POV - Death's escape from Amorr's eyes

Amorr's delicate fingers brush against the soft petals of pink roses, the lovely fields of flower bushes stretch as far as the eye can see. Gently swaying in the breeze, their green branches covered in evil looking thorns hold the promise of a painful caress for the naive enough to touch them, that detail alone betrays and dispels the romantic and sensuous aura surrounding the endless grassed field. 

Although the face of the divine calmly wandering through the gardens is set into a content half smile, their eyes are clouded by an unseen worry; shoulders leaden with nervous anxiety that comes and goes like the ocean's current.

A pair of fey breaks the pleasant silence with their boisterous laughter. The two eternally youthful women hold hands while running along the path between the many rose bushes, their fine garments billowing in the eternal summer breeze. Their giddy stride are interrupted when they both sense Amorr's presence. As if entranced by their lovely aura alone, the two women seem captivated by the ethereal being before them.

Breaking herself out of her reverie, the dark-haired fey bows and quickly nudges her companion to do the same. "Your Grace. Forgive our intrusion, we just wished to admire the sunset before it is over. We heard lovely tales of its beauty."

Amorr gazes at them with amusement, a fond but sad smile tugging at their plush lips, gone are the cute dimples that would earn them enamored glances from mortals and divines alike. Their eyes, the color of rose quartz, have lost their shine and seductive glint.

The deity of love can feel the couple's passion for one another, forming an enchanting connection around their lithe bodies in the form of a soft pink aura, binding their very souls together. It pulsates softly—in time with their hearts—perfectly harmonized. The soft pink gives way to a deeper color, the shade of blood mixed with milk to become a sultry mixture setting their core ablaze with lust.

They cannot remember the last time they were so at peace as to be able to laugh like the pair before them, without a care in the world; or to find pleasure in someone else.

The memories of that day seem to replay on a loop, over and over again, intent on bringing them as much pain as possible. And yet, the pain they have felt for the last two thousand years is nothing compared to the literal torture the gods and themselves have put Death through. 

The feeling of Death's cold dark blood is deep engraved in their mind. 

Soft pale hands are now clean and immaculate, but they were once stained with black ichor. It felt like pure rot, trying to snuff out their divinity by consuming them whole to the very last particle. At the last moment, Vaal was able to pull them back from whatever terrible place they had been taken to—but the real world ended up being just as terrible after that.

There was nothing they could have done to prevent what happened, the fates seemed set into their cruel ways of teaching a lesson. In hindsight they did plead the ruler of the 

Underworld to cease their senseless harvest of souls. It hurt so much to see entire families decimated, their love bond completely shattered; soul mates with their whole future ahead of them having to witness their other half succumbing to the unforgiving claws of death before their helpless selves. 

The anguish they felt on those terrible days left scars on their essence that will never truly heal, as the torment caused by the feeling of betrayal rippling across that damned cage.

Without realizing, Amorr's expression turns somber. A long, tense silence hangs in the air as the deity of love furrows their brows at the pair. The taller one takes a protective step forward, shielding her mate from the divine's grim stare.

"Would you prefer that we leave, Your Grace? We are truly sorry if we overstepped. I-I only wished to show Estel the beautiful view the Sun god was kind enough to provide us today." 

"There's no need to apologize, my children. Forgive my rather strange demeanor, my mind has been all over the place lately. The garden of roses are open to all of those who 

seek the contentment of the heart or the delights of the body." The pair gulps at Amorr's choice of words, finding very sudden interest in the rows of rose bushes before them. Both women blush furiously while trying to come up with some sort excuse for their naughty behavior. 

"If you are fast enough you might still be able to catch the lasts golden rays of—" Amorr's gentle voice gets catch in their throat. A shiver runs down their limbs as cold fingers seem to snare their spine in a merciless grip.

"Your grace? Is everything alright?" The two women share a worried look, as both seek the comfort only the other can provide. The divine's mood swings are giving both whiplash, but what they don't know is what exactly is the cause behind them. They remain blissfully unaware of the sharp dread slowly sinking in the pit of Amorr's gut.

The deity of love stares at the empty space, a feeling like they never experienced before wrapping around their essence—a serpent going for the kill.

Cold sickening dread curls around the pit of Amorr's stomach at the sight of the rose bushes withering away. All around them the once lush and exuberant field of mystical flora wilt where they stand rooted to the earth. The field is sapped of all color as the eternal summer breeze gives way to frigid gales coming from the frozen wastelands down south, carried all the way here by some dreadful force. 

Violent vibrations traveling through the earth reach their feet, and only their divinity prevents them from falling head first. The pair of fey don't have the same luxury as they are soon nothing but a tangled heap of limbs on the ground.

The sensation is unmistakable; the scent of death pervades the very air. Following the foul smell, the aura of rot causes their skin to prickle as if assaulted by hundreds of angry wasps. It effectively pinpoints the origin of the terrible power: the source themselves.

"By the gods, what is happening!?" The shorter of the trio exclaims, face stricken with tears and ebony skin coated with the remains of dead grass.

"Stand up! It's not safe here, you two must leave now!" Amorr quickly helps the falling girls, gently but firmly they coerce them to get up and seek shelter. As they gaze around they notice several isolated groups of fey and wildmen no doubt coming from the palace and nearby tribes to see what all the fuss is about, meanwhile putting themselves in harms way. 

"Into the nursery, quickly. Vaal will keep you all safe there!" They shout, gesturing frantically to the nearby glasshouse where Vaal is already ushering everyone inside. Their gaze meet and Amorr's sees the same dreadful realization reflected in her emerald eyes. 

Their gaze remain locked, all the while the multitude of people frighteningly runs until most of them disappear among fluttering clouds of wilting rose petals.

Amorr's focus is shattered when a shockwave finally hits the field, their long hair whips backward from the force of it. The crown of milky-white roses is all but hurled from their head, it quickly disappears among the swarm of dead flower petals. 

A silent beat—for a few heartbeats everything is still—and then the horizon lights like a beacon. A jet of pure unbridled energy sears the sky in half, the powerful spectacle is reflected on their teary pink eyes. When faced with the carnage that such event will cause, Amorr can't bring themselves to do much else. Their legs give in, knees hitting the once lush grass, as tears flow freely down their face.

Far away, on the horizon, only a cloud of pure darkness can be seen, it blotches out the sun like a dark moon during an eclipse. The whole world is covered in its shadow. 

Among the gray field, the lonely figure of the deity of love kneels motionless, eyes set in the direction of the explosion. "They are back, they are finally back." They whisper like a mantra. They fear for themselves, and for the whole world. But most of all they dread the day they will have to look into Death's eyes to find nothing but hate direct towards them.

"Creator protect us, for we are about to be punished for our sins."