"Who are you? Show yourself. What have you to say about my complaint?" said Orual to the figure before her, who was completely hidden by billowing, dark blue clouds.
"You do not see yourself and what you have done in light of morality," said the clouded figure.
And suddenly the cloud lifted, and when the fog cleared away Orual saw a mirror before her, faintly illuminated. And within it she saw herself, but not in a way she had ever seen herself before: uglier than she had ever been, but not ugly so much in her physical appearance as ugly in the way that her face was twisted into a sickening grin. Her clothing and hands were covered in blood, and a battered and wounded Istra was crumpled at her feet.
"I illuminate truth within a person," said the mirror, "but I remain clouded because you do not want to see the truth, and you turn away from me when I try to show it to you." Orual said nothing. "Orual, see what your jealousy really is. This reality is if you get what you want - Psyche all to yourself. While this is not what may happen in the physical realm, this is what will happen in the spiritual realm. This is not what has been intended, though, and this is not how you want Psyche to be yours, yes?"
She gazed at the mirror, stunned, then nodded.
The mirror became once more swallowed up in blue clouds. "I am sorry that your kind so often does not want to see," said the god, "for one clear sight can heal multitudes."
"Is it too late for me?" asked Orual. "Is there any way I can be a part of the healing?"
The god looked upon her kindly. "Yes," he said, "you have a repentant heart, and this is how true love begins. I have the power to turn your wrongdoings into right with that heart of yours, and the power to make your guilty judgment not guilty."
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