Page 328 of Of Sins and Sacrifice

The logical thing would have been to go to the House of Psyche after he died and then to the House of Moirai. Then why do I remember heeding some unknown female’s adviceand going to the House of Moirai first? And how did she know Marlowe’s name when even I did not know it?

In fact, why am I suddenly remembering direct confrontations with Cerenios when before I would have sworn we barely ever crossed paths?

Everything is confusing.

Even my interactions with Theron seem different, though they all ended in the same outcome—he repudiated me.

This time, however, he had proof that he presented to the authorities. And this time, it’s because of that proof I was imprisoned and cursed to have all mortals look upon me with adoration so I could never know their true intentions.

Except it never worked on Marlowe. Because he’s not mortal. He never was…

My eyes widen in shock at the biggest change. Mine could see the spiritual world—he couldn’t before. Whereas before he was my solace of normality, now my memories are shifting, pointing him out to be my partner in crime rather than my silent comfort.

My head feels as if it’s about to burst open, though I have no doubt Azerius would like that far too much. Every time I try to remember a specific event, a sharp pain spears through my skull. There is an echo of whatshouldhave happened in that memory. But when I recall it, it’s completely different.

What the…

All the changes seem to only revolve around him. Mine. Everything else feels the same, though at this point I don’t know how I can trust myself anymore.

Everything is changing in the blink of an eye, and I can’t keep track of what’s real or what’s not—what’s perhaps made up by my mind to survive this torture. Or…what he might have done to me.

Azerius, the God Killer.

He’s been trying to get information on Marlowe by digging into my brain—literally.

I don’t even know how long I’ve been here, or how long he’s been torturing me. I only remember the beginning. Being secured in place with magical runes and Azerius digging my eyes out so he can directly connect with my brain.

After that, everything is fuzzy, though the one constant is pain; my body being ravaged and trying to heal before being ravaged again.

Perhaps that’s why everything is different. Because Azerius has been messing so much with my mind, he might have caused permanent damage.

“W-what d-did you do t-o me?” I croak, my throat raw from pain.

He doesn’t answer me, merely going on about cleaning his fingers so there isn’t one drop of my blood on them.

“A-answer me!” I shout.

Moments trickle by. More memories resurface. They seem new and old at the same time, making me think I’m going crazy.

“Y-ou did something to m-my memories,” I shout. That makes him stop and glance up at me.

“I did no such thing,” he replies in a bored voice. Straightening his back, he walks toward me. “Though I find it odd that you would think so.”

“You d-did! Everything is wrong. Everything!” I cry out. Yet as I open my mouth to tell him what is wrong, I can’t remember. The new memories are now the only memories. I stare at him, mouth agape, unable to form a coherent sentence.

What did I want to tell him in the first place? I know something is wrong, but I cannot verbalize it. What in the Source is going on?

“Interesting,” he notes in the same robotic voice as before. “Though this session has been nothing short of enlightening.”

I blink. “Why?” I ask, almost afraid.

“There was something there, someone…” He presses his lips together. “They knew I was watching and did not want me to see something. Now that makes me even more curious. But it seems I will not be able to do it while you are alive, so I will just dissect your brain for any new information after your execution.”

His words are spoken casually as if he engages in such activities daily.

“Dissect my brain?” I repeat bleakly.

“I am still unsure what shields you used to keep me out, but I will find out,” he continues, more to himself.

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