She was without her guiding star, her Lady, so she had to rely on her rock, her Mister Stone.

  But where to start?

  So many choices.

  “If two of your children fall, you have to pick one up before the other,” he had said.

  What strategy should she favor?

  Raise the rent to fix the houses and people would freeze on the streets.

  Move capital from other assets and it would cause problems in other subsidiaries.

  Fire people to save expenses and people would freeze on the streets.

  Don’t invest in your assets and everything would be fine for now; later the assets would become unprofitable, people would lose their jobs, and they would…

  Freeze on the streets.

  It was all an interconnected web, a vast web of actions and reactions, too complex for a mortal to understand.

  Luckily for Socia she wasn’t mortal.

  She was a god.

  A goddess with luscious Rose Lips.

  So first she needed investors for capital, what luck they all wanted to meet her, or their children did, she was Liberty Cool after all.

  “Liberty’s loss. Harmony’s gain,” the magazines said.

  “Be Like Socia. Harmony Cool.”

  She walked the floor and what luck — she could see It all.

  She preferred not to fire people, but demoted some, and then she found the ones who wanted to make a change and were competent.

  Some work she did personally, late into the night, working in a way no mortal could sustain.

  What luck she was a goddess.

  She could feel the work in her bones, the pulse of commerce in her veins, the hustle and bustle on her skin.

  She could feel It.

  It would work.

  It would only take five years to turn it around.

  The houses would still be of poor quality, but there would be no mold, no leaks, no fire hazards, and maybe a decent paintjob occasionally.

  The goddess had performed her miracle.

  Five years.

  Three weeks to figure out it would take that amount of time.

  Truly a miracle.

  There was a knock on the door, and her rock entered.

  “Here is the plan for the cocktail party and who is coming as you asked,” Mister Stone said.

  What?

  I forgot.

  “When is it?” she said.

  “In an hour?” Mister Stone said, quite perplexed.

  What luck she was a goddess.

  Made a call to the right people, got a cab, got a dress with a slit, quite cool, Harmony Cool. She did after all invent the style, so they had a dress ready for her.

  She even got a cocktail hat which obscured her mark.

  Tonight, she was her own Socia.

  Her own guiding star.

  The party was for networking, old blood of the Scion kind, Kin clan leaders, the only mortals were servants, she could feel the tension.

  It was in the air. The hum of conversation.

  Bodies moving about, standing still, waves on a rocky shore.

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  Eyes turning, devouring her.

  As she entered as Socia.

  She let them devour her with their eyes, so that she could snare them into her net.

  Compliments from their mouths she consumed and gave them something to talk about in return.

  Sometimes she was even being a flirt, men or women, it mattered not.

  After all, she was Socia.

  She was It.

  A waiter spilled some wine on a Scion lord, a large man, two heads taller than those around him — he was quite the beast.

  He grabbed the man by his throat and lifted him up.

  The man struggled and thrashed for he could not breathe, for such was the beastly man’s might.

  Socia found this quite unbecoming and set about to make things right.

  After all, she was Socia.

  Her hand she put on his arm and said to the beastly man.

  “Kind sir of most noble kind, surely you can let this servant be.”

  “Would you not rather talk to a fine dame, such as me,” she said.

  And bit her lip, exposed her neck.

  The men that stood behind him seemed to agree and gave her looks.

  The man ignored Socia, and kept his grip, the servant began to shake.

  He’s killing him!

  “Stop at once, don’t you know I…” she said.

  The blow she didn’t see — it was too fast and she wasn’t prepared — sent her flying, made her strike the wall, but she was like stone and she didn’t break.

  The servant the beast had let loose and he now lay on the floor gasping for air, but now the beast was rushing towards her, with frightful speed.

  The beast struck a blow, but Socia wasn’t there, so his fist went through the wall.

  Socia struck now back, with fist and knees and sent the beast reeling back, she was unforgiving like the wind, and blood there was on her knuckles now, and it wasn’t hers.

  But the beast was unrelenting, and simply struck back, and his blows began to make Socia crack even though she was like stone.

  Around then the crowd cheered, though most didn’t seem to know who she was, since they cheered for him.

  Then a blow to her face she got, that sent her reeling to the floor, with the beast atop, there he landed blow after blow, on her until she caught his arm with her legs, and then with all her might made it go.

  Snap.

  But his will was unrelenting, his bones they set themselves back, and he picked her up with one arm, and slammed her on the floor with a.

  Crack.

  Again, and again.

  Crack. Crack.

  Until Socia felt how her spine cracked, and there was blood on her back, since the floor had broken, and the wood below splintered and broken.

  The world was red and a haze, but she fought on since she was Socia.

  The beast from her hold now was free, but Socia nimbly evaded him, and from the tables she passed she picked knives and forks up, and every time sent them his way, with awful might.

  They stuck to him but didn’t make him stop.

  Once again, he rushed at her with now even greater speed, strike after strike he threw at her, and even though she evaded most for she was like water, those that did, broke a rib, and then another, broke her nose.

  The final one sent her flying with such frightful force she crashed through the wall and landed on the floor.

  She tried to crawl away and even get up.

  But the beast caught her by the neck and began to tighten his grip.

  To squeeze.

  And as he held her in the air, someone saw her mark, for she had lost her cocktail hat.

  “The fool, she will kill us all!” someone said.

  But Socia didn’t care, for she could only feel the grip.

  Her eyes they looked up at the glass ceiling and all the stars there.

  The grip squeezed even more, and she felt her life fade away.

  Will you sing for me.

  In the night, through the glass ceiling, she saw a falling star.

  When I’m dead.

  It broke through the ceiling and there was a rain of glass.

  My Lady.

  “MY SOCIA!” her Lady screamed.

  Socia could breathe.

  She gasped for air and threw the hand away.

  For it was not connected to an arm anymore, something had sliced it away.

  She tried to crawl somewhere safe, and she thought she had heard her Lady say her name.

  Arms grabbed her and helped her to see. It was the servant who almost died.

  And then she saw her Lady.

  With wings made of blades unfurled, and upon her head — a crown of flame.

  A brass angel, a masterwork.

  Her Lady was.

  She held the fool by his throat in a tight grip, and from his mouth flames came out as he was burning up.

  “Who dares to touch that which is mine!”

  “To touch my Socia!”

  Her eyes were red and shone with terrible might.

  “I judge this man to burn for such is my right!”

  All around the room everyone was on their knees, with their gazes lowered down.

  “For such is her right!” they all said in unison.

  “His body will burn and when he dies I will his soul…”

  “Erase.”

  “For such is my right!”

  “For such is her right!” they all said in unison.

  Socia could see it now, her Lady’s terrible might.

  Light streamed from the man, for her Lady was going to unmake him.

  Erase him.

  Socia tried to make her stop, but she couldn’t talk, not even move.

  Only gasp for air.

  Don’t.

  Don’t be cruel.

  But then a man, her Lady’s arm, dared to touch.

  His head held low, his knees off the ground, he stood next to her.

  Her Lady’s eyes fell upon him, but she did not yet act.

  “My son’s a fool and it is your right to take his life, his soul to ash turn.”

  The fool now no longer thrashed, only gasped for air, for her Lady had loosened her grip, but still he hung in the air.

  “Spare my son, and take mine instead, for that is your right,” he said.

  Don’t be cruel. You are not cruel.

  “Don’t,” Socia tried to say, but the words came out garbled.

  Her Lady found Socia on the floor with her gaze.

  She dropped the fool to the floor, where he crumpled into a heap.

  She took a step towards Socia and then turned her gaze back toward the beast.

  “On your knees!” she said.

  He struggled, charred and burned as he was, but his father’s hands helped him up.

  “You’ve touched that which is mine with your hands.”

  “One I have already taken, and it will never grow back.”

  “The other, present it!”

  Don’t be cruel.

  His father helped as the fool could barely stay on his knees.

  And with a single stroke, with a blade she plucked from her wings, she took this other hand.

  Skht!

  Thud.

  Another hand on the floor.

  She walked then to Socia and picked her up from the floor, and her wings she folded around her.

  “The servant,” Socia rasped, even though it hurt her ribs.

  Her Lady didn’t listen, only tried to heal Socia.

  Her fingers moved around her broken flesh, but they shook and twitched, and it didn’t work, for it is easier to hurt than heal.

  She looked into her eyes, so red and filled with rage.

  Don’t be cruel.

  She tried to raise her arm, to touch her Lady’s cheek, but her arm only twitched.

  Slowly her Lady began to walk again, away from this awful place.

  And with every step she took Socia could hear them chant.

  “For such is her right!”

  Even the man with no hands…

  Said so.