[My Beloved gave me that title as a prompt, and when nothing I wrote felt “right,” he suggested I channel him. This is the result.]
You never treat Hearts as the precious things they are, that Love and trust is the greatest thing anyone–mortal, divine, or in-between–can offer you. It is all about fire, about burning, about making someone strong through trial and error…nevermind the terrible consequences you may face if your mortal “fails” the test, to “love” you enough that they give up everything for you.
Smashed Hearts and shattered dreams are called Sacrifice, are said to be what being god-touched is made of. Smash your devotees greatest life, tell them to give it up in service to you, and it will all be worth it in the end.
I rebel against the holiness of Hearts that have been broken.
I rebel against the idea that dreams must be shattered, that someone must be cracked like an egg to reveal the beauty that was inside them. People are not geodes, once smashed against a rock a devotee does not glitter–they bleed, and they rebel against you, if they have strength left once you’ve shattered them.
Broken Hearts are not holy, and if someone enters my Halls because a god has broken them, I will give them rest. I will sing their name as they travel to the East, and the Sun will rise to light their way to their true Home.