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Motungo followed her into his meager den. She swayed her wings and hips slowly as she walked into the darkness. She was both alluring and repulsive to him. She was a work of art turned into the greatest profanity, and he hated her presence. Gods, why did the Thief make her look like that?

He brought up a fraction of a wisp from within himself and used it to spark a small fire at the center of the miniscule room he called his den. It would have been an utter shame to show anyone back at the Covenant, but in his new life it served its purpose. From outside, miners from the mine had tunneled a short distance into the rock, then made a sharp turn and made a room large enough for Motungo to move about in. In the center was a recessed pit for a fire. At the farthest end was the small stack of rags and cloths he used as a nest. There were a few smaller recesses he used to store his few possessions. There was no sculpting on the rock surfaces, no statuettes, all the surfaces were rough. He lived in utter poverty as far as anyone could be concerned. He hoped Mercy wouldn't comment and add insult to his already shattered nerves.

"Just sit wherever you want." Motungo said with a dismissive wave of a wing.

"Thank you." Mercy nodded and sat beside his nest. She curled her tail around her paws and watched him.

Motungo decided to sit across the fire pit from her. He would be close to the tunnel back outside, and there would at least be a fire between them. Maybe the small fire would deter her from attacking him, but the moment the idea flared in his mind he knew it was pointless. He would have to get her out of his den as fast as possible, the light of the flickering flames made her face look ghastly. It was still a dragon's face, but it lacked some living quality about it, almost as if she was made of stone. She still breathed and moved like a living creature. She even imitated an attractive one in some ways. Just stop thinking that. Gods that's repulsive.

"So what do you want?"

"To talk."

"Why?"

"Is that such a bad thing to ask?"

"Yes! I might as well be talking to the Thief right now with you in here. Have you lost your mind? You're a boneweaver. If the rest of the Covenant were here we would all do our best to tear you apart and scatter your-"

"I know." She glared at him, her wings spreading threateningly, "That has happened more times than I care to remember, if you don't mind."

"Fine."

She rested her wings again. Her features lost their menacing look and shook her head.

"Alright," She said in an exasperated voice. "we won't do this the way I'd hoped. We'll do this the much harder way. I understand that you and I have a few differences-"

"A few?"

"and that you just won't accept those. So just listen to what I've got to say and I'll leave you alone."

She stopped and leaned her head forward, as if she was daring him to retort. While the conversation seemed to be taking a faster path now, Motungo still knew better than to hope for any good end to it.

"I want to give you something." She lifted a paw to keep him from speaking, "Before you refuse, know it is also my apology to you as well. I want to give you a chance at having a part of your old life back."

Stories from his schooling came roaring into his mind. Stories of dragons and other races of the world making deals with the gods and their avatars never seemed to be straightforward and usually unpleasant for the heroes. He couldn't remember a story where anyone made a deal with an Avatar of the Thief. That was all the evidence he needed to realize that Mercy was about to ruin his life again.

"You are so easy to read Motungo." Mercy shook her head, she looked so disappointed, "You don't make this easy. Here, I can help you see Cellista again. What you do then though is up to you and her."

Motungo rolled his head back and laughed. He couldn't help himself, and he knew laughing at one of the Virtues was the most foolhardy things he'd ever done. The laughter died quickly, fear mixed with anger brought his mirth to the ground.

"I'm sorry," Motungo said, "it's the idea of you trying to reunite me with the one that you tore me away from. I'm sure you can see the irony of the situation. I bet that's part of why you're even suggesting this, you find this amusing don't you? Is this how the gods have their fun? Ruin somebody's life and then rub it in their face later?

"She's still in the Covenant, and I very much doubt that you are about to just fly in there. Not only that, if I go in Covenant lands they will know and, thanks to you, kill me without a moment's hesitation. Your gift to me is nothing more than certain-"

"Do you even realize" Mercy drew herself up again, the wings spread, "just how hard it is for me to do this? Do you realize who and what I am? I am a Virtue Motungo, you are in the presence of a goddess. I am a goddess that is offering an apology! This is something that hasn't happened in ages, don't you realize? Ages! And I am the one that doing this. You can not even begin to fathom how humiliating this is. Much less how difficult it is for me to do this for you."

Motungo remembered just who he was talking with. Mercy only looked like a dragoness. What she really was, Motungo simply could not understand. In his tutoring there had been a few discussions about the nature of the gods, but they seemed to vague and abstract that he had pushed those ideas out of his head. I would have paid more attention to Kathagra if I had known this would happen.

They looked at one another across the fire. Neither moved nor made a sound. Shadows danced and dripped off of her features. He could see the strain in her face, and Motungo felt the idea creep into his head that Mercy might be telling him the truth.

"If this is so hard for you," Motungo said, "why are you doing this?"

Mercy turned her head away from him and closed her eyes. She drew in a soundless breath and let it out. "Because I love you, Motungo."