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It was supposed to be a simple testing of the Divergent Universe. No one was supposed to find out. No one was supposed to know what happened. Ratio refused to look Aventurine in the eye as they left the Divergent Universe after a failed run as Ratio so bluntly put it. The Intelligentsia Guild scholar promptly left Aventurine behind, the unwanted memories bubbling to the surface. The intense urge, a voice eerily similar to his younger self, begged him to find a safe place to hide. The world around him swayed and blurred and his chest tightened. Tears burned his eyes. When was the last time he cried? His knees wobbled and he collapsed to the floor, gasping for air.
None of this was supposed to happen. Why did it have to be Aventurine of all people? Ratio clenched his jaw. “Why did it have to be that damned gambler?” he whispered to himself, struggling to breath properly. Panic and anxiety crashed over him like vicious waves. He missed his home. He missed his family. He…wanted to go home. How childish of him. “Stop whining and get up! Stop being foolish, Veritas.” Cruel words echoed through his mind. There was no room to be childish. He had to suck it up, get up, and get back to his routine. But…why was it so hard? His limbs wouldn’t obey his desire to move. His body felt heavy and sluggish. Something wet slid down his cheek. What had he started crying?
Aventurine understood why Ratio had left. He didn’t chase the doctor down. How could he after what he had seen? Both of their memories had been violated because of a corrupted curio in the Divergent Universe. Screwllum promised that the Curio would be removed from the equation. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what Ratio had seen about him. Aventurine had an inkling Ratio already knew about his past. Aventurine liked to think he knew Ratio. However, the Curio only proved how wrong the Stoneheart was.
“Hold on!” Blood covered his small hands as he desperately tried to stop the bleeding. The girl coughed up more blood and the light drained from her eyes. “No!” Veritas screamed, tears streaming down his cheeks. The blood on his hands was warm and sticky, but her body was growing cold. “Why didn’t you listen to me?” he yelled at her lifeless body. “You didn’t have to die…”
Day turned to night by the time Veritas pulled himself away from her body and built a funeral pyre to give her a proper send off. His tears had long dried up and the blood on his hands crusted and peeled. Once the flames died down to embers, he left the pyre. Picking up Aegis didn’t feel right anymore. All he had to do was return the divine shield to his mother and all would be well.
Veritas should have found it strange how she wanted him to meet her at one of her temples instead of the Divine City. He had wrapped Aegis up in a cloth to keep from “tainting” the metal with his mortality or with the blood on his hands. The young boy carefully and reverently entered the temple of Athena. Many different species of owls flew around, some looking down at him from the pillars and beams. A soft smile appeared on his face when two smaller owls with brown and white plumage landed on his shoulders.
“Sophia, Libertas!” Veritas smiled softly, a small sense of happiness showing itself. The owls trilled and Veritas went deeper into the temple. A regal woman stood by the altar. She wore a white toga with gold accents, gold boots, and a golden helmet. In her left hand was a spear. She had piercing gray eyes. Veritas stopped in his tracks and swallowed down the pit in his throat. He did a good job, right? He brought her shield back to her. He sucked in a sharp breath and walked up to her.
“You’re late,” Her voice echoed, cold and detached. Her eyes held nothing but disdain for him. She sneered when looked at the covered Aegis. “Put it down. You don't deserve to even touch it while covered,” she spat.
Veritas hated the way he flinched, and he put the divine shield down. He swallowed thickly and bowed his head with respect. “I apologize, Mother,” he murmured. Sophia and Libertas flew to one of the beams above him. Athena didn’t spare him a glance and looked slightly disgusted at her covered shield. She’d have to cleanse the shield.
“You failed me,” Athena declared. “You let your teammates die on this quest that was never meant for you.” Her gray eyes pierced his very soul. “If I wanted you to retrieve my shield, I would have asked you.” Veritas flinched back as her voice grew in volume and anger. Her gray eyes began to glow silver. His body trembled and he instinctively stepped back.
Athena drew closer to him, looming over him as her stature grew taller and taller until she was nearly as tall as the temple’s ceiling. Veritas scrambled back until he was cowering in the corner. His heart pounded in his chest, his body trembling beneath her angry gaze. Fear flashed through his eyes. Would she kill her own son? Who was he kidding? Of course she would kill him. She hated him.
Athena raised her spear and slammed it into the wall next to Veritas. He screamed and curled back, eyes wide with panic. His heart started beating impossibly faster. He didn’t want to die! He didn’t want to die!
“Mother, please,” he begged. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.” Tears welled in his eyes. “I don’t want to die,” he whispered brokenly, voice small and quiet. He averted his gaze away from her, focusing instead on the blood on his hands—blood that had been spilled too early. They were just kids. No one was supposed to die. If only they had listened to him. He had a plan, but they disregarded him.
“SILENCE!” Athena boomed and Veritas shut his mouth. The furious goddess stared down at her son like he was nothing but a bug to be squashed. The owls in the room had all disappeared except for Sophia and Libertas. The goddess of wisdom leaned down to look at Veritas. “The only reason you are still alive is because I promised your father I wouldn’t kill you. Count yourself lucky.”
“Moth–” Veritas flinched again when Athena’s eyes glowed brighter. He went quiet.
“You are not my son,” Athena scoffed. “You are simply a miscalculation on my part. I don’t want to see you near my temples again, nor do I want to hear any prayers from you.” Veritas felt tears streaming down his face. “Stop your senseless wailing!” she snapped at him.
“Mother, please,” Veritas cried, eyes wide. “Don’t leave me.”
“I am not your mother!” Athena roared. “Now leave this place!” she demanded, disappearing in a bright flash of light that had Veritas closing his eyes to keep from burning to ashes. If a mortal saw a god’s true form, they’d be instantly burned and killed. Demigods were no different.
Veritas crumbled to the ground, heart breaking wails echoing throughout the temple. He slammed his bloodied fists against the ground, screaming and crying his heart out. The sting of failure had been replaced by the cruel sting of rejection. He always knew he was never his mother’s favorite child, but hearing that she outright rejected him, broke him. Sophia and Libertas tried to comfort him. But—
— Aventurine would never be able to forget those screams, or the way the light in Ratio’s eyes faded. He understood why Ratio didn’t look him in the eyes nor did he blame Ratio for taking off so quickly. He didn’t know how to articulate to Ratio that he didn’t see him any differently. In fact, he was angry on Ratio’s behalf.
How dare someone tell Ratio that he was a ‘miscalculation’! Aventurine wanted to tear her limb from limb for daring to utter those words. But, alas, he couldn’t do anything. Maybe that was the cruelty of dealing with the divine. No matter how hard you’d try, you wouldn’t be able to fight against them or try to defy them. Aventurine clenched his fist. It wasn’t right nor was it fair. But little in life was right or fair.
Later on, he would blame himself for not immediately following Ratio. When he went to go check on Ratio in his hotel room, he found the doctor dissociating. It took a lot of comforting to convince Ratio to come back to reality. The scholar kept uncharacteristically quiet the entire time, letting Aventurine help him into a warm bath and then into bed. Laying next to Ratio, Aventurine gently brushed a lock of hair out of Ratio’s face.
“I still love you no matter what,” Aventurine whispered to Ratio, hugging him tightly.