the grey dust she had carelessly scattered around the room. When they finished, they squeaked and returned to the dark crevices of their origins.

"Efficient, no?" Agrona returned to her chair, lifted the goblet to her lips and took a sip from the crimson liquid held within. She pointed at the seat next to her and once again indicated for Aurnia to join her.

Aurnia paused, up until now, Agrona seemed to have shown her no ill will. Perhaps there was no need to hide behind her scales and claws. Grimincing, she placed her bag on the table, shifted back into her human form and settled into the high-backed chair. Silence pooled between the two women, unfurling like a cloud to loom above the many dishes bursting with fragrant stews and vibrant fruits shining with juices. Aurnia glanced at her toes, words clumping in the back of her throat as she fished for a way to spur a conversation and get the answers she needed. She eyed the coal-black snake by Argona's side and was unnerved by its stillness.

The serpent's questions had hung uncomfortably in her head. Unlike her mother, it seemed the goddess had not seen silent anger as a betrayal. Aurnia placed her hands gently on the table and ran her fingers over the chipped edges of the plate before her. Diplomacy had never been one of her strengths, those lessons had always gone towards her older sister.

Uncertainty weighed heavily on Aurnia's mind. Time was of the essence. She had fulfilled part of what she had promised Lily, but to plunge directly into requesting Agrona's aid meant ignoring a past that was neither favourable nor fair, and besides, she had no idea what the future held. To leave without speaking about what happened would mean possibly wasting her last chance to try to make things right.

She turned to the Agrona, only to see that Death had been watching her patiently and Aurnia looked down, suddenly feeling like a young child waiting for a scolding. "I should never have allowed my mother to colour my perception of you. You took me in as a student and I threw that back in your face."

"Is that so?" The goddess slowly tilted her head, "To tell the truth, I took you in not as a student, but as a peer. There were certain things that I did not agree with. But alas, I overstepped my boundaries and your mother in her all-knowing glory took it upon herself to ensure that I would never do that again."

Agrona placed a slice of meat onto Aurnia's plate and motioned for her to begin eating but Aurnia ignored it and flushing, she looked away as tears prickled in her eyes.

"That's not true. I was the one who asked my mother to keep you away."

"Do you remember why you asked your mother to keep me away?" A certain sharpness had crept into Agrona's voice.

Aurnia stiffened, her mouth ready to spill a secret that she thought she had been keeping for far too long. But no thought came to mind and when she pushed further into her memories, she was met with an aching void and the beginnings of a headache.

"That's what I thought."

Aurnia shook her head, "No, I know there is a reason. I've spent so long burying this aside that I must have shut it away but it will come to me and–"

"It won't."

Agrona set her goblet down with a hiss. "It is up to you to decide what you want to believe. But since you seem eager to have this conversation, I will tell you what I can. You were born into a family of wolves. Fiercely protective and loyal to their own and their allies, they made their claim on the creation of this world. However, should one member fall, then loyalties shift and protection turns to vengeance. Children become weapons in a war they never started."

Unease prickled down Aurnia's spine. As much as she despised her mother for abandoning her, there was a period when her mother had been more than willing to guide Aurnia through the tumultuous waves of growing up. Then something changed and her mother's guidance turned to barbed criticism, but Aurnia did not want to believe that her mother would use her as a weapon.

Yet something intangible, a whisper of doubt, clung to the back of her mind and heart pounding, she pushed her plate away.

"Forgive me, but I don't understand how my family history has anything to do with my attempt to apologise."

Agrona smiled and her long nails flashed as she stroked the feathery wings of her snake. "It has everything to do with your apology. You cannot truly apologise, or fight a war if you don't know where you went wrong. So answer me this, what do you do if the weapon you cannot afford to lose loses its way?"

"I don't know."

Frowning, Death reached over and gently tapped the back of her hand. "Think, Aurnia! I know you didn't come here just to apologise. You are here for Lily and I am giving you the answers that you need."

Aurnia startled. How Agrona had known about the true purpose of her mission, she didn't know. But it was understandable that she may have always wanted to keep an eye on her twin. Agrona leaned forwards expectantly and Aurnia swallowed.

"Assuming that a weapon was capable of acting on its own and did indeed lose its way, then I would take measures to ensure that it won't hurt itself."

Death laughed. "That is indeed one answer, but it is not the only one. Think again."

"I assume that I would also have to take measures to ensure that this weapon would not hurt me." The words felt like molasses in her mouth. "But you still haven't explained why this is relevant to my supposed inability to remember why I stopped speaking to you."

"Indeed, and given the circumstances, we cannot afford to waste time avoiding painful subjects." Agrona sighed and swirled her drink around her goblet. Silence descended upon the table and as both women watched the crimson waves churn, Aurnia heard the gentle sound of snoring coming from her bag. It seemed Koa had decided to take a nap.

Death took another sip from her cup before starting up once again. "To answer the question, if a weapon loses its way, then it needs to be reined in before it can do any further damage. Your mother believed that you had deviated too far from the path she had laid out for you. Her solution was to steal your memories of the event leading up to the catalyst and place a seal over a portion of your abilities. I disagreed and so that was the end of our friendship."

At that, unease prickled the back of her mind. Her mother had always been firm. She had a vision of her children serving faithfully at the First Mother's temple and steadfast they had been. Usually loving, but always wary of the tempest that raged within their mother. Blinking, Aurnia pushed away her mother's scoldings and raised her head to look at Agrona.

"Why are you telling me this now? You've been silent for so long, watching and waiting. My mother–she would never do such a thing, would she?"

Cobalt flashed across her pupils as Death narrowed her eyes and sent her a bitter smile. "That, my little dragon-whelp, is a question that only you can answer."

"You could be lying."

The feathered snake hissed and tail lashing, it flicked its tongue at Aurnia and its cold presence pushed through her skull. Time slowed and Aurnia swore the serpent was about to speak but Agrona's voice cut through the tension like a hot knife through butter.

"Ah, that–yes, I suppose I could be lying."

Biting frustration welled within her chest as Aurnia watched the goddess raise the glass to her lips once again. She wished she could absolve her mother of any blame but the continued headache as she fished for the memories that she apparently should have had worsened the fears that Agrona was telling the truth. Her childhood sat serenely preserved in crystal, but thanks to Agrona, Aurnia had become keenly aware of the dark void that sat screaming in her mind.

"What memories did my mother steal from my mind?"

Death hesitated, and for the first time, Aurnia saw a flash of regret dance across her face. "That I cannot say."

"You cannot say?" Days of exhaustion unspooled the frustration lurking upon her tongue and Aurnia did not fight to keep the exasperation from her voice. "You tell me that my mother has stolen my memories yet you cannot tell me what was stolen. I had hope that our years of division would not lead us to lie but now I'm not too sure."

At that, the goddess set down her goblet and pinched the top of her nose with a sigh. "Aurnia, please listen. Your mother did not trust me and I don't expect you to be any different. I had hoped that she would come to her senses and return those memories she spirited from the depths of your mind but it seems she never did."

Aurnia grumbled and sat up straighter in the chair. "I don't see how this is relevant to my concerns."

"I assure you that I have no intention of leading you astray. Your mother build boundaries out of myth and stardust, strong enough to protect her children and even drive away the gods, including the one she vowed to serve. Know that I could never help you directly and you had to come to me on your terms. I gave you the compass and your determination brought us back together."

"But–"

Agrona held up a hand and signalled for Aurnia to be quiet.

"I could be lying to you. I don't deny that. But humour me, what do you see when you touch my gift to you?"

Pausing, Aurnia tilted her head and wondered just how much she could trust the goddess before her. Agrona had not shown any animosity and her mother's firmness was a good enough reason for the evasive answers to each of her questions. She closed her eyes and pushed past the dread of remembering all that the compass had shown her.

"Pain. I see pain and a cascade of red. I hear screaming and crying for forgiveness." Gritting her teeth, she opened her eyes and said, "Please don't tell me that those are my memories. I would have been a monster to have caused such grief."

Agrona stilled, her gaze shifting to the wall behind Aurnia's back and then to the bag she'd placed atop the table. Then she started with a nod and smiled. "You are no monster, Aurnia, but if my compass can show you those fragments then there is hope that your memories can reawaken, and with that, your full abilities should return."

Silence once again yawned between the two women until finally, Agrona sighed and said, "Perhaps it might be best to move on to the true reason you are here. I have burdened you with information stolen from the depths of your mind and to push any further would be cruel."

Aurnia nodded sullenly. Her thoughts floundered like fish out of water, gasping for breath at a truth that her mother had supposedly gone to great lengths to hide. Time was not on her side. Lily's fate hung in the balance and yet, she wondered if it would be a mistake to let this chance for a truth slip out from between her fingers. She fiddled with the napkin beside her, twisting the fabric until she was sure it would snap from the tension. Then suddenly, Agrona cleared her throat and Aurnia's head shot up to look at her.

Death now stood silently by a large crack in the wall. Her dark dress, lined with silver threads shimmered in the dying light and Aurnia's eyes were drawn to the belt woven from hide and bone. Intricate carvings pulsed with a faint blue light, a reminder that even while resting, Agrona's magic was never far from their reach. She beckoned Aurnia towards her and hesitating, Aurnia shouldered her bag and obeyed.