"Lysa... just open the door a little, sweetheart. Mom only wants to see your face up close."
Seraphine's voice sounded hoarse, muffled by the thick oak door carved with gold that separated them. On the other side, Lysandra sat hugging her knees on the cold marble floor. She was only a few feet from the door, but it felt as though an endless ocean lay between them.
"Don't, Mom," Lysandra replied, her voice trembling. "If you get too close... the door magic will react. I don't want you to get hurt again like last time."
"I don't care, Lysa. I'm willing to endure the pain if it means I can hold your hand. You've locked yourself away all day. I'm worried," Seraphine sobbed from outside. The sound of her palm touching the door could be heard, as if she were trying to pierce the hard wood and reach her daughter.
"You have to care!" Lysandra bit down hard on her lower lip, holding back the tears that had been threatening to spill all this time. "Did you forget how your hand blistered and burned last month just because you accidentally touched the edge of my dress? It took three weeks for the wound to heal, Mom. I can't... I can't stand watching you suffer because of me."
Silence fell for a moment. The only sound was Seraphine's ragged breathing as she struggled not to cry.
"I'm the one who's at fault, Lysa. This is all my fault," Seraphine whispered, her voice filled with despair. "What kind of mother brings a curse to her own child at birth? What kind of mother can't hug her child when she's crying?"
"This isn't your fault. I've told you thousands of times, this isn't your fault. This is my destiny," Lysandra answered quickly. She hated seeing her mother blame herself. But deep down, she was falling apart too. She needed a hug. She desperately needed a mother's embrace.
"If it's not my fault, then whose is it, sweetheart? Why would the gods up there inflict such a cruel punishment on our family? You're the Goddess of Life... so why do you bring death to anyone who touches you?"
Her mother's question hung in the air, creating a torturous silence. Lysandra didn't have an answer. She never had.
"Enough, Mom. Please go back to your room. Dad will be home from the council hall soon. If he sees you crying in front of my room, he'll get angry again," Lysandra said softly, trying to end the conversation that was draining her more and more emotionally.
"Your father is far too hard on you, Lysa."
"Dad just wants to protect me, Mom. Just like you."
"Protect you? By locking you up like a prisoner in this palace? You're not allowed to leave, and you're not allowed to socialize. Your only friend is Elira. That's not protection, sweetheart. That's a prison."
"Mom... please." Lysandra covered both her ears. "I'm tired. Please leave me alone for a while."
A long, burdened sigh came from beyond the door.
"All right. I'll leave your food on the table in front of the door, okay? Please eat it after I leave. You haven't touched any food since this morning." Seraphine's footsteps slowly retreated, dragging with exhaustion.
After making sure her mother was truly gone, Lysandra buried her face between her knees. Her tears finally spilled uncontrollably. This isolation was slowly killing her. She had the title of Goddess of Life, beautiful silver wings, and a face that was constantly worshiped from afar, yet she felt lower than dust.
"You're crying again, Lys?"
That cheerful voice startled Lysandra, who had been sitting lost in thought on a bench in the palace garden. She hurriedly wiped the tear tracks from her cheeks and turned around. Elira, the Moon Goddess and the only friend she had, stood about six feet away. The safe distance they always maintained.
"I'm not. I just got some dust in my eyes," Lysandra lied, forcing a smile.
Elira gave a soft snort, then sat down on the grass, keeping exactly six feet between herself and Lysandra's bench. "That's such an obvious lie. Your eyes are all red. Did you fight with your dad again? Or is it because of Aunt Seraphine?"
"Mom," Lysandra answered shortly. "She was crying in front of my door again. Asking for a hug."
Elira's expression immediately turned sorrowful. "And? You turned her down again?"
"What do you think I should do, El? Accept her hug and let her body burn until she loses her life? I'm not that cruel." Lysandra lowered her head, playing with the edge of her silver dress.
"I know, Lys. I know. But it must be so hard for both of you," Elira said softly. "Sometimes I think this curse is so unfair to you. You're the kindest person I've ever known. Why did it have to be you?"
"Maybe I was a great villain in my past life who destroyed the world," Lysandra joked bitterly.
"Don't say that. You know, at the harvest festival last night, everyone was asking about you. All the young gods were hoping you'd come." Elira tried to steer the conversation in a more cheerful direction.
"Asking about me? Why? So they could put me on display? Or bet on who would dare touch me and survive?" Lysandra sneered sharply.
"Lys..."
"That's the truth, isn't it, El? I'm an anomaly. They look at me like I'm some fragile, dangerous antique. No one really cares."
"I care," Elira cut in firmly. "Aunt Seraphine cares. Caelus cares too."
Lysandra let out a long sigh. "I know. I'm sorry, El. My mind's a mess right now."
Lysandra looked toward a small gathering of gods and goddesses at the far end of the garden. They were chatting together. Some of them were hugging, holding hands, and laughing freely. A young god was gently stroking his partner's hair.
Lysandra's chest tightened at the sight. It was a simple scene that was always an emotional torment to her.
"You're watching them again," Elira said gently, realizing where her friend's gaze had gone.
"What's it like, El? Being touched by someone else without feeling afraid?" Lysandra asked softly, almost in a whisper.
Elira fell silent, unsure how to answer. "It's pretty normal, actually. Warm."
"Warm..." Lysandra repeated the word. It was a feeling utterly foreign to her. "I've forgotten what warmth feels like. Everyone around me always keeps their distance. And even when they come close, their eyes are filled with fear. I only want one thing in my life, El. Just one thing."
"What?"
"Someone who can hold my hand without feeling pain. Someone who doesn't look at me like I'm a monster. Is that too much to ask?"