Vorathys tried one final assault. She channeled everything she had into amplifying Suyajna's emotions—trying to overwhelm her with guilt, with the horror of what she'd done to her own son, and with feelings that would break even divine will.
Suyajna felt the attack hit. Felt emotions surge that should have crushed her. Guilt for using Jaenor. Horror at her own actions. Love for the son she'd sacrificed. Remorse that should have been soul-destroying.
And she laughed harder.
"You think I don't feel guilt?" she asked, her voice carrying dark amusement.
"You think I don't understand the enormity of what I've done?
I do.
Completely.
I feel every bit of it. And I don't care. Because this—" she gestured to herself, to her ascended form, to the power radiating from her, "—this is worth it. Worth any price. Worth any sacrifice. Even my own son."
