Erador burst into his father’s bedroom. “Get out, Mikra!”

  “What’s that?” Judgment mumbled.

  Mikra stood from the stool, protectively beside Judgment, but Erador didn’t back down. He wanted to hit his father for what he’d done to Sescina, and Mikra wouldn’t change his mind. His father deserved judgment.

  “I want to be alone with my father,” Erador growled.

  Judgment gave a slow nod and Mikra left.

  Erador took hard steps toward the bed. His father’s veiny hands that rested on the sheet reminded him of Sescina’s and exacerbated his anger. But the wheezy breaths, reminded Erador that his father was nothing.

  “What do you want my son?” Judgment said, cheerfully.

  Erador took in a shaky painful breath, as he tried to quell his emotions. “Why did you do that to Sescina?”

  “Do what?”

  “She’s dying because of you!”

  Judgment coughed. “She has chosen to heal me. I didn’t make her.”

  “You fooled her.” Erador contained his voice to a shaky whisper. “She gives her life away because she believes you’ll find Paradise. Everyone gives their lives for a place that doesn't exist.”

  Judgment let out a slow breath. “Sescina deserves a place more than anyone in Paradise and only we can provide that.”

  Erador bit down the words he wanted to scream. “You’re brainwashing them. Sescina is suffering for a dying and manipulative fool.”

  “Why don’t you tell her that?”

  “You already have her under your control.”

  “If she chooses to end her services, then she may. I have not forced her to take care of me nor have I done it to any of you.”

  Erador blinked and looked at his feet. His father was right. They weren’t forced to watch him. Erador did it because he felt it was his responsibility. And the other Paradins still had faith he would be reborn. He didn’t have to force them because they were willing. Other than Loma, Cade, and Eli, Aminria was the only Paradin who never watched his father and she seemed to be in good enough health to do so. That didn’t change the fact that his father was good at manipulating people to help him.

  “You don’t have to say it because you’ve already tricked them into it,” Erador said. “Now that we’re this far in, if any of us back out, we would be seen as a traitor, not just to you but to all of us. So what choice do we have?”

  Judgment lifted his hand. “Take a look at your mark, Erador.”

  Erador didn’t look down, knowing his father couldn’t see, but he asked again. Likely because he knew Erador wouldn’t. He followed his wishes, regretting seeing the green moth he detested.

  Erador rolled his eyes. “Am I supposed to feel something magical?”

  “I designed those marks to give people what they've been searching for-a purpose. It’s meant to teach them to respect every living being around them.”

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  “You’ve set a good example, haven’t you?” Erador barked out a laugh. “With your lavish parties, hidden identity, and calling yourself Judgment.”

  His father pinched his eyes shut and Erador smirked at that reaction. Judgment tried to indoctrinate the idea of balance in their society, but he would never admit it was actually the opposite.

  “I became a guide for our people. So many were lost until they came here,” Judgment said. “Don’t you remember how happy they were?”

  Erador didn’t want to remember. The smiling faces seemed like a facade. Deep down, Erador wasn’t happy. He remembered being told to not look sad, to be grateful for this wonderful society his father had built. Some had called him ungrateful and spoiled for his bad behavior, but he only lashed out to feel seen.

  “How many were truly happy?” Erador whispered.

  “All of them,” Judgment said, with confidence. “I had received many letters that said how grateful they were to be here.”

  Erador didn’t doubt those existed, but for him to assume that every person was happy was wrong. Maybe it was an improvement from their previous home or they ran here like Pia’s mother.

  “Then explain why Taurin defied you,” Erador said.

  “Retribution wasn’t enough for him. He wanted more.”

  “It’s that simple, right? Taurin felt overshadowed by you, our holy god.”

  Judgment nodded. “He did.”

  Erador couldn’t believe that after the lies he’d been told. Haven had her reasons for liking Taurin, though Erador couldn’t see it but it meant he was more than someone who wanted power. Taurin was more than a punisher; many spoke well of him and were upset after he didn’t return. That should’ve caused conflict and divide, but the followers believed his father, because he was all that was left. Who else did they have to lead them to the slaughter?

  “Indoctrination doesn't work on everyone,” Erador spat. “It didn't on Taurin and it won’t on me, no matter how hard you try, father. So maybe Taurin was sick of you pushing your ideals onto him and everyone else and it’s why he rebelled.”

  Judgment’s nostrils flared. “This society was built on the principles that we should come together. People who are unwilling to make sacrifices for everyone’s well-being are not welcome.”

  “That’s not it. You’re afraid to lose control,” Erador said, raising his voice. “You don’t want anyone to think differently. You tried to mold me by beating me and grounding me, and what did it do? It made me resent you, and this fucking religion!” Erador leaned over the bed. “Can I blame Taurin for letting Gillian be beaten nearly to death after she caused us nothing but problems?”

  Judgment tensed his jaw. “You’re fine with him letting her die?”

  “Maybe,” Erador paused. “Because look where we are?”

  “You know nothing,” Judgment growled.

  “I understand why Haven let you choke on your blood when you told her that you wished Eli never found her and she died in the forest.”

  “That’s a lie!”

  “I wish it was.”

  Scoffing, Erador walked across the room and ruffled his hair as he stared at the sunflower wallpaper, feeling nothing but resentment for it. He wanted to dig his fingers into it and tear it from the walls, but he turned his back to it and looked at his father in his bed.

  Judgment was frail and thin, as if he couldn’t even open his mouth to speak. He looked pathetic. How was he scared of this man?

  “I wish my father never told me that I was worthless. I wish he didn’t tell me that he would've preferred my mother had abandoned me where wolves could eat me.”

  “You were ungrateful,” Judgment said, lifting a fist. “I was making that clear!”

  Erador shook his head and wiped away the building moisture in his eyes. “It was clear you never loved me.”

  “Here we go again,” Judgment mumbled.

  “I’ve shown compassion and care for you in your current state.” Erador looked his father over. “Where was that for me? You’ve been nothing but selfish unlike what your mark is supposed to mean.”

  “I have done everything for you!” Judgment said, hitting the bed. “I took Lucrethia, so my future children could have a safe and beautiful place to be accepted. Your grandfather fought to give me a better life and your grandmother died trying to get it. I didn’t want that for my family or anyone! Would you call that selfish?”

  “It was built to give you a stable place at the top. Pia and Breck were murdered and wasted what little lives they had on what future here? Lucrethia is not glorious, not anymore.”

  “Our light has not died.” Judgment drew his fingers to his chest. “We’re still here. Lucrethia stands.”

  “When that light goes out...” Erador cocked his head, “what then?”

  “It’s not going to die.”

  Erador shook his head. “When your father died, his kingdom fell apart and his legacy went with it. No one cares about him anymore and no one will care when you’re dead.”

  Judgment’s lips tightened. “I carry his legacy. Who do you think discovered Paradise?”

  Erador let out a small chuckle. “So, your father was just as mad?”

  “He was not mad,” Judgment said, irritated. “He was a brilliant man who sacrificed everything to find peace for his people.”

  Erador licked his lip and laughed. “I’m starting to see a resemblance.”

  Judgment sucked in a wheezy breath and dismissed Erador’s mocking comment with a hand wave. “It’ll be a long time before I die, Erador. I have much to accomplish.”

  Erador wanted to fight his father on those words, but every sensible thing he said wouldn’t change him. He could only admit that he’s never known anyone who fought this hard. Erador wasn’t sure he could.

  He pulled the dove statue from the shelf and brushed off the dust gently as his lips lifted into a slight smile. No matter how much he yelled and fought, Sescina's commitment to his father could never be severed. Though Judgment had suffered for so long, it wasn’t enough punishment for what he’d done. His rebirth would never come and Erador wasn’t sure he could let everything go. Maybe Eli, Haven, and Aminria were right. He needed to break his anchor away and swim free.