A/N: This is not a chapter for the faint-hearted.

Thousands of Years Ago…

Repressing a scowl, Emma stared at up at the gigantic statue that loomed tall over this section of the city. Composed of pure white platinum, it depicted the majestic visage of the one true Goddess standing in triumph above her subjects. Knowing that, if she failed to do so, the Watchers would likely arrest her on the spot, the eleven-year-old girl bowed low before the statue. The cold stung at her forehead as she pressed it to the snow-covered ground, but it was far less pain than she would experience in one of the prisons.

As in every other city, all residents were required to pass through the central plaza on their way home from the fields, and bow in supplication before the visage of their Divine Empress. The plaza and the few blocks around it were ringed by the great estates of the city's Faithful: magic wielders and their families. Each mansion was staffed by a hundred servants, none of whom would have chosen the job willingly. Any member of the Faithful was allowed to strike down any Ungifted at any time; no reason or justification was required. The reverse was punishable by crucifixion.

It had been a hard day at work. As an eleven-year-old, Emma was only required to spend nine hours of her day farming. Still, it had been nothing short of hell. The omnipresent snowfall made the job tremendously difficult, and the hunger eating at her stomach caused the hours to pass by twice as slowly.

All of the food harvested by the city's farmers was collected by an Observer to later be rationed out to the city's residents. The estates of the Faithful received a full half of the accumulated goods (much of which would go unused), and the remainder was divided up by the city's Ungifted population. It was usually enough to stave off the threat of starvation, but that was before the Goddess's recent visit to the city. Unsatisfied with the amount of adulation and reverence she'd received from the peasantry, the Divine Empress had cut their percentage of the food rations to thirty-five percent.

Emma made her way back home with the utmost care. Fighting often broke out these days over food, and the city's Watchers did little to stop it so long as it did not disturb the Faithful or damage their property. It wasn't long after she left the plaza that the gilded mansions of the Faithful gave way to the wooden huts and shacks of the Ungifted.

Still, she mused, at least tomorrow was Church. For several hours, she and the rest of the Ungifted would stand before one of the less senior members of the Faithful and learn once against about their glorious Goddess's rightful claim on the world.

The Faithful always stated that the Divine Empress had ruled since the dawn of humanity. Her unmatched power made her the rightful and unchallenged ruler of the entire world; to even believe differently was treasonous. The natural order then set the Faithful above the Ungifted, thanks to their magical abilities.

The Ungifted owed everything to the grace of their Divine Empress. It was only by her mercy that two months of the year were blessed with spring. They were required by the fundamental truths of the world to willingly, eagerly, and zealously serve and admire those above them. Emma and the rest of the Ungifted existed to please their Goddess.

Emma knew too much to believe such drivel, but at least Church would allow her to spend several waking hours without manual labor. Not that she had a choice. Any family who had a member fail to attend Church forfeited all rations for the entire week.

Finally, she made her way to the small two-room shack she shared with her grandfather. Emma had only known her parents briefly, and it had been too early in her life to remember. Emma's mother had survived childbirth, but she had been infected with a serious illness in the process. Only the Faithful had access to the kind of medicine she needed. Emma's father had desperately begged for a sample of the precious liquid, and when that failed, he'd attempted to break into one of the Faithful's storerooms.

So now, Emma was an orphan.

Her grandfather was waiting for her, sitting on the small moldy cot the two of them slept on. Emma pointedly ignored the only object of any value within their dwelling: the stainless steel statue of the Goddess that she was expected to bow to upon entering.

The two of them quickly ate their meager rations, having been lucky enough to hide them from persistent thieves. Still hungry, Emma turned to her only source of entertainment in the world.

"Tell me a story, papa!"

"Of course, Princess," he said, picking her up and placing her on his lap. "As long as you remember the rule about all of my stories."

Emma nodded. "Don't tell anyone!" she repeated dutifully, and her papa ruffled her hair. She knew the punishment for words of dissent about the Goddess...or talking about the history that had been nearly wiped out of the public's consciousness. Long ago, Emma's family had seen the importance in keeping the truth known, and since then has always passed down details of the true history to younger generations.

Her grandfather had imparted on her what would happen if the Watchers discovered this. A slow death on the cross awaited all who spoke against the Goddess, even in private. Accordingly, Emma had only ever repeated her grandfather's stories to one person. His name was Horace; he was a young boy who often worked the fields beside her. Save for her grandfather, he was the only person she trusted.

"Long ago, a different god ruled this earth. He was King above all the other divines, yet he ruled humanity with wisdom and kindness. Springs lasted for ten months a year, flowers bloomed across the earth, and rare was the adult or child that did not have enough food. All of humanity was equal, mages and Ungifted alike," he began, stopping only to cough. At sixty years of age, he was one of the oldest Ungifted in the city, and his health had been diminishing in recent years. Even now, during what was supposed to be a happy time, Emma couldn't help but fear for him.

"Prosperity reigned for countless years...until an envious force worked to bring the King's downfall. She matched him in power, but was cunning enough to end his rule through other means. This goddess struck down the woman he loved, a human woman, and the resulting chain of events sent the world spiraling into conflict. By the end of that war between the gods, only one divine remained: the one who had started it all," he continued.

"Will she ever vanish too?" Emma asked eagerly. She already knew the answer she would be given, but it was wonderful to hear all the same.

"Yes. We may never see it, but it will happen one day. One day, humanity will rise up against her, and she will be dispersed to the wind," her papa answered. "A Seer predicted this long ago, shortly before her rise, and Seer's are never wrong."

Emma smiled. "And she'll be gone forever?" she asked happily.

Her papa hesitated briefly, and Emma had the distinct impression that he was making a difficult decision. Finally, with a frown, he reluctantly continued.

"I...I didn't want to tell you this, but if anything would happen to me...you need to know the truth. That same prophecy predicted that she may return after being vanquished...but only after thousands of years," he said reassuringly.

Emma's heart sank at the thought that humanity would never truly be rid of the goddess. "Are...are you sure that prophecies can't be wrong?"

Her papa nodded sadly. "There's still two surviving lines from another prophecy, one that dates back before the King's fall. The price of her return shall be a war that burns across the entire earth. And when the Divines vanish and the flames of their war fade, the cold winds will rise. It was all too true, I'm afraid," he finished sadly.

Emma frowned. "Didn't the King try to stop it?"

"I'm sure he would have, if he'd known. The Seer who made that prophecy told no one about her predictions; she wrote it down in a journal that was not discovered until the war had already begun," he asnwered.

"Why didn't he-"

"Why didn't he tell anyone?" her papa finished gently. "Prophecies can't be stopped. Every time people have tried, things have only been made worse. Perhaps this Seer wanted to prevent more damage."

Emma sighed. Not for the first time, she wished she'd been born hundreds of years ago, during the reign of the King. Even thinking about a ten-month spring made her excited. But instead, she was cursed to spend her life under the reign of a goddess whose time may never end. Now she couldn't even take comfort of the fact that she would eventually fall.

Not if she would be back to pick up where she left off.

"Well," her grandfather sighed. "I'm sorry this wasn't the tale you were hoping for. Tomorrow night will be a happy one; I promise!" he smiled.

"Well, since I didn't get a good story tonight, shouldn't I have two tomorrow?" Emma asked sweetly.

Her papa smiled. "You certainly are your mother's daughter. Hmm...maybe if you're quiet during Church tomorrow-"

A loud bang echoed throughout their shack as the door splintered open.

Three members of the Watch stormed in, two massive men and one thin, sour-faced woman. Each wore the uniforms typical of their order, pitch black save for the dark blue snowflakes imprinted on their shoulders.

"We have it on good authority you've been talking treason, old man," one of the men said to her grandfather.

Despite the situation, her papa remained calm. "I am a devout servant of our beloved Divine Empress," he replied immediately. "Who would dare accuse me of such a preposterous crime?"

The woman's gaze turned to glare at Emma. "One of the farmhands came to us with the knowledge. Your granddaughter's been telling her filthy lies to her son."

Emma gasped. She could only mean Horace. Her best friend had betrayed her. Immediately, she knew why. Anyone who reported treason and had their accusations confirmed received extra rations from the crown. Emma had known that Horace's family was struggling, but she still couldn't believe...

"The girl's reaction is proof enough. Confess, old man, and we will spare your granddaughter the cross," the woman said.

Emma couldn't help but begin to cry. Her grandfather was going to be crucified...all because of her! "No!" she said. "He didn't do anything!"

Her papa looked at her sadly. She could see the fear in his eyes, but somehow, there was no anger. "I...I am guilty," he confessed, closing his eyes in consternation.

"No, papa!" she cried, as the men moved towards him.

"I love you, Emma. You'll have to survive without me. I know you can; you're a strong girl. We'll always be watching over you. Me, and your mother and your father. Don't give up, Emma...never give up," he said.

The woman laughed. "You're wasting your breath, old man. The girl is as guilty as you, and she will suffer the same fate. Take her," she motioned to the men.

"No!" he moved to block their path, but the woman simply raised her hand. A blast of air erupted from her palm. It hit her grandfather full in the chest, knocking him onto the floor.

"She's just a girl..." he protested weakly as he was hauled to his feet.

The woman shrugged. "All traitors meet the same fate," she said coldly. "There's only one punishment fit for rebellion against our divine empress."

Emma's heart was a black hole of dread. She was going to be crucified. She was going to be crucified!

"When will you Ungifted learn?" the woman questioned. And with that, Emma and her grandfather were hauled out into the night.

/

The next morning saw their bodies nailed to two crosses in the center of the plaza, displayed for all their fellows to see. Emma, slowly bleeding out from the wounds in her hands and legs, looked up to see the massive statue of the Goddess. It was the last sight she ever saw.

As the life left her body, Emma's head drooped forward, bowing before the visage of her Divine Empress one final time.