Prologue: 8th's Confession
The garden was quiet except for the clink of porcelain. She poured a tea to the teacup, the steam rising between her and the young lad, carrying the faint scent of jasmine.
“They say seven is the number of perfection,” she began, almost casually, as though they were talking about the weather. “Seven continents. Seven seas. Seven colors in the rainbow. Seven chakras to align the soul.” Her lips tilted in the smallest smile. “Even sin bows to it. Seven masks, each wearing a face of a friend.”
He glanced at her, curious. “Friends?”
“Yes, and I had seven of them.” she said simply, her fingers steady on the teapot.
“Had?” he repeated, leaning back in his chair.
She looked at him then, just for a momeny something in her gaze made him sit a little straighter. “Yes. Had.”
For a while she said nothing, letting the breeze fill the silence. “To the world, we were inseparable. Nearly twelve years together. Eight of us, tangled up in each other’s lives. Everyone thought we were perfect. I thought I belonged.” She set the pot down, her hand lingering on the handle. “I didn’t.”
Her beauty wasn’t loud, wasn’t showy, but it filled the space between them in a way that made him forget the tea. Pale skin that caught the light like porcelain, long dark hair stirring with the wind, a smile that never quite told you which way it would turn.
He started to speak, but she raised a finger to her lips. “Shh.”
He obeyed.
“They wore their sins like skin,” she continued. “Pride. Greed. Lust. Envy. Gluttony. Wrath. Sloth. Together, they made a perfect circle. Closed. Flawless. And me? I was the crack in their mirror.” Her voice dropped slightly. “So they broke me.”
The words lingered in the air, heavy enough to weigh down the sunlight. She didn’t move, didn’t blink, as the memory flickered behind her eyes. A tear slid down her cheek, but she didn’t brush it away.
“They thought I was gone,” she said quietly. “Buried. But my grave was shallow, dug by clean hands.” Another tear fell, and this time, she smiled a small, uneven thing that didn’t reach her eyes. “Bones remember. Blood doesn’t sleep. The earth split open for me like a second birth.”
She leaned back in her chair, her gaze far away now. “I came back. Not to forgive. Not to forget. But to finish what justice wouldn’t touch.”
He said nothing.
Her eyes finally met his again, and this time, there was no softness in them. “Seven sins made me,” she said. “But I’m not a sin.” She set her cup down with a soft click. “I’m the consequence.”
Pride will choke on her own reflection,
Greed will drown in what he tried to steal,
Lust will burn by the same flame he fed,
Envy will rot beneath my heel,
Gluttony will eat until nothing’s left,
Wrath will bleed by his own hand,
Sloth will sleep through his own ending
And I will watch, I will stand.
I am the silence after the scream,
The shadow behind the grin.
I am the truth they tried to silence.
