Goddess
an excerpt

She wasn’t afraid then, I could tell.
She was many things at that moment, but not afraid. Never afraid. I remember looking back at her soft form, pearly hair whispering softly around her. Her skin glowing white in the heat and light. Her deep, shadow-filled eyes pouring into my soul, my heart. She was radiant, beautiful.
I wanted to say that to her, as absurd as that sounds. The words were suddenly at my lips and I wanted was to let them free. To see them traverse through the hazed air and to her still hands, hanging numbly at her sides. But I couldn’t, there was hardly enough oxygen in the air to breathe, let alone speak.
As much as I could tell she wasn’t afraid, I could not read what she really felt. I had memorized every expression on her face. Those long nights, burning the candles to their core, watching her speak to me. Her words were…glorious. I once told her that they sounded like the morning tide, just coming in at dawn. The cresting waves sliding onto the cool, dry sand. She didn’t believe me.
Not that I expected her too, she isn’t the kind to take flattering comments, even if they are well meant. I just like to say them to her anyway, she see her body tense for a split second, her clouded eyes darting nervously. And then utter calm as she tells me how crazy I am.
I wish I was trapped in one of those endless nights, where everything is draped in shades of deep orange and blue. Where is doesn’t matter if we laugh too loudly or say something wrong. And she probably wouldn’t mind if I…
It didn’t matter then any way and all these thoughts went past in a matter of seconds before I turned around towards the blazing core. It was rather ironic how I was practically gleaming blue, yet crimson red, rusty orange, and deadly white seemed to fill my vision.
So I looked up to my creator and my demise…

-The Two-Thousandth Seven Hundredth and Sixteenth Goddess of the Elemental Water
Myria

-

Vesper is too old for this.
She had never born a child in her life, nor had she ever raised one. Yet now, at the ripe age of seventy eight, she had to deal with an adult woman who was acting like a lazy teenager. It wasn’t easy for a woman her age to be constantly caring for someone who could run from one side of the planet to the next without losing one breath.
Vesper had better things she could be doing. She could be caring for Feyr, doing her endless paper work, burning something, and, Goddess withheld, work. Of course, caring for the most recent addition to the goddess tribune was rather like work, except work didn’t follow one home and then try to douse her in icy water. Though even old Feyr, who was a living corpse, found that one amusing.
Vesper carefully dusted off her hands and surveyed her work. The old fireplace in Feyr’s room was filthy and choked any fire that was laid within it. She had made quick work of sweeping it clean. Vesper quickly looked over her shoulder at her old friend. Feyr was bedridden most of the time now, only getting up for emergencies.
Vesper quickly lowered her eyes again; it was never a good sign when a goddess was lying in bed most of the time. Feyr was a great goddess of air, wise and quick even past her prime, but it wouldn’t be good enough to keep her alive much longer.
It was already surprising how long she had lived, ninety two, over ten years older than Vesper. The oldest goddess to ever live…Vesper shook her head and rapidly starting laying down wood for a fire. Feyr had thin skin and would freeze in the cold nights without a properly working fire.
Smiling to herself, Vesper quietly held out one hand and conjured a small flickering flame. She rather liked to watch such small fires, so free and lively. A candle is much more flexible than a heaping bonfire, though both have their benefits. She slowly tipped her hand and let the small flame cascade into the fire place, where the logs began burning immediately.
She really couldn’t remember having no control over fire. Even as a child she would pick up small flames from her mother’s fireplace and juggle them around the room. It terrified her mother and her older sister would laugh. So then Vesper would take more and start throwing them about wildly as she would laugh louder. This would usually end in something burning up, like her mother’s favorite apron.
A small noise interrupts Vesper from her thoughts and she turns to the open doorway. Ytiny is standing there with a basket. Wrinkles cover her passive face, thick and leathery. Her worn hands are covered in calluses and with perpetual dirt under her nails. Vesper smiles to her older sister, “What are you doing, up so late?” she whispers and motions slightly towards the bed where Feyr sleeps. She gets up from her seated position.
Ytiny tilts her head giving it a small crack, “Was harvest some midnight shrooms,” She tilts the basket so Vesper can see the sleek fungi, “I think this is the first time all year that they have turned out so well,” She looks at Feyr, “How is she?”
“Just fine, I was cleaning her fireplace just now,” Vesper lowers her voice further, “She has had a long day. She had to come back early to rest,” They both stand there is silence for a moment before Vesper smiles softly, “She came just in time to see me nearly get drowned,”
Ytiny giggles quietly, “Oh, if only I was there. I am eternally grateful that I was born first so I don’t have to deal with new goddesses,”
The younger sister glares, “Well, I really shouldn’t be the one taking care of her; earth and water go much better together,”
The other goddess smiles grimly, “But I am too old, I hardly have time for gardening now, let alone my duties,” She gazes again at Feyr, “I will probably turn into her in a couple of months…I can feel it in my old joints,”
Vesper nearly opens her mouth to protest, but Ytiny shakes her head and slowly leaves from the doorway. Sighing, Vesper slowly makes her way towards the still figure of Feyr, “May the Goddess bless your dreamings,” she murmurs softly and lays a warm hand upon the old goddess’s forehead.
She stands still for a moment and then jumps back, her hand now cold. The fire behind her flashes brightly and then goes out; leaving Vesper’s shocked form in darkness. Ytiny, whom was making her way down the hallway stops suddenly in her tracks, the basket falling to her feet and mushrooms spilling around her ankles.
Several hallways further a much younger goddess sits straight up in her bed, her skin eerily dry and her lips chapped. She reaches around her covers searching for something lost that she cannot find. Her lips move unconsciously, words barely above a whisper, “Lost…no, just gone…passed across…forever…g-goodbye…Feyr,”
Myria’s words are extinguished by her bitter tears.