A fragment of the Godskin Apostle's memories of Maliketh played through Zhao Si's mind. What followed was the apostle's flight through various places before he reached Windmill Village, and it also revealed the village's secret altar to Zhao Si.
"You saw a great deal." The Gloam-Eyed Queen's voice sounded beside his ear. Zhao Si felt himself sink into warmth and softness. When he looked up, he found that the queen was holding him in her arms.
After birth, the Godskin Apostles were wrapped in leather swaddling and brought before the queen to receive her embrace. The queen infused Black Flame into their bodies, granting the Godskins Black Flame Protection and making the flames their inner armor. This was also why the Godskin Apostle had been able to endure his injuries and fight Zhao Si. Even now, with the Black Flame greatly weakened, it still had some effect.
Great hopes had been placed in the Godskins. The queen hoped they would grow to become the death of the gods. That was how it should have been, but Maliketh had smashed it all to pieces.
All her ambitions had come to nothing. Victory and defeat were commonplace in war, but she had never expected a single crushing defeat to amount to a "death sentence," leaving her almost no chance of ever recovering.
"I often think Marika was like the protagonist in one of those stories," the Gloam-Eyed Queen recalled. "Radiant, possessing everything others could only dream of. Godfrey, Maliketh-all those powerful figures were willing to gather under her banner. If one of them had been willing to come to my side, do you think the outcome might have been different?"
That sort of "what if" could only be a beautiful wish. It could never become reality, and nothing could change it. Just