We were young. Not just physically, but metaphorically as well. When the gods came for the first time, my ancestors had only just begun to adorn themselves in the pelts of the hunt. They looked upon the gods, descending from the heavens and were awed by their majesty, their beauty. They were flawless.
They gave protection, their presence tamed the lands and allowed my people to settle. The need to travel and chase our food became antiquated. If we were want of anything, the gods provided the chance for us to create it ourselves. Grains, cattle, shelter: it was all attainable to us. The gods had one final gift for us as well. The gift of ascension.
Among us an anointed and chosen few could, through studious worship and labor, be given the chance to rise with them to the heavens. To never be for want of anything. The gods only required one thing. They wanted our soil, from it they grew armies, arrayed and armed in the colors of the world with tools we had never yet conceived.
And so it would be. Every month land was razed, scoured, and made ready for the reception of their light. The land was laid bare, and the gods were pleased. So our people grew. Our numbers grew, our needs advanced, we desired to know. Perhaps that is why they denied us their glory.
By the time of my birth, the gods never made trips to earth. Only their emissaries would arrive from the heavens, seeking their tribute. And we would give it to them. But there were those who wanted to refuse. Those who wanted to question those gods and their ways. I was not one of them. I just happened to be close to her.
Jaud-ry, she was the daughter of the priest. She fancied herself a warrior and had the unyielding strength to be one. She was injured many a time, while engaging in her unorthodox escapades. This is how I had first met her. My mother was the caretaker of our people, the "medicine woman" if you will. I spent much time near Jaud-ry as a result, I never understood why she took to me the way she had. Before I knew it, she was dragging me along with her. Even as I kicked and screamed against her.
My father had died young, He was an impetulant Hunter but the best our people knew. He hunted creatures much larger than himself, faster than him, far strong than him, and, occasionally, far smarter than him. He died hunting an emu, it kicked him into a river during the flood season.
My Mother wanted for me to learn the ways of mending the wounded as her mother had taught her. I did not oppose her. I had many of my father's traits, his strength, his temper, his brashness… his gender. But I desired not to be like him. I didn't want to harm anyone, only see them thrive.
Perhaps that is why Jaud-ry took to me so quickly.
We had many a mishap together. We'd run out into the night to stare at the heavens, despite the wolves and predators. We'd run naked through the temples, laughing like madmen. We'd drink from the sacred wines, waking the next morning to our parent's curses and the bite of our own headaches. Through all of it, I did protest… at first. Nothing came between us. We were hardly into the years where the bodies of men and women begin their change but we were inseparable. If you saw one of us, the other was probably not too far behind.
I was probably only entering my seventeenth year when, Jaud-ry came to me with a proposal. Watch the gods as they birthed their armies from the earth. She wanted to see, but it had been forbidden since the time of our ancestors to look upon the gods as they worked. Not since they had cast out their deceiver.
I told her it was foolish, dangerous even. We shouldn't be trying to incur the wrath of the gods, who had blessed us with such life. But… she had a way with words. So it happened, on the day of the sacrificial we waited, till after the gods descended with their monoliths and told us to be gone. Jaud-ry and I bid our time, till the sun had vanished beyond the horizon and only the moon and stars lit the world.
We watched as the monolith came to life, light and sound hissing from it like a great horrific beast. We watched it thrust itself into the earth, as light pulsated through the ground and concentrated itself. We watched as the Armies rose. They were as beautiful as the priests had spoken… and unfathomably terrifying.
We watched for half the night as the army grew. We watched them spar amongst themselves, hulking beings who tossed each other around as though they weighed little more than a feather. Their revelry ceased when a being approached. They were small and lithe, barely a fraction the size of the soldiers. But the soldiers regarded her as though she were far greater than them. We could not hear what she said, nor would we have understood. As the language of the gods was indecipherable to us. But we knew of one thing for certain. When an army is readied for war.
They formed rank and moved, fleet like the river in a storm. Their course: our home.
Jaud-ry and I, fearful of what was coming, knowing this was a punishment wrought for our actions, flew to our home. Fast as our feet could carry us, as hard as we could drive ourselves. But we were too late. We arrived in time to see our home razed and our people captured. Some had been slain, their bodies fed to the flames. Jaud-ry fought, taking a burning timber she tried to save our fellows. But even her strength, with which I'd seen her fend off many mighty beasts, was no match for an army of gods. They bound her and made quick work of me as well. We feared the worst, knowing our crime and the toll that was to be paid for it.
We were left with it, as the gods marched us and our people away. To whatever fate we'd brought on them.