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“...And then we had the whole party and stuff! But you were there for that part.” As Vi finished, she took a wooden cup and enjoyed the taste of (a remembered) victory.
“Sort of,” Leif added.
“You can't really say she was there ,” Kabbu replied, his eyes crinkling in a way that showed he was smiling. “Which is too bad, you would have enjoyed the feasting, I am sure.”
Aria, bless her devotion, said, “I had to keep our blessed goddess hidden from the eyes of the common bug. They would not understand your radiance, oh great Venus.”
Hmmph. Aria'd caught Venus's complaining before she'd even had the chance to finish savoring her current bite of godly deliciousness. Venus wasn't sure if she was happy Aria was so in tune with her thoughts, or annoyed by how horribly devoted she was.
Hmm, no, definitely happy. After all, she was probably right, in her own overprotective way. A little nagging was worth a dear friend, and another picnic together in Venus's garden.
“Truly unfortunate,” Venus said, playfully bitter, but smiled at Aria regardless. “My roots couldn't see the meal, but I felt the warmth of the ovens in the soil. I bet you ate like we're eating now!”
Leif replied in his cool, calm way, “Don't worry, we ate enough for three goddesses.”
Venus laughed. “Oh, Leif. Don't ever change. Too much, anyway.”
Vi's antenna wrinkled as she shouted, “Okay, okay, do you want me to do a play-by-play of the party, too, your pollen-ness?”
“How generous of you, Vi! You really have learned a lot from your journey,” Venus said in a way an old, wise hermit of a goddess would say things. But sassier.
“Bleh,” Vi grumbled, jamming her fork in some toasted berry. “Bleh, I say.”
“Heehee, I seem to be rubbing off on her,” Kabbu said.
Leif turned to Kabbu and said, “Stroking your own ego? Vi's rubbing off on you, too.”
“Hrk! What?” Kabbu said.
“Hey, you don't have to look horrified about it!” Vi shouted.
One of Venus's roots lifted a mug of something delightfully fruity up for her to sip. “It's definitely a grand thing you met Vi. You were in need of some respect for yourself, Kabbu.”
“I... ha ha...” If Kabbu blushed no one would know behind his armored mask. Except everyone totally knew and didn't need Venus's power to sense life and quickened heartbeats to figure it out. “Th-Thank you, great Venus. And... thank you, Vi. She is right; I've really learned to like myself thanks to you. Both of you.”
“Ahhh, heck,” Vi huffed, kicking at the picnic leaves below them. “I'm always totally caught off guard when you get all sappy like that. It's really hard to make fun of you when you're sincere and stuff.”
“Sounds like a 'you' problem,” Leif said, setting his plate down. “Kabbu's a total ball of sap.”
“So blunt...” Aria said.
“It is like a hammer to my heart!” Kabbu cried out. “But the hammer is made of compliments!”
Leif had the faintest of smiles grace his lips. “Oh, and we're really glad we met you both. But, you know. We've said that enough times.”
Hmm. Could Venus actually sense warmth from him? Ah, no. Just a trick of the breeze.
“You could say it a few (hundred) more times,” Vi sing-songed.
“Vi...” Kabbu half-warned.
“The whole of Bugaria wouldn't be able to handle the size of your head,” Leif shot back in his calm Leif-way.
“Hey, we earned it!” Vi said back in a cool way that wasn't cool at all. “We saved the kingdoms of the land and stuff! We took care of the wasp king! We found the everlasting sapling! Err, well, it kind of got blown up, but you know, we did find it. And now it's not going to be used for evil stuff anymore. We're the best explorers ever!”
Venus swirled her drink and hummed. “Hmm, it doesn't really matter who did the deed. After all, your queen ordered it to be destroyed. The ending is the same either way.”
“Not entirely,” Leif said. “Elizant ordered it to be destroyed. It means she made the right choice. She had the potential to end everything, and we are thankful for that.” Leif blinked slowly, looking peaceful. “We are glad to see it gone.”
Aria, for she was a good and devoted lovely mantis that respected her goddess far too much, sent a private look toward Venus. Aria'd heard the disappointment Venus carefully allowed into her voice. Which meant, unfortunately-but-for-the-best-ly, this picnic was almost over as Venus gave the gentlest of nods.
“It's a little unfortunate... but probably for the best,” Kabbu said.
Venus resisted the urge to scoff. She knew they couldn't help it, but Kabbu, too? What a shame.
“Ehh. I bet it would have been kind of cool if we had it,” Vi said.
Leif said, “And do what with it?”
Vi crossed her arms. “I don't know. Something? I mean, we don't even know what the sapling really was. And you saw the kind of crazy power that nut job had when he ate the leaf. It'd be sorta neat having pollen powers. Then I could be all like, zap , there's a flower!”
“...Zap?” Aria said. “The might of nature doesn't go 'zap'.”
Venus laughed some more. Figured the greediest amongst this band was the one she agreed with the most. “I hope that isn't a poor attempt at flattery, Vi,” Venus chided.
“Naw, it's a really good attempt at flattery!” Vi cheered.
“It was at least decent,” Leif said.
“Oi! Who asked you!” Vi shouted.
Kabbu sighed. “And there goes the peace and tranquility of friendship.”
“Tranquility is overrated,” Leif said.
Kabbu, poor Kabbu, looked as if the think-y parts in his head vanished. “I... have no idea what to say to that.”
“Silence is also an option. Enjoy the tranquility.”
Kabbu threw his arms up. “ Argh . You're doing that on purpose!”
“Talking tends not to be an accident.” Leif finished off his drink and said, “Whatever power the sapling might have had, it was too dangerous. Just look at what it led the roaches to do. We'd all be better off with it never existing. Since it did exist, the next best thing to do was get rid of it. We have no regrets.”
“Agreed,” Kabbu said.
“I guess...” Vi said.
Okay. This picnic was definitely over. Venus didn't want to pretend she approved such a ludicrous idea.
“The hour grows late,” Aria said. “And our food grows stale. We should gather our supplies and head back to the Golden Settlement.”
Kabbu, honorable and chivalrous and respectful, was the first to stand up and start cleaning. “Too bad our good times must end. But hopefully we'll all be able to gather for another picnic in the future.”
Vi was up next, uncaringly throwing their dishes in the basket (but not littering, so no smiting was needed today). “If Fry's cooking, then you bet your last berry I'll be here!”
Leif hummed.
Venus thought Leif looked thoughtful. Maybe. It was impossible for Venus to tell. She'd gotten good at reading bugs over the many moons, and Leif wasn't that hard to figure out. But when he wasn't stressed out about what he was, it was a challenge. And Venus couldn't use the usual cheating she did to figure it out. After all, Leif didn't have a real heartbeat.
“If Venus will accept our offerings, of course we will,” Aria declared so annoyingly humble.
Venus scoffed, carefully placing her cup in the basket with the other's eating utensils. “You'd have to seriously displease my grandness to make me say no to all your company.”
Vi snickered. “And Venus is way too nice to dislike someone as cute as me.”
Kabbu chuckled and said, “Mostly because of the 'too nice’ part. Don't worry, Vi, you are cute, too!”
“Annnnnnnd it helps!”
Leif had remained unusually still and quiet. Venus decided he was definitely thinking about something. She was terribly curious, but she had too much respect for him to pry.
Leif stood up and turned, slowly, deliberately, towards Venus. “May we ask you a question, Venus?”
Ha, that respect didn't carry both ways, Venus thought. Aria was appalled at the bluntness of it, though hid it well under her dedication.
“Oh?” Venus replied. “Hmm, I suppose you've earned some of my goddessly knowledge.” If she were a mere mortal, Venus would have broken out in a laughing fit at Aria's relief. “Ask away, my lovely little bug.”
Leif looked around at the others. “It's a... sensitive question. Kabbu, Vi, forgive us, but we would like to ask privately. If Venus allows it.”
“What, really?” Vi said, only mildly hurt. “After all we've been through together?”
Kabbu stood up too. “Vi, it is alright. I think Leif has earned more than a little privacy. If, err, Venus allows it of course.”
Aria nearly squinted at their insolence. Really, she needed to relax. Maybe Venus would send her on a pilgrimage to a nice vacation spot.
“It's nothing major,” Leif said.
“Yeah, that makes it better,” Vi said, but the edge in her voice was forced for the sake of appearance. Unlike Aria or Venus, she was bad at making it sound real.
“Well, now I'm curious,” Venus said. “I'll allow it if only because I really want to know what's on your mind, Leif.”
“We are humbled by your generosity,” Leif said.
Oh herself, did Venus love his wit.
“...If it pleases you, oh goddess,” Aria said.
“Don't be jealous, Aria, you'll always be my favorite~” Venus cooed.
Aria’s blushes were too good for this world, ha ha~
“Fiiiiiiiiine,” Vi sighed as she picked up their picnic basket. “If it's anything big, you'll talk to us about it, right?”
“We will tell you about it either way,” Leif replied. “This is just something we need to ask alone.”
“Ahhh, good, then,” Kabbu said, relieved and doing nothing to hide it. “Exploration teams, and especially friends, should be able to talk.”
“Something you know all too well,” Leif said.
“ Oof. ” Kabbu grabbed at his chest. “That time the hammer was made out of well-deserved criticism.”
Vi snicker-snorted. “Okay, see you in a bit, Leif. Don't make the goddess mad at us, that healing is still useful, you know!”
“An attempt will be made,” Leif said.
Aria let her faithful decorum fall for an instant. Sometimes, Venus knew, Aria regretted Team Snakemouth were the ones who gathered the offerings. But it was a very rare sometimes. “Very well. I shall tend to your sacred gardens, oh great Venus. Thank you for sharing your offerings with us once more.” She performed the proper sacred bow that all the priestesses before her had decided Venus liked and led Vi and Kabbu out of the grove.
Leif watched them go, stoic as ever (except the several times he wasn't), and Venus thought it even more curious. If her understanding was right, this was the first real time Leif had been away from Vi and Kabbu since first waking up.
“So...” Venus urged.
Leif blinked. “Hmm. It would be best to get right to it, then.”
“Probably,” Venus said. “But then I'm only a goddess, what do I know?”
Once more, Leif gave a faint, faint smile. It vanished fairly quickly, though. “Very well. Venus... We could see in your eyes and hear in your voice that there was a part of the story you did not approve of.”
“...” Venus was actually caught off guard. Hmm. The novelty of the surprise went both ways. It was annoying he could read her like that... but it was pleasant to find, in some small way, someone else that was so attentive. “Hmmm. You're smarter than you look, Leif. And you looked pretty smart to start with.”
“It wasn't that hard. We've gotten quite good at detecting contempt.” Leif walked closer to Venus. “You disagree with the sapling being destroyed.”
Venus guessed there was no reason to keep up the tender charade she had put up. Her tone, while still playful and friendly, became ever-so-slightly twisted. “Hmmm, you're completely right, Leif. I don't like that the sapling was destroyed. But that's irrelevant, isn't it? The sapling was destroyed. No longer will it plague the land with the taunt of eternal life. Life may continue to wherever it inevitably leads, free from its horrible tyranny over so many bug's lives.”
“Yikes. We detect some resentment.”
“Hmmph. Even Kabbu would have heard that .” Venus crossed her leafy arms.
“Heh. We can't deny that.” Leif took a deep breath and let it out as though he needed to calm himself more. Venus wondered if that was an attempt to seem more normal to other bugs.
“It doesn't matter anymore,” Venus huffed. “The sapling is gone, and any discussion about shoulds and shouldn'ts won't do us any good.”
Leif tapped his chin. “...Perhaps it is irrelevant. Maybe it doesn't matter anymore. But we are... curious. Call it hubris, because that's perhaps exactly what it is, but we think the sapling being destroyed is the best thing that could have happened. You don't. I want to know why. Please.”
“Good thing you said please, or I might have had to gobble you up for your insolence.” Venus laughed, though was mildly disappointed by how unresponsive Leif was to the not-at-all-real threat. “Hmmph. I'll be glad to tell you, to be honest, but I'm curious too. I get the what of your story, but not the why. So tell me, Leif, why did you agree with Elizant's decision to destroy it?”
Leif chuckled. “That's fair. An offering of our thoughts to a goddess. Appropriate.” Leif looked up at the dusk-turning sky. “We mentioned something of it in our retelling, but it was only a small scratch at it. Though we have little to add to it. The sapling... it never did anyone any good. The wasp king nearly destroyed the wasps in his mad pursuit of it. Elizant and her daughter wasted so many moons hunting it. And where do we even begin with the roaches? Sealing some of their own in that nightmare land of the dead, others chasing power... do we even need to point out how many bugs fell in Snakemouth alone? What happened to us? ” Leif's body shook. Was he trying not to cry? “It's potential for bringing despair was too great.”
“...What happened to you is, in a way, terrible,” Venus said, voice softening. “That can't be denied.”
Leif furrowed his brow. “In a way? What is that supposed to mean?”
“Merely that; in a way,” Venus said, turning her roots so she was looking away from Leif. “And, in a way, the way you think disgusts me.”
Leif huffed. “Of any being, of any creature, you most of all must know how... how wrong what happened to us was. You think this is okay in any fashion? You, Venus?”
Venus closed her eyes. She was already not looking at him, but she made sure he wouldn't see her contempt. It was truly sad how much her faith in a mortal had been misplaced. “You told me how you think. Fair is fair. Your desire to destroy the sapling was stupid, because now... any good the sapling might have done can never happen.”
“You must be joking.” Leif squinted at Venus, which she saw when she turned back to him.
“I make it incredibly obvious when I'm joking, Leif.” Venus shook her head, petals bouncing. “The sapling could have done this world so much good. And the chance of that is just... gone. Perhaps you didn't do it, but you meant to, both you and your queen.”
Leif shook his head. “And what good could the sapling have done us? In the best case, we would have had Elizant I return to us. What would its power have done to her? Would she still be Elizant anymore?”
“I don't know,” Venus said back, her tone becoming strangely reverent. “I am many things. 'All knowing' isn't one of them.”
“Then how can you say it could have done any good?” Leif asked.
Venus scowled. “As easily as you can say it might not have. Because it's a fact as plain as water being wet and sunlight being delicious. It could have done some good. It could have doomed you. Potentially, either way, it could have done a whole lot of things. Because, ultimately, it was a sapling.”
Now Leif scoffed. How emotional, for him. “A sapling that ruined many bugs' lives.”
“So you say.” Venus's spite wasn't great or anything, but it was there. “But answer me this, then, Leif. What did the sapling do? ”
“The sapling made-” he began.
“Ah, ah, ah!” Venus wagged the tip of a leaf like a mother wagging a finger at their stubborn child. “I mean it literally. What did the sapling itself do? How did it harm any bug? How did it make anyone do anything?”
“...” Leif blinked. “The sapling...” Then again. “The sapling...?” Then, again, he blinked. “The sapling...”
“Was a sapling,” Venus finished for him. If she looked any more disapproving Leif might have vanished from existence. But she wouldn't dare look a fraction more. “A powerful, magical, grand sapling. But, in the end, it was a sapling. Unlike yours truly, it merely was. A plant that grew. It wasn't even fully grown.”
“That's so oversimplified it's gross,” Leif replied. “The sapling's power... it was too much for any bug to handle.”
Venus chuckled. “And what makes you think that? Ah, but that's just it. Nothing is making you.”
“...? What do you mean by that?”
Venus narrowed her eyes at Leif. “Think about it, Leif. Truly, deeply think about it. Those that craved the Everlasting Sapling's power? The roaches, the ants, the wasps; who made any of them do any of it?”
“...Well, the wasp king-”
“Yes, yes, I realized after I said it.” Venus huffed. That sure undermined her point. “The wasp king , then. Who or what made any of them do what they did for the sapling? You know the answer, Leif. None of them were ever forced to look for the sapling (except the wasps). Every explorer made the choice to hunt the sapling.”
“And it was a poor choice,” Leif said. “A choice that led to disaster after disaster.”
“Was it always?” Venus replied. “How many friendships have been forged because of the quest for the sapling? How many treasures were found? I've seen a lot of bugs, while searching for the sapling, find other things they wanted much more. From fortune to families, so much was gained.”
“And so much was lost.” Looking down at the ground, Leif paced back and forth. “The temptation to abuse its power drove so many bugs to do awful things. The roaches were the beginning and the end of that. If the roaches never had that sapling...”
“We'll never know what would happen,” Venus said. “We can't change the past.”
Leif came to a stop, eyes... not exactly widening. Maybe focusing. “Heh... Kabbu would chastise us so much right now for forgetting that.”
“You have a wise friend in Kabbu,” Venus said, smiling. It was a sad sort of smile. “...The roaches had the sapling. We can't change that anymore than we can change the sun rising and falling. Asking what it would be like if they never had it isn't worth our time. And we can't change that the sapling existed. But you had the choice to choose how to use it.” She ran her leaf through her petals.
“...Hmm.”
“I told you, once, that the sapling brought the roaches many blessings, but also many curses. And I pleaded that you not make the same mistake.” She chuckled ruefully. “But you chose to make it so you couldn't even make those mistakes.”
“...Isn't that better?” Leif countered, turning back to Venus. “Isn't it better that we can't do the terrible, awful things that the sapling enabled the roaches to do? Are those blessings worth potentially having more terrible things happen?” He shook his head.
Venus frowned the deepest frown she'd had in... she didn't even know how many moons. What idiots mortals could be. “I don't know, Leif. But you seem to. You know you can't be better. Because that's what you've said by saying the sapling should be destroyed. You don't have the power to be better than the roaches.”
“...”
“...Hmmph. If that's how you think, Leif, then why not go and destroy every egg in Bugaria?”
Leif's eyes actually did widen. “Wait, what!? That's... kind of a big leap?”
“Is it, though? Is it really?” Venus laughed, but it wasn't a very pleasant laugh for either of them. “Because, as you said, the sapling gave bugs the chance to do terrible things. Well, you should smash every last egg in the kingdoms and stop more from being made. Because, hey, any one of those eggs could potentially hatch into a terrible, awful villain and hurt other bugs. Life gives folk that power.”
Blinking his wide eyes, Leif said, “That's... not what we meant.”
“I'm sure it wasn't. But you can't deny your logic fits.” Venus covered her mouth, gently, with a leafy arm. “Sapling or no sapling, plenty of bugs grow up to be crooks, and some even worse. How many did you meet on your travels, Leif? A dozen? A hundred? How many bandits, how many murderers? How many Scarlets?”
“That's not... that's...” Leif crumpled in on himself.
Venus continued, narrowing what she used for eyes, “So many bugs never even dream of having the sapling and do terrible, awful things. And even the roaches! That laboratory you hate? They weren't even using the sapling's power there, were they? They were trying to escape the sapling's influence, Leif, or had you forgotten? They chose to do those unspeakable things all on their own. So you'd be better off never giving them the chance to make that choice.” Again, she laughed. “And while you're at it, you might as well destroy me!”
“...W-what?”
Venus's false mirth vanished to be replaced with a completely false wicked tone. “I have the power to starve every bug in this valley. On a whim, their crops could die and the bugs along with them. I could trap them so no one can save them, and then set a gaggle of chompers to eat them up.” The more Venus talked, the more her 'cruel' tone faded. “I could do all that. Potentially, I could end them all. So will you destroy me, Leif? If anyone has the power to, it's you.”
Leif looked up at her, and Venus stared back. For several long, quiet minutes, they stared at each other with only the wind carrying falling leaves keeping the grove from being totally silent.
“...We could do that, couldn't we?” Leif said, the faintest of an ice spell forming at the tips of his fingers. It left quickly afterwards because he wasn't going to destroy her. “We have the potential.”
Venus smiled in a small sort of way. “There's a lot of things we can do, Leif. A lot you can do. Some of it's terrible. But some of it is wonderful. And...” Venus swallowed in that way she thought bugs did when they didn't mean to. “And the only thing that prevents that is it coming to a harsh end. As you wished for the sapling.”
“Hmm...” Leif hummed, looking down at his hands. “You can't deny that terrible things happened. To us especially.”
Venus looked down at the little moth with a piteous sort of look she hoped wasn't insulting. “...I said that, in a way, what happened to you was terrible. I meant it. In a way it's awful. But in another way, isn't it fantastic?”
“You're gonna have to explain that one to us,” Leif mumbled.
Venus smiled, chuckled, and then wiped at her eye without thinking. “A lot of terrible things happened because of the sapling. And from those terrible things came good things, as has been happening for as long as you bugs have been writing things down, and then probably a lot longer before that. What the roaches did was horrible... but you're not. You're amazing, Leif.”
“...”
“Even if you're not truly Leif . I know. You're cordyceps that took on Leif's mantle. The roaches were the ones that did this to you... they brought you to life. And to think, they called you, you , a failure, when you were easily the best thing they'd ever managed to make.”
“Heh... you're making it sound as ridiculously simple as Vi and Kabbu did.” Leif rubbed at his eyes and sniffed. “For a goddess, you're not much more complex than those simpletons.”
Venus bunched her lips. To look disapproving, of course, but also to keep herself from laughing and crying. “ Ahem. Well... it's really not much more difficult than that. You're here , Leif, Leif-cordyceps, or whatever it is you want to call yourself.”
“But...” Leif's wings shifted as he rolled his shoulders. “Were we worth all the suffering that took place there, Venus?”
Venus... tried not to think too hard about all that death. All that could have been. All that lost potential. She didn't do a good job of it. “Maybe... maybe not. Is that worth asking, though? It happened. That can't be changed. You're here either way. You're loved and welcomed and appreciated. We're all glad you're here. I'm glad you're here and you should appreciate that. Because someday... someday...
“Someday you might not be here anymore.”
Leif's eyes opened wide. It was the most lively Venus had ever seen him. She thought, anyway. It was a little hard to tell through the tears in her eyes.
“Venus...!” Leif said.
Venus smiled wider than she ever had, the counting of moons be darned. Was this what it was like to be vulnerable? It wasn't so bad. It helped Leif seemed to just 'get it', so plainly in his eyes. “Perhaps that's what disappoints me the most. Ha ha. Here I am talking philosophy nonsense when really, I just... don't want to be alone. Silly, isn't it? A goddess worshiped and loved by so many... doesn't want to be lonely. But, hey, I promised you my honest response. Sorry it took me so long to get there.”
“Oh... Venus...” Leif stepped closer to her. “We... I... hadn't realized.”
Venus sniffled. “No one understands, Leif. Children lose their mothers, fathers lose their sons. But...” She wrapped her leaves around herself to try and warm the chill that had filled her. “But I lose everyone, Leif. Everyone. With the sapling gone... I'll get to watch more friends die. The potential to treasure even a few more moments with a precious friend... it's gone.”
Leif stood still for several seconds before, blasphemer that he was, reached out and placed his hand on Venus's arm. “I understand.”
Venus laughed. She'd never been comforted before. She liked that, too. “Ah, my apologies. It's unbecoming for a goddess to be crying in front of their subject.”
Removing his hand and stepping back, Leif said, “Perhaps... but then, I wonder if you're truly a goddess. You don't really act like one.”
“Oh, I don't?” Giggling, shakily, Venus said, “And just how many goddesses have you met?”
“Touché.”
Venus sighed, and looked up at the sparkling stars. “...It doesn't matter. In the end, the sapling is gone. Either way, whether you or the queen wanted it gone, it's gone. No point whining about it now. Sniff. ”
“...Hmm.” Leif looked up at the sky, too. “It... is fortunate we are still alive. There are many moments we forget that. We've been blessed in a lot of ways... this is truly the best possible outcome for us, all things considered, isn't it?”
“And it's all thanks to the roaches,” Venus said. “Life is a little ridiculous like that.”
“Preach, sister.”
“A thousand curses on you, you funny little moth.” Venus's shoulders shook with giggles.
“Heh. But... maybe this wasn't totally worthless to talk about.” Leif turned his gaze to the path leading out of the grove. “It's given us a lot to think about. If nothing else, we think we'll be able to cherish our second chance with all of our undead heart.”
“You'd better,” Venus teasingly threatened. “I'll eat you personally if you waste such a magnificent gift.”
“We will hold you to it.” Leif turned back to Venus one more time. “We still think the choice to destroy the Everlasting Sapling was a wise one... But, on reflection, maybe it wasn't the wisest. Maybe a future generation would have known how to use it. Who knows?”
Venus hummed. “Certainly not I.”
“Heh.”
“...The true wisest choice is often the hardest,” Venus replied. “But I believe in you bugs. I know you can do better. Always.”
“Hmph. Now if only we believed that...”
Venus wondered what version of 'we' he meant, but decided she was too exhausted to drag this out any further. She'd been vulnerable enough for a few decades. “It's getting dark, Leif. Your friends will wonder if I decided to turn you into a tulip or something.”
“You know, they’re exactly like that.”
“Yes, that I do know,” Venus said as she smirked.
“Har har.”
“And, aha, I hope it goes without saying, but... don’t tell anyone you saw me...” Venus sighed. “Getting emotional.”
“It would have, except you’ve gone and said something.” Leif chuckled as Venus tried not to. “Goodbye, Venus. And... we are sorry. For the lost potential.”
“...In the end, it's not your fault. Goodbye, until next time.”
Leif left the grove, leaving Venus to her thoughts and regrets over all the missed chances in the world.
A few days had passed since Team Snakemouth's visit, and Venus was fine with that. Some silence did her some good. It reminded her of what she'd had, and would have to deal with for ages to come. She'd even resisted the urge to spread her roots and catch some gossip. Hearing bugs being happy while she rested in her garden... it just wasn't worth it right now.
Being so lonely, she was surprised (pleasantly? Probably pleasantly) at Aria walking into her grove. She only had a few moments to slip into being the confident, powerful goddess Aria expected her to be, but being that goddess it was easy to get into character.
“Ahhh, Aria~” Venus sang. “And to what do I owe your pleasant company?”
Aria approached... casually? It was kind of casual. An attempt. It was still reverent and humble and all that good stuff, but less so. And goodness did it look like she was struggling. Mmm, that was sad to think about for Venus. That vacation pilgrimage couldn't happen too soon.
“...Venus,” Aria said. “How are you doing today?”
“...Did... you just ask how I'm doing? Like a normal bug, Aria?”
There was a hilarious moment of panic on Aria's features before she realized Venus was amused. “Ah. Umm. Yes. So... how are you doing?”
“I...” Venus paused. Huh. When was the last time someone asked a question so simple of her? “Mmm. I've been better Aria.” Now Venus panicked for an instant as she realized she'd been honest. Showing off weakness? To two whole bugs? This was going to ruin her image.
But Aria was relieved. Venus could feel the gentle slowing of her heart as she calmed down. Relieved to hear her goddess was not alright? “Ah. I see, oh- err, Venus. If... you are not feeling your best, you can of course say no, but... I thought I might offer to, ahh... 'hang out'?”
“...Hang out?” Venus asked. “You're serious.”
“Very much so.” Reaching into her satchel, Aria pulled out two rainbow-filled mugs. “I brought miracle shakes.”
“You are actually serious.” Venus was grinning from petal to petal.
“And... if you were interested, I, uhh, brought a game we could play together.” Aria coughed. “If you want to, Venus.”
“Oh~?” Venus asked, leaning down to meet Aria. When was the last time she's played... anything? She couldn't recall. “Aria, I think I'd completely adore that. What game are we playing?”
Aria blinked a few times as Venus, baffled her goddess would lower herself to her level. But she composed herself quickly. For her goddess. “Ahh, uhh. It is a strategic combat card game called Spy Cards. The moth, Leif, taught me how to play. I would be honored to teach you the rules.”
“...Leif?” Venus asked.
Aria nodded and, after setting the shakes down, held up decks of cards while struggling not to kneel and present them as holy offerings. “He allowed us to borrow his cards. I can say from personal experience the game is very entertaining. Mmmmmmaybe better than glorious combat?”
Venus smiled the biggest smile she'd had since talking to Leif. Turned out, in the most indirect way possible, the Everlasting Sapling had done her some good. She would have a few more treasured moments with a precious friend.