I know, I know, I'm supposed to be working on a thousand other things right now. But this came to me last night almost fully formed, so I kind of had to write it down. Playing Dark Dawn had spawned a lot of little side projects, so don't be surprised if I start posting a bunch of random one-shots.
P.S. I don't own the game, the characters, the Djinn, etc.
The Goddess of Lalivero
Lalivero has a goddess. She can summon great gusts of wind to drive away the locusts and rain lightning down on her enemies. She can look deep into a man's soul and find his innermost secrets. She is nothing like us humans.
The goddess fell from the moon. She shone like a comet against the stars, clothed with light as she fell to the earth. We followed her into the ruins. She'd crushed the temple into dust, and carved a crater as wide as our city and as deep as a man is tall. And in the middle of the crater she lay, spotless and unharmed.
The goddess is a child. She has fine golden hair and wide eyes the color of emeralds. She likes to play with dolls, to set empty plates for them and pretend they are eating a pie she made. The goddess cannot bake pies. She cannot cook her own food, or sew her own clothes, or walk the streets by herself. She needs a cleric to heal her when she is sick. She needs someone to sing her to sleep.
The goddess is in love with a little boy. He plays with the other children outside her window every day. She wants to join them, but goddesses do not play games with sticks and lines in the dirt. They simply watch. The goddess likes the way the boy's hair flutters when he runs, like feathers on a bird. Sometimes she sends the wind to tousle it for him. She waves after she does this. He brushes the hair out of his face and starts playing again. He does not wave back.
The goddess watches the storm. It has been tearing Lalivero apart for days. The rain is flooding the streets, leaking into homes and washing the crops away. The wind is so strong that it picks up rocks and throws them at people's windows. The windows break, and the wind rushes inside, scattering glass and pottery to the floor. The houses are burning where lightning has struck. People are out in the streets, pounding on doors, begging for shelter from the wind. Some are shouting, some are weeping. Most are huddled into small dark spaces, praying for forgiveness. Surely we have sinned.
The goddess cannot stop her people from suffering. This is not her wind. This is not her lightning. She cannot send them back. She is very sorry.
The goddess is treated very well. When the sky clears, we sweep her streets clear of wood and mud, and we patch the walls of her home. We dress her in our finest silks. We offer her the rest of our crops. We sing her praises every morning. But the goddess will not stop crying.
The goddess must pass judgment. A crowd of angry people tell the goddess that the man before her has been stealing food from their homes while they have been rebuilding the city. The man says they are lying, that they are jealous because the goddess spared his farm. Goddess, who is telling the truth? The goddess walks to the man, so that she may look into his soul. He grows pale and begs her to stop. She gazes into his eyes. The man begins to shake. He calls her a witch, a monster, a demon-child. He will not stop crying. The goddess stands up. She is ready to announce her verdict. The man is a thief. We drag the criminal away as he screams.
The goddess does not come outside. She solves our quarrels and drives the pests from our land, but she does not visit the market or watch our children play. She does not call Faran "father" anymore. She calls all adults by their first names and looks us in the eye when we speak. She will not stop watching the moon.
The goddess grants an audience with the boy whose hair looks like feathers. He wants to know, does the goddess hate him? She tore down his house with the storm. She banished the boy's father for trying to feed his family. The boy and his mother have nowhere to stay, nothing to eat. Has the boy done something to offend the goddess? If he apologizes, will she stop punishing him?
No, the goddess does not hate the boy. She does what she must and no more. She is not angry. She is simply very tired and very small.
As always, reviews are much appreciated.