Author's Note: Beowulf and Portal do not belong to me.
They left the earls' wealth in the earth's keeping
the gold in the dirt. It dwells there yet,
of no more use to men than in ages before.
After weeks of walking, she had found a small village. The people had rushed forth and touched her ponytail, kissed the cube and the ground where her feet touched. They told her that she was a goddess, begged her to impart the wisdom she had taken from that place of legends and nightmares in the ground.
She looked over her shoulder as they clung to her jumpsuit, their chests heaving with terror and reverence. What could she tell them, even if she did have a voice?
She pointed in the direction she had come from and shook her head. She wished more than anything that there was more to tell.
But there was nothing there for them. There never had been, and there never would be.
