Michael Hemmer: Till We Have Faces Assignment

     Orual, both terrified of the judgement to come, and ecstatic after her reconciliation with Psyche, sits before her godly judge. The judge appears and she trembles as he speaks.

    "I am Nefrea the ruler of judgement who will speak to you the Doom you will face, whether it be for good or for bad. I am not the strongest nor the most charismatic of the gods. None would look upon my face to desire it and I possess no great skill in combat nor in the making of beautiful things. Yet I have been given surpassing wisdom in the condemnation or exhortation of mortals. I am Nefrea and I will speak your Doom." 

"Orual, throughout your life you have been selfish beyond that of a standard mortal. You have scorned your blessings through jealousy and distrust. The greatest blessing that was seen fit to send you, your sister Psyche, you have held close in a jealous fist, threatening to suffocate her beauty as you demanded the sole right and ownership over her life. You held on to that which is not yours with such reckless abandon that you despised your own life, given to you by the gods, as nothing. This is a grave offense. Beyond this, even in the success of your kingdom, given to you not through your own wisdom or strength, but through that which was lended to you by mentors and gods, you have not been content. You, Orual, have greatly desired the hand and favor of a married man and jealously stole away much of his time from his wife, whom he had sworn to love. Knowing the reason of mortals to be weak, the gods saw fit to provide you with a true account of your error, that you might have understanding, and yet even when confronted with divine and mythic truth, you chose blindness. You have continually scorned the gods who provide the very breath you breathe. What have you to say?" 

    Slowly, Orual raised her head and looked at Nefrea. He did not look angry, nor was there pity to be found in his eyes. In fact, there was almost no emotion at all. Yet she felt tremendously vulnerable beneath his knowing gaze, as if every thought, emotion, or act she had done her entire life was written in a book that Nefrea had just read. Orual then spoke, in slow halting speech: "Your account, O Judge, is fair and accurate. I will accept whatever Doom you deem fit."

    Nefrea continued to look at Orual, his intense gaze fixed. After what seemed like an age, he spoke. "Even now as I sit in judgement, the scent of burnt offerings, sacrificed to me by your recently deified sister, linger in my temple. I have determined your Doom. You will repay your debt to your sister eternally as her handmaiden. However, because you sought to possess her as your own, coveting her beauty, you will be struck with blindness and never behold her face again."