A Fool's Goddess - Chapter Six
“Not going,” Master Malka said without turning away from her stone block.
“Why not?” I asked, spinning clay on the pottery wheel next to her. “I know you don’t particularly care for Chen, but it’s a wedding. The free food and drinks should at least be worth your time.”
“Too many people.”
“He’s only inviting ten or so. And his fiance only has two guests.”
“Still too many.”
“That’s not the actual reason, is it?”
Master Malka paused her chiseling, then said, “I don’t have any nice clothes.”
That was probably true. I rarely ever saw her in anything besides a basic tunic. There was the time she fell ill and didn’t bother changing out of a robe for a week and the thick coat she would wear for winter, but never anything close to formal wear. In fact, her hair was a similar case: always in a bun unless circumstances forced otherwise.
“There’s plenty of time to buy some. And even if you don’t, it’s not like you’re a bridesmaid. It doesn’t really matter what you wear so long as you take a bath and maybe put some pants on.”
“Hmm.”
“Why don’t you have anything nice, anyways? What’d you get married in?”
“A dress I borrowed.”
“Really? I thought most people like to keep their wedding clothes. Why didn’t you buy one?”
“Don’t like showing off my body.”
“Master, you’re half-naked most of the time I’m here.”
“And?”
I rolled my eyes. “Well, it just seems odd you’d feel that way. I guess I took you for more of an exhibitionist.”
“Dumbass. Working makes me sweat. This keeps me cool.”
“Fair enough, I suppose. Still doesn’t explain why you don’t have a dress.”
“I told you I went to college, right?”
“Yeah, and that’s where you learned how to sculpt, correct?”
“Mm-hm. In my classes, we were supposed to take turns modeling for other students. We’d draw names from a bucket to choose who’d do it.”
“Ah, so modeling for people made you dislike showing off your body?” Imagining a timid, young Master Malka shyly baring herself in front of others seemed unlikely, however. Mostly because I rarely saw her express anything but tremendous indifference.
“No, my asshole classmates rigged it so I kept getting picked. They just wanted an excuse to see me naked instead of actually practicing.”
“Wow. I can’t imagine you just let them get away with it, though.”
“Nope. After the third time, I got the headmaster to step in since he didn’t want to lose talent like mine. Turned out the teacher was in on it too. Assholes got kicked from the class and the teacher got replaced.”
“Damn. Talk about just desserts.”
“So, now I don’t bother to own clothes that are just to make myself look good. People tend to judge me on looks alone and don’t take me seriously. Wearing nice things just makes it worse. They see a woman with big tits and assume I’m a model and not the sculptor. Pisses me off.”
I nodded. “I can sympathize. Everyone in Unoph thought I was cursed and wouldn’t even talk to me. That ended up making me aware of how shallow people could be, so I try not to stop at first impressions. You must have picked up on that and understood you wouldn’t have to dress differently while I’m in the studio.”
“No, I don’t bother because I don’t care what you think.”
“O-ouch!”
She let out a small laugh at my expense.
It was always interesting to hear Master Malka’s stories. She was like a math equation, the culmination of rules and information working into an understandable outcome. I would have chalked up her lacking wardrobe as just another one of my master’s quirks, but she continued to be ultimately reasonable, despite her esoteric tendencies. Every explanation she gave was a fascinating new insight into the mind of a talented sculptor.
Though I could have done without that final remark…
Then again, maybe that was Master Malka’s way of expressing her trust in me. She didn’t need to worry about how I thought of her physically because she knew I respected her talents as an artist first and foremost. As fellow sculptors, we both understood that the creator was less important than their creations.
I decided to think of it that way, if only to spare my ego.
“Anyways, are you sure you want me to tell Chen you won’t go?” I asked again. “Gili’s gonna be there so I thought you’d want to join her.”
Master Malka turned and glared at me. “Say that first next time.”
“Sorry, I thought you knew.”
“She didn’t say anything to me.”
“She probably just didn’t get the chance yet. You’re both pretty busy with your respective businesses after all.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Well, do you wanna go now?”
She grunted ambiguously.
“Sooo… is that a ‘yes’?”
Master Malka sighed. “Yes, I’ll go.”
“Excellent, I’ll let Chen know while we’re out tonight.”
“Don’t get drunk again.”
“I won’t. I swear, I actually learned my lesson last time.”
“Sure, Wannabe.”
“Tell you what, I won’t drink at all if you say you’ll stop calling me “Wannabe”.”
“You know the rules.”
“You’ll bother to remember my name once I’ve done something worth remembering,” I recited. “Gods know you’ve told me enough times. I’m just afraid I’ll be out of here before that actually happens.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll never remember your name.”
“You may as well just say you don’t think I’ll amount to anything!”
“I’m hungry. Go buy some lunch.”
“Fine, fine…” I was pretty much done with this pot anyways. I finished up the final details, set it on a board with a group of similar pieces, then lowered the batch into a kiln. “What do you feel like?”
“Something spicy.”
“Can you be more specific?”
“Nope.”
And I knew that was the end of our conversation.
I left the studio and went into the house. At the entryway, I tied my sandals on and checked my wallet. I probably had enough for whatever my master was looking for, so now it was just up to me to figure out what that was. I then stepped through the door and onto the familiar roads.
After spending the last five years in Dostyn, I already knew where to go. Plenty of small shops on the market street offered hot links and the like, but Master Malka rarely ate meat. Instead, I headed towards a restaurant that was just down the road.
The master had first taken me there to cure a hangover, and the power of their traumatically spicy noodle bowls cleared both my mind and my sinuses. Of course, the burning that persisted in my orifices was almost worse than the hangover, but I think part of the experience was to try and get me to stop drinking so much in a night.
But it’s not my fault Dostyn’s ales are so good. And I can’t just let Chen win every drinking contest. The loser has to pay after all.
I opened the door to the restaurant. It was a small place with a cozy interior, and the air alone was enough to sting my nostrils. The staff were familiar with me by this point, so when I walked in, they already knew what I was going to order: a mild bowl for myself and the “Infernal Hell” set for Master Malka. They got started right away while I patiently took a seat and waited. Despite not being nearly as fond of spicy food as the master, I still liked the place, admittedly because the owner was nice enough to display sculptures from both Master Malka and I.
Right next to the doorway was a carving of Tornara I had made a couple years ago. It was life-sized, showing her shyly casting her gaze away, with one arm hung at her side while its opposite grasped her elbow. She appeared demure, but still held a little smile on her face. I was quite happy to make it, and even happier to hear the restaurant would display it. Master Malka even said it was one of my best works, rating it four out of ten.
Master’s piece was smaller, roughly the size of a melon, and it sat on a shelf near the kitchen counter. It looked like an open, cube-shaped clam, but the inside was a slew of ravenous, biting animal heads. Dogs, raptors, lizards, cats, fish, and a few humans, all gnashing with unnaturally sharp teeth. I was a bit surprised that they chose to place my master’s more avant-garde sculpture in such a prominent spot, but the owner of this place was a big fan of hers. He was beyond ecstatic when Master Malka agreed to sell the piece, and though her face remained as cool as ever, I knew she was happy as well.
In no time at all, the cooks had prepared the food and boxed it up for me. I thanked them and paid the tab, along with a little extra. I then walked back to the studio as I prepared my intestines for the burning to come.
I knew Master Malka would be back in the house by then. She didn’t like eating in her studio since it was always dusty in there. She also appeared to have taken a bath while I was gone, something equally expected. She was rather attentive of being clean, mostly out of respect for her wife and their home.
She had made tea while I was gone and already had a cup poured for me. I passed her meal over and sat down at the other side of the table.
“It still feels like a dream that I can go to some place and see a statue I carved there,” I said, readying my fork. “It’s good to see the restaurant’s been taking good care of it too.”
“Mm,” grunted Master Malka as she dug in.
“Feels even more surreal that I actually get requests to make artwork of Tornara. I always wanted to share her beauty, so I can’t even describe how happy it makes me when someone asks for her by name. I bet she’s delighted too.”
I took a bite of my noodles. They were thick and covered in tangy sauce, and they would have been delicious if the cooks could just tone down the spiciness a bit more. Even their most mild menu items could paralyze the tongue. I quickly chased it with some tea.
“I never wanted to try and get people to believe in her like some sort of missionary, so I’m really glad that people want to learn about her through their own curiosity. Didn’t expect I’d have to start keeping the painting and book here in the studio, though. I assumed they wouldn’t interest other people, but at least I have them on hand to reference in my work. It feels like I’m able to give Tornara what she blessed me with: a fresh start and a happier life. And it’s really thanks to you, Master. I wouldn’t have been able to do this without your guidance.”
“Mmhm.”
“I remember when I started here, I had to take care of all the client requests before I was free to sculpt her. Now I get enough people asking for the Goddess that I can barely tell the difference between my work and my hobbies. In a word, it’s wonderful.”
Master Malka continued to wordlessly eat her lunch. Despite being called an “Infernal Hell” set, she wasn’t even sweating. For someone who complained of getting hot too easily, peppers were no more menacing than apples to her.
“By the by, I ordered more plaster. We’ve been getting more requests for things made with that, so I figured it was best to stock up now. Chen will probably deliver it tomorrow, since he’ll take any excuse to come by, so I can hold off telling him about your decision to go to the wedding if you don’t want me to steal your thunder.”
My master looked up from her food, staring at me with her unchanging gaze.
“… Right, I’ll just tell him tonight.”
We then finished our meals in pleasant quietude. After that, we both headed back into the studio and continued our work. Master Malka resumed chiseling her block of stone, but it was too early to see what it was going to be. The pottery I was heating was far from done, and with no other pending orders, my time was now my own.
Of course, it was probably obvious how I’d choose to spend it. Without further ado, I moved to one of the free workbenches to begin a new sculpture of Tornara.
I had recently been doing more chisel work, and had even experimented with wood, but I felt like using clay once again. The fluidity of the material always felt best to me, and the mental image I had of Tornara reading under a tree was very ‘clay figure’ to me. I grabbed a lump of the grey material, and with barely any thought, my fingers began molding.
Master and I continued to intermittently banter while we worked on our respective projects. I never found talking with her to be distracting. If anything, occupying my mouth and ears helped my hands and eyes focus on the sculpture. And even when I didn’t feel like talking, silence was just as good to this studio’s master. It wasn’t uncommon for us to go hours, even days, with barely a word to one another.
Another reminder of how felicitous our relationship was.
Once the sunlight from the windows began to ebb, I knew it was almost closing time. Or rather, the studio would close while Master Malka continued to work until she was done. I would often leave one evening and return the next morning, only to find she hadn’t moved an inch in that time. The only difference would be that she would have made further progress towards completing her latest piece.
It was concerning at first to see Master work for days on end, but it took only one instance of seeing her sleep afterwards to understand why she did it. Her nightmares hounded her, denying her any rest, yet once she dragged that terror into reality and bound it in stone, she would sleep peacefully for an entire day or two straight.
When I expressed concern about the effects such a turbulent sleep schedule might have on her, it was Boss Gili who dismissed my worries. She explained how Master Malka had lived this way her entire life, concluding our discussion with a gentle assurance.
“She’ll be fine. Her dreams are always pleasant after she’s put her nightmares away.”
Of course, I then wondered what it would look like if Master Malka sculpted one of her dreams. She always said she had little desire in expressing mundane things, so I had to assume they were nothing like her nightmares. Did that mean she dreamed of realism and everyday occurrences? I can’t imagine she’d think that was “pleasant”, but if her dreams were as fantastical as her nightmares, why didn’t she commit them to stone?
When I asked Master what she saw in her dreams, she flatly claimed to never remember. My gut told me that was a lie, but my pestering was only rewarded with sharp quips. She did smile a bit while we spoke, so I have to assume whatever she dreamed about was something she liked. There was probably a reason behind why she danced around the topic anyways.
As I told Master Malka I was leaving for the night, she gave me another warning about drinking too much. I assured her that I would stop at two pints, but all I got was an unamused expression while I said farewell. Honestly, I really did want to take it easy tonight. Not only because Master had made a hobby of punishing my hangovers, but I also hadn’t seen Chen for a while. I thought I should remember at least one of our nights out.
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