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They say when someone is dying, their whole life flashes before their eyes. Here and now, at her last moments, Embla realized not even the gods are an exception to that.
Everything is going to end soon, and yet, she feels no peace, no comfort. Her hatred, resentment and, above all, her loneliness are stronger than they have ever been.
In her mind, she could do nothing but curse Askr. Curse him for reaching out to her back then, for convincing her to bless that mortal kingdom, for making her fond of those lesser beings.
If it hadn't been for him... She would've never let her guard down. She would've realized that mortal's killing intent sooner, wouldn't have been so shaken. If it hadn't been for him, she wouldn't have become so paranoid, so lonely.
If it hadn't been for him... She would've never known the warmth of those mortals, would've never felt their love and devotion. She would've never felt the despair of slowly losing it all, of slowly growing to distrust them, of seeing them all slipping away like grains of sand from her grasp.
If it hadn't been for him... She wouldn't have spiraled so deeply into this madness. At the very least, he was dead, like the pathetic excuse of a god he was.
And yet, that thought brought her no comfort, no joy, no vindication. He'd died because of her, like she always wished, and yet, that thought only deepened her despair.
Curse that wretched god, curse the mortals who turned their back on her...
Curse her own foolishness.
The world is getting darker, and it hurts so much. In hindsight, if she'd let that mortal kill her that day... Would it have hurt just as much?
"...Askr..."
She wanted to see him again. Strangle him with her own two hands, until that infuriating smile of his vanished from his face, until he finally dropped his friendly attitude, until he finally said...
...I'm sorry.