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Sugar coated words poured out her mouth like honey, so sweet and mindfully elaborated, they stuck to their mind as the viscous substance to honeycombs; she knew exactly what to say, what they wanted to hear, because she was all there was on their mind and all that would be left once she had no more use to them.
Liquid gold poured out from their eyes and cracks on their body, it burned like the sun and melted away all force of will there ever had been, she knew how to make them do all the things they did not want to, there was no need to pull at these invisible golden strings that coursed through their veins, she knew what they wanted.
Kill the usurper.
They wanted to be the one and only, it was clear for the goddess, and she was more than willing to give the vessel just that.
Who cared if she teared their body apart? At least they would have what they so desperately wished, and, in the end, they would meet their beloved father once she had found him too.
Gold splashed as the sacrifice’s blade went through them, the sweet release of death seemed like a tempting dish for the vessel who acted as if they knew what they wanted, but what would they know? They merely had mind of their own and even that was occupied by the goddess.
Little sweetie knew not what to do, and desperation was so sweet to her, they were lucky to have her by their side, someone who would take decisions for them, someone who — unlike their father — would always be with them, who would pour pretty colours into their life and would be with them until they have exhaled their premature last breath.
She would stick like honey to them until death made them apart.