The fourth deadly sin, of course, is Envy.

She is often overlooked, seen as a crash of Desire and Greed, unnoticed until she is all-consuming.

Envy is poison. Poison like apples and potions and the minds of rotting men.

Envy is green. Bright, roiling green like acid and sealing wax on cursed love letters.

Envy is hunger. Not hunger for more, always more, like Greed. Not the rapturous, bodily hunger of Desire or the bloody, red-edged lust of Wrath. Envy is hunger for something always just out of reach. Something sweet, something that comes so easily to others.

Something to be taken.

At her core, Envy is want. Need. The need to take what someone else has, what you want so utterly, the desire so deep it is like a bleeding gash in your chest.

It goes unnoticed, for Envy bleeds everyday, and her blood is green acid that hisses when it hits the ground. It takes on a mind of its own and seeps into the thoughts of broken men.

Envy is depicted often as a woman, for women are most often objects of Envy.

She has hair and eyes dark like the Void from which she spawned, black like desert snakes one moment, and like softest silk the next.

Envy is beautiful and she is terrible. Her skin is creased with every desirous thought of men, her features sharp like the tang of powder in a spiked glass.

There are many names for those who are most drawn to Envy's reaching fingers. Her objects, victims, prey. Her subjects, servants, paupers. Her kings, gods, masters.

But the most common is the simplest.


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