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glowing. Not just with magic or with those infernal moths that flutter around you like Fairy orbs. You are so good inside that it makes me sick!”

A tear slid down her cheek, burning a path of liquid gold. “And the others? What do you see when you look at them?”

Malachi flinched. “They are the same as you.”

Another sob wracked her form, shuddering her forward with its force. She took one step toward him. “We want to help you, Malachi. We want to help everyone, please. Trust me.”

“You do not want to help me. You want to kill me!”

“No!” Her voice rocked with the weight of centuries and the boom of thunder. “I promised you I would save you. I mean to do just that. Malachi, take my hands.”

“No.” He shook his head, shuffling back and forth. “This is a lie. I know I lie when I see one. I am a liar don’t you see it?”

Lydia took another step forward. “My dear, sweet, Void. You have been abused and neglected for too long. Come to me, take my hands, and be forgiven.”

He reached out and touched his fingertips to hers. In that instant, she saw everything.

The mist cleared from the threads of Time. Knowledge burned behind her eyelids and she heard a thousand voices screaming her name. White light flooded through her body singing hymns and funeral dirges.

She choked on the Future, no the Present, no…

The Past.

It was all the same to her. Time was not linear at all, it was pliable. She could mold it like clay between her fingertips and they were threads at all. It wasn’t a web! It was the connection between every living thing.

Her eyes saw leaves falling and waves crashing. She saw golden threads holding together the very fabric of time but also life itself. It spread from her heart and linked her to the breath a baby took on the other side of the world. She heard the deep hum of an ancient tree singing to its roots, encouraging them to grow. She felt the burning heat of a woman meeting her lover for the last time before she married another.

She felt the fear, the self-loathing, and guilt from the hand holding her own.

Lydia opened her eyes and met Malachi’s gaze.

“I see it all now,” she said. But it wasn’t her voice echoing from her throat. This voice no longer sounded like the chiming of bells, but the whisper of moth wings and the answering hurricane on the other side of the world.

In a trance, she turned her head to find Pitch. He stared at her with dark, mad eyes and a feral grin.

“I love you,” she said. “And I am so sorry.”

The shadows cleared from his eyes a moment before he realized what she was about to do. His claw tipped hands reached for her and he screamed, “No!”

Lydia released all the power she contained inside herself. It exploded in glittering sunlight, molten gold, and shuddering rays of light. It shredded her body and lifted her mind into the air.

She had no need for blood or veins, she was forgiveness now. The threads of Time stood out in stark contrast to the darkness of the world. She could play upon them for hours, for she was no longer Lydia.

There was no name for her. There was nothing but song and magic. Golden light that spread from the sky and made things grow. Plants would stretch their leaves to her, dancing to show their approval. People would lift their faces to feel her soft caress. Her wings of sunlight spread wide across the sky and dashed away nightmares, darkness, pain.

She was floating in love.

But a man knelt at her feet and whispered prayers. He spoke them over and over again, calling out to her. She was not just love. She was a Goddess, and she had a name.

She drifted close to listen.

“Queen of Starlight, Queen of the Sun. Goddess of love and protection, hear me now,” the man whispered against his fists. “Come back to your form. Grace me with your presence once more and heal me of this affliction. I will beg if that is what you need of me. I will devote myself to your service. Please heal this wounded body and this broken mind.”

His voice cracked over the words, stumbling over a prayer he had never said before. She knew it because she dipped into his mind to taste his magic. He was black, salty like ink, but powerful and mad.

There was another like that. A man, she remembered him faintly, one whom she loved. But she loved everyone that was who she was. Yet this one lingered. A dark man, a monster, a beast, a creature, a butcher.

She settled on a form. Tall and lean, silver hair and gold dipped antlers stretching into the sky. Bells jingled from silver strands strung between each tined horn. Glittering diamonds decorated the crests of her cheekbones and traced whirling patterns upon her skin.

Queen of Starlight. Queen of the Sun.

The man muttered at her feet, oblivious that she had answered his call. So she knelt, pressing her knees to the dirty ground and bent her head over his.

She pressed her hands on either side of his face, smoothing her thumbs over her cheekbones. His eyes widened as their gazes met.

“My Goddess,” he whispered. “You are great and powerful. Thank you for -”

“No more speaking,” she interrupted. “I heard your call. And though you are gravely injured and your magic is horribly tainted, I take that from you now. Your judgment day has arrived, Void. You have been measured and found wanting.”

Malachi nodded, his warped features twisting even further. “It is as it should be. Destroy me then.”

“I have no desire for any more death.”

She leaned forward, kissing his forehead gently. Her lips left a golden mark that spread across his body and healed his wounds. She stripped his magic from him and devoured the poisonous hatred which had ridden upon his shoulders for

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