"Speech"
Inner thoughts
Emphasis / Emphasis
Autorities
The first thing I feel is the roar of an engine. The second is the wind in my hair. The third, is a car horn and a stream of curse words shouted from right beside me.
I jump awake and look around.
I'm riding shotgun in a car, no, a very fancy convertible Ferrari. Beside me is the Goddess that I met in the forest, driving without a care in the world, her long tresses let free to flow in the wind, simply covered by, what I assume, is a glamour to change their colour to a more natural red.
I don't need to say a word that she notices and greets me.
"Good morning, princess. How you feeling? It was a very close call."
I try to breathe in and out. No pain. I wiggle my fingers and toes. They move. I raise my arms, shrug my shoulders, in general attempt to move all the ways I can while seated in the car.
"I feel fine, apparently. I guess I should thank you…?"
"Don't bother, it was the least I could do. Had you not been there as a distraction I would have probably died. Anyway…"
She turns toward me, leaving her left hand on the wheel and bringing her elbow near her headrest. With a finger she lowers her sunglasses, a pair of stylish Rayban, and pins me with her azure-grey eyes.
"…while I fixing you up, I checked you for magic and the like. It seems to be just a common civilian that has stumbled into the magical world."
"yyyup, and I don't think I liked the welcome"
She chuckles.
"Obviously. Anyway, magic's real, you have just survived brawling with a god, we are on a magical Ferrari, riding down the Strada Adriatica at more than 200km/h. Try to get a grip with that and think about what you want, because once we get to Rimini we'll have to see how your life will change going forward."
She says it like it's nothing, and thankfully all pretences of normality have already gone out of window, or I would probably be in a status of deep denial. Anyway, instinctively, I find myself asking the obvious question.
"And if I asked to go back to my old normal life?"
I see her biting the side of her lower lip, her gaze shifting suspiciously. Even her voice trails a little as she answers:
"Not… really an option anymore"
My only answer is a sceptical raising of an eyebrow. Inside though, I feel strangely calm at the thought, detached.
"I hope you realize that, were I not a Goddess, I would have to keep my eyes on the road and so I would not see your raised eyebrow"
"Sure, that's your problem. Now stop deflecting."
Yes, snarking at the nice Goddess is definitely the best idea, keep it up.
"Ok, look…"
With a sigh, she passes me a mirror from a purse she has… somewhere beneath her legs. I look into it and see an unrecognizable face staring back. Apparently, I have been reverted into a eighteen year old which, fair enough, is better than being dead. Problem is that is not where the changes end.
My new physical traits are also completely different from my old ones. I am now much thinner, like pieces of me had been shaved off from meat and bones all across my figure. And I don't mean "oh, I am slim now", but rather I am somewhat shorter, my chin and facial features are sharper, unhealthily so, my chin pointier, my shoulders less broad, my muscles smaller, my waist and hips thinner and so on and so forth. All in all, I feel much reduced from what I once was.
"…your body was very messed up and forcefully shoving your soul back into it did not help. I had to improvise a healing process and there were… consequences."
I bite back immediately, with a flat tone.
"…consequences"
The Goddess leys her hand on my shoulder. Then, sincerely, almost solemnly she says
"I had to make a lot of work in very little time while running away. I am sorry. I swear that, given time, I'll find a way to fix you."
I say nothing for a little while, before saying.
"Nonetheless, I am again in your debt. Thank you. Both for the save and the promise. I'll stick by you 'till you fix me then."
She pats my shoulder, comfortingly, before concluding.
"It's by my mistake that you are in this mess, so no thanks nor debts are needed. I swear, I'll make it worth your while."
With a little hop she returns to a proper driving position, accelerating a little more. There is some traffic on the road, but not enough to force her to slow down. She just zigzags around the other drivers in a way that is just shy of supernatural.
I take a few minute of silence to process the information. I am feeling strangely calm about all of this. Honestly, the loss of my appearance bothers me more than the loss of my previous life. That feel like… an inconvenience? It's strange. I should probably not feel as calm as this.
It's the Goddess, I rationalize, she must have used a spell to calm me down at some point before.
Honestly, I cannot find it in myself to be mad about that either.
It's probably for the best. A freak out at this point would probably just hurt me. Also, she's being pretty altruistic for a deity, many others would probably have just left me for dead. Or placed me in a constellation if they felt thankful.
A little more time passes, and the silence starts to wear on me. I try to speak again.
"So… can you introduce yourself? And explain what happened there with… more detail?"
She answers, her tone now light and peppy.
"Sure. First of all, name's Reitia*. Goddess of the Italian woods, bounty, spirits, protectress of lost children and most importantly 'She who holds/is the key/door/passage to the land of the dead'."
The way in which words and concepts overlap somewhat strains something in my brain, as multiple meanings are shoved in me at the same time. Reitia notices.
"Sorry, forgot mortals don't like it when I do that. Anyway, I am the last goddess of the Venetii, the other ones having been syncretized with other gods, kicked out of these lands, changed their names or simply lost to time. These days I am merely a very minor deity running around making deals in the shades of the supernatural world, escaping the attention of major players, trying to keep my name afloat through random historical findings, research papers and the occasional literary mention, while enjoying the various comforts of the modern mortal life. Like, you know, driving sport cars."
She gestures to the Ferrari we are currently in, right before overtaking three cars in a very smooth chicane.
Cool.
"And the other one?"
I ask, clearly referring to the genderless figure we were fighting.
"Ah, Mors. They are… a slightly stronger deity. Still a minor one, by all means, just a bit more well-known and with a stronger legend than my own. They are not a bad person, just very… set, in their ways. And desperate. I believe that if our domains did not overlap as they do, being both death related deities, we could have even been friends."
Her tone's almost whimsical as she says that.
"I don't see what's the issue with that. Many pantheon have overlapping deities"
This seems to bother her, and she immediately corrects me.
"Ok, quick lesson. First, not the same pantheon. I am of the Venetii, northeast of Italy, they are Latin-Etruscan, approximately the area from Tuscany to Rome. We both just happen to claim the Italian people as our descendants, and we are both somewhat right."
She shakes her hand in a "so-so" gesture, before moving on.
"Second, when I say minor deity, I mean very minor. As in -we might disappear into another deity should we be cut down- minor. And since we both have claim on the same areas and the same domain, we kinda make each other's existence harder. Now, I can play around it since I have multiple disparate domains, and also because no local major deity has taken my role as protectress of lost children… not that they would care, those hypocritical, Greek-aligned bastards"
The last part is muttered and full of vitriol, there must be a story there.
"But Mors? They are only bound to death and madness. Not exactly much to work with. They are constantly at risk of being assimilated into Thanatos or, more fittingly, Caronte, and they don't want to lose themselves that way. Honestly, I can sympathize. Not all Gods want to be changed."
I find myself blinking at that. While the concept expressed are not exactly difficult, the whole thing is still pretty jarring to hear. Trying to get over the strangeness, I ask
"And so you both ended up in this game of cat and mouse, running around each other without end. Since when?"
She seems to think about it for a bit.
"I think since Rome fell? Give or take a few centuries. For me it was when most of my hidden cults and places of worship were wiped clean by the Catholics, and so I had to rush back into the material world to try and keep myself alive. Now, it's not always this bad…"
she clarifies, before dodging a truck that was attempting a change of line without directional arrow. We hear the car horn behind us, and the only response is the Goddess raising a middle finger,
"…most of the time we each just do our own thing, competing indirectly, since we are forced to lay low to escape the attention of various Campioni. Especially in southern Europe, where the major gods are so temperamental that we end up under the authority of at least a Campione more often than not. Mediterranean civilizations, what can you do."
Then she flicks up a cigarette and, after a customary 'do you mind?', lights it up and takes a drag. At that point, I ask.
"Ok but… what are these Campioni you mentioned? And what happened to the current one? Did they die?"
She puffs out smoke before answering
"Born of the Fool/Epimetheus and the Witch/Pandora…"
Ouch
"…they are usurpers of Divine Rights. A Campione is a supreme ruler, a Campione is… nah, let's keep it simple. A Campione is a mortal that manages to slay a God. To summarize, they usurp the power of said god and become much, much stronger. Their lifespan increases, their luck skyrockets, and they become basically the bogeymen of the magical world. The alpha predators of the supernatural if you will. The only ones that can stand up against them are major deities, and even those end up falling to them more often than not. Not that is matters too much…"
Her tone gets somewhat airy, contemplative.
"…after all, a deity with a strong legend has basically infinitely retries, and once it has recovered can come back and try again 'till their legend fades. A Campione instead has only one life. It might a bright, and even long one, but a single life nonetheless. Gods and Campioni shall battle forever, but the individuals will never be the same. They all will pass the Gate, anyway."
I cannot help but add:
"Sic transit gloria mundi…"
This seems to shake her out of her brief reverie, and she keeps going.
"I'm pretty sure Chronos has that authority. Anyway, the current Italian Campione is not dead, he's just been knocked around by a new Japanese brat and so he's recovering and probably sulking somewhere in Rome. Of course this has left a time window when all the minor spirits, gods, divine ancestors, and the like have come crawling out of the woodwork, taking pot-shots at each other, scrambling for as much power as they can get and so on and so forth. Honestly, we just need to evade Mors for a couple of day and then things should go back to normal. I'll be more than able to fix you then."
That said, she takes another drag, smoking in peace as the road flows away around them. I also fall into quiet contemplation, for a couple of minutes.
It appears my fate is now tied with that of Reitia. My appearance and age make it impossible to go back to my previous life and following her is the only chance of getting it back. Furthermore, if I have to be honest, I'm enjoying the adventure. Learning of this secret world of magic and Gods, it sounds like something I could easily find myself enamoured with.
Provided I don't end up die in the next few days by Mors' hand, that is.
Even so, it would be an awesome way to go, fighting against Death itself, like a hero of legend past. A childish part of me, that never got quite over the fantasy books and anime phase, jiggles at the though.
"Ah! We're almost there! Turbo time!"
The engine purrs as Reitia floors it. We accelerate even further, and with a swerve we pass from the main road into an alleyway. We start zigzagging through the city, still going at ludicrous speed, barely dodging cars and walls and innocent bystanders.I cannot help myself. I freeze, clutching at my seat like a terrified cat at a wall.
It's cool. It's terrifying. It should not work. We are going to crash. But it's so cool-
I cannot bear it; I squeak in an incredibly high pitch.
"What are you doing, you bloody maniac!"
Reitia's maniacal laugh is the only answers I get.
Ten minutes, fifteen seconds and three near crashes later, we finally stop. The car screeches to a halt in an empty street with rows of garages on both sides, the kind of place where serial people store their more cumbersome equipment while not on holiday.
"I get it, you were having fun and I was a little rude, but did you seriously need to unbuckle my seatbelt before those few turns? My heart was about to pop! Also, that's a no parking area."
She barely regards my rambling with a flippant waving of the hand
"Eh, rules are for mortals."
Before walking up to one of the garages and snaps her fingers. The door opens silently, and the space inside unfurls and lights up in green tones. She steps in, and I silently follow.
"Back on topic, the main reasons we came here is to decide what you'll do with your life…"
"Again, I'm sticking to you. I want to go back to my normal life, you're my only way back"
Yeah, that's the only reason. Surely. It's not like I'm loving the adventure.
She barely raises an eyebrow then goes on as if I hadn't even interrupted her
"…and to recover some of my few equipment capable to actually hurt Mors. Admire, Andrea, one of my stashes of magical artefacts!"
"I have every sort of things in here, from grimoires, to artefacts, to mana potions, to my greatest treasure…"
She walks up to a mirror and pushes her hand through it. The reflective surface waves like water, as she draws a long, thin, two-sided bone white blade, with the straight simplistic handle wrapped in leather.
"…the rest of a divine being, called Dragon Bones, worked by ancient, divine hands into a blade of rot and floods. This is Palude Padania, the cursed blade born a forgotten Gods of the swamps and rivers that once flooded these lands. Bane of fire and stone, boundless source of foul life, this weapon can only be used by a deity of nature. Thankfully, as a goddess of bounty, I qualify."
She admires the edge of the sword. Even from my position, many steps away, I can feel the power, smell the foul stench radiating off of it.
"Usually, battles between Gods are won or lost by the management of their authorities, manifestation of divine acts. Currently, both me and Mors have exhausted our stronger authorities: Dulce Mors and Gate to the Beyond. I am unsure how many they have left, but I'm not about to risk it. This weapon… will be our equalizer."
She places the sword at her side, and it disappears, leaving only a faint glimmer where it once was. She then turns toward me and passes me some items.
"It's hard to find other things that can hurt a full-blown god, but I do have something for you. Here's your loadout…"
First, she hands me a kite shield, in colours of gold and orange, with a griffin drawn upon it
"…a holy knight shield, blessed by an angel's tear and then bathed in dragonfire. A gun with complementary blessed silver bullets…"
Then she passes me said gun. I look at it, perplexed and a little dubious, saying
"I don't know how to shoot a gun"
She ignores me, going forward and putting another weapon in my hands
"…and a magic stealing dagger. Just stab the fucker and your instincts will do the rest."
"Again, I don't know how to shoot a gun!"
I insist, but she dismisses my concerns outright.
"You'll learn, now come here. "
"I don't think it works like…"
I try to speak up again, but I get dragged to her by the lapel before I can finish to object. Her eyes pin mine and I freeze, like a rat before a cobra. Then, she kisses me, straight on the lips.
There is nothing romantic in it. It's brutal, it's overwhelming, it's like facing a storm. Her breath steals mime and I feel myself choke. My mind stops. My heart stops. My soul stares in terror. And an ethereal green fog floods crashes through my entire self…
What the…
It ends in an instant, just like it has begun. I gasp for air, and feel myself… lighter? More fluid. The world around me seems to have more definition. But before I can understand what exactly happened to me, I have to ask:
"Not that I mind, but… why?"
She has already turned away, moving through rucksacks and suitcases. She answers, calmly:
"It's a quick way to enchant someone without going through the whole ritualistic ceremony. Now you should be at least a bit more than human for a while. And by that, I mean around half a day. So we better hurry and get some more distance so that I can set you up with some decent enchantments somewhere safe."
She throws me a couple backpacks and I catch them mid-flight. Despite being full of blue and red gems that smell of rain and dust and smoke, they feel light as feathers.
"Where do we go now, then?"
She puts her sunglasses back on, before leading me again out the warehouse.
"Inward and northward. Ideally, Ferrara. There is a forest near there, where one of my cabals has set up a place of power in my name. Armed as we are and with the advantage of that terrain, we should be scary enough to make Mors desist from attacking us"
As we reach the car, I have to ask "Oh. Can I…"
"No", she answers, jumping in the driver' seat, "You are not driving."
The Via Emilia has been one of the main roads of northern Italy since the time of the Romans, and even though nowadays the true Via has been relegated to a secondary road, the same routing is still used by the main Highway system. Cutting through the Padania's plain, it connects many major city centres like Rimini, Bologna, Modena, all the way to Milan.
Not Ferrara though, to reach it we would have to literally turn 90 degrees at Bologna. And paradoxically, that's actually the faster way to get there.
The only alternative would be to take the Adriatica and pass straight through Ravenna, and that's not only where they last faced Mors, but also not a highway, meaning they would be taking more time despite making technically less road. The sum of two sides is shorter than the hypotenuse.
Truly, magic exists, Gods fight for survival, and yet the most eldritch thing is still the road network in Romagna.
Beside me, Reitia is singing in tune with the radio. Her melodious voice ringing in the air with angelic harmonies and silvery notes…
"I'm on a highway to hell- "
…and is currently nailing every single note on the ACDC greatest hits album. Smartass that I am, I feel the need to speak out.
"Geez, Bologna is not that bad"
She slaps me on the back of the head in response, but I can hear her giggle. Mission accomplished.
I am about to try and make another joke when something in the side rear-view mirror catches my eye. Black. I turn and see a front of pitch-black clouds rushing up toward us. Leading them, a single figure, riding a spectral horse. Despite the distance, we hear them:
"For none can escape me. For none can deny me.
I will reach anywhere. I will cross any boundary.
Dread it, run from it. Death will still arrive."
Pale Rider
"The fucker… that's not one of his authorities! Mors/Mania was never characterized as the Pale Rider! They must have cheated this authority out of a grimoire!"
"How in hell does that even work?"
"Too long to explain. Get the gun and start shooting!"
Reitia accelerates, trying to increase the distance. The road is suddenly devoid of people, and I wonder how that happened. Some supernatural way to cover things up perhaps?
As I am wondering, I get onto the backseats and draw my gun. I try to aim but, having never used a gun before, I find myself relying on what I saw on TV. Obviously, my first shot is way off. As is the second.
In retaliation, a small purple flame shoots toward me, only to be dodged at the last second by a swerving of the car. It meets the asphalt, scorching it.
I steady my arm again and pull the trigger. Once, twice, three, four times. Most shot miss, merely impacting the fog behind the rider, while the fourth meets one of the incoming flames by chance, detonating it in a silvery burst. As my gun clicks empty, Reitia shouts at me from the driver seat, increasingly distressed.
"Can you even aim?"
"No! As I have already told you! Multiple times!"
To be honest, I am not exactly calm either.
"You fucking… ok, take the wheel and hand me the gun"
"Finally! Now come to papa…"
I jump into the driving seat and keep the gas pumping. I set the rear-view mirror to my height and start dodging the incoming shots. Thankfully, it seems Reitia's enchantment came with some improved reflexes, as I manage to graze around them without a problem. In the meantime, the Goddess is also having better results with her gun, forcing Mors back into their cloud of shades.
But just as I feel we're finally gaining distance; I hear their dreaded voice again.
"I was the first terror, progenitor of spectres. I was the first walker into the eternal shade.
The first, the king, the general, now calls you to attendance. To arms!"
Court/Cohorts of the dead!
As they chants, figures of white rise around them. Ghostly knights, flying spectres, will o' wisps, and all sorts of other creatures answer to their call. Some of the flying ones quickly reach us and start trying to jam themselves in the wheels of the car.
This seems to work, we start losing speed, and the tail of the car gets increasingly harder to control. Reitia turns to try and shoot the jamming ghosts, but a barrage of incoming spectres and purple flames force her to keep her aim squarely toward the approaching horde.
Beside me, I notice die rucksacks. With the gems.
Desperate for options, I pick up one of them and throw it in front of us. It rolls underneath the car, before releasing a powerful burst of energy that shreds away the ghosts. Luckily I guessed right, and the car's enchantment protected it from damage.
"Good idea" comments the Goddess, before grasping two handfuls of the gems and throwing them behind the car, forming a magical explosion that scatters all incoming spectres and raises a great cloud of ash and smoke.
But from the smoke, galloping their infernal steed, Mors emerges. They somehow reach us and bring themselves beside us, a large, magical blast charging at the tip of their index finger, aimed straight at me.
"Time to end this ride."
My instinctive answer is to wheel and crash my car into them, causing their blast to explode prematurely and send our car forward, spinning on the ground.
We end up stopping facing backward, seeing a charging Mors aimed straight toward us. I glance at Reitia as she draws her gun again. I make my preparations.
"I am going to charge at them"
I say, dead serious. Se simply places a charger in and cocks the gun, nodding. I place my left hand on the wheel. With a roar of the engine we move.
Mors sees us coming, just as we see them. They prepare their horse to jump toward us, Reitia aims for her shot. And just as we are about to collide, I move my right hand, throwing the sack of gem straight between us. Reitia takes her shot. I barely have time to duck under the wheel, as the blast shakes the world.
*for English speakers: read Reitia as Raetia (reɪtiə).