A Fool's Goddess - Chapter Ten
I don’t know how long I remained in that void. To be honest, I was convinced I had died. I thought I was going to be left drifting in that unfeeling abyss, awaiting whatever came next as though I were simply sitting patiently in the lobby of Tornara’s Pleasant Lands.
So I was more than a little surprised when I started to feel pain once again.
My head, my ribs, my whole body was aching. As I slowly opened my eyes, I could see I was on the ground, surrounded by blood. My mouth was terribly dry and I could feel the weight of the table pressing down on me. My limbs tingled with numbness, but every beat of my heart brought more sensation, more life to my extremities.
I blinked as I began to remember how I got like this.
Before I could start moving, however, I was interrupted by the tapping of footsteps. Despite the fog in my mind, I had enough awareness to know that keeping still was vital for now. I attempted to control my breathing as I listened intently.
The footsteps came down the stairs and through the living room, not stopping at me or anything else. Surprisingly, they headed straight for the front door and passed through it. The familiar click of the lock echoed into the room, followed by the sound of something heavy being dragged around outside.
Then, silence made its return.
I carefully pulled myself out from under the table. My arms felt weak, but they would have to manage. I moved slowly in an effort to not make any noise, but I couldn’t prevent the heavy bang of the table hitting the floor. I froze momentarily and strained my ears, but thankfully my actions didn’t seem to have drawn any attention. Finally free, I crawled over to the wall and sat against it to breathe and gather myself. My head began to throb even worse, but I ignored it. The pain would just help wake me up.
I looked back at the table. There wasn’t too much blood under it, so that told me I probably wasn’t going to faint again. Putting a hand to where the man had struck me, I could feel the skin was broken and swollen, but it had stopped bleeding at least. My skull must have survived the impact somehow.
I then looked around the rest of the room. Furniture was knocked over, a few shards of broken dishware were scattered around, and the floor was stained with ichor. It looked exactly like what it was: the scene of a violent attack. Seeing the place vandalized angered me, but that emotion was inconsequential in the face of what I saw next.
I saw her.
Right where I had last seen her before I passed out, collapsed on the floor, surrounded by blood.
I saw what remained of Master Malka.
Her arm was still extended as if she couldn’t have pulled it back after her final act of defiance. But where her head should have been, there was only a jumbled mass of flesh, bone, and brain. Her hair was tangled in the gore, and her lower jaw was the only thing that remained remotely intact above her neck. Her tongue dangled limply from the top of her exposed throat while bits of teeth formed little white islands in the sea of red around her.
Master Malka was dead.
She was dead.
Left a deformed mess, reminiscent of the nightmares she sought to bring into this world.
I vomited. I wanted to heave my very life out, but all that came up was a yellow sludge. It dribbled down the front of my tunic and sank into my clothes. I couldn’t even register its stench.
I weakly rose to my feet. I managed to make it to her body before I fell back onto my knees, sitting in my master’s blood.
Without a thought towards the risk of being heard, I began to weep.
This isn’t what Master Malka deserved. She presented herself as cold, but that act couldn’t have been more misleading. She was too caring, too loving, enough that she valued her assistant’s life over her own.
By the Gods, she had placed herself between that man and I the moment she grew suspicious. She was ready to protect me- no, she did protect me! Jumping in first, grabbing his leg, she would have told me to run if she had the opportunity!
… It must have broken her heart when she saw me hit the floor.
There wasn’t a word miserable enough to describe my despair.
It wasn’t fair. It should have been me protecting her. She had a wife, a studio, and incredible talent, things she shouldn’t have cast aside to save anyone, let alone an idiot like me. It shouldn’t have mattered how she felt about me; there was far too much at stake for her to toss her life away so carelessly.
And yet she did it without a moment of hesitation, allowing me to survive.
What a fool.
My tears fell into her blood and were lost immediately. For all I cared, an eternity passed as I sat next to my master’s corpse. It was only when I heard voices outside that I even looked up. I emptily gazed towards the kitchen, following the source of the sound. Some shred of my mind told me it was coming through the nearby window.
I was then taught how truly merciless the world can be.
There, dumped on the kitchen floor, I saw something… no, someone.
Chen.
Not the imposter, but my friend who had helped me more than I could have ever hoped to repay.
Sprawled on his back in an unnatural manner.
I didn’t want to leave Master’s side, but I had to see him, had to find out why Chen was there and what had happened to him. Reluctantly, I lifted myself out of the blood and slowly shuffled into the kitchen.
His disturbing pose was just one sign of what I feared to be true. His limbs were stuck in uncomfortable positions and his eyes were horrifyingly bulged. His face was locked into a permanent scream of terror and anguish, a bloodshot expression that spoke of a ruthless end.
For some reason, he was left in only his underclothes. Chen would have started work by now, so he should have had his freighter’s tunic on. He was still wearing yesterday’s tunic when I put him to bed, and it was unlikely he had taken it off in his sleep. Someone else must have taken it, and I had a strong suspicion of who that was.
With morbid determination, I then crouched next to Chen’s body. He didn’t have any wounds, but his skin was eerily pale while his lips were almost blue. Knowing what that implied, I reached over and lifted up his beard. A long, dark bruise circled his neck, telling me he had likely been strangled with a rope. The claw marks in front of his throat suggested he had futilely struggled against the attack, and a glance at Chen’s blood-encrusted nails confirmed that fact.
How did the Gods allow this?
Because losing my master wasn’t enough, my best friend was also taken from me.
But I didn’t start crying again. Part of me felt ashamed of my subdued response, but that part was swiftly drowned out by a swelling torrent of rage.
I needed to find the one who did this. I needed to find that man and take more than just his eye. A fresh wave of adrenaline filled me. My senses returned, sharper than ever, growing with my bloodlust, and what pain lingered in my body was shoved to the back of my consciousness.
However, that sharpness allowed me to finally noticed the noxious smell in the air.
I looked for the source, and saw that oil had been spread across the kitchen and living room. In fact, my own clothes were spattered with it. I rose to my feet and followed the trail of liquid, noticing that it continued into the studio and up the stairs.
But my investigation was cut short by the sound of man’s voice
His voice. That bastard was still here, just in front of the building, shouting gleefully as if the atrocities he had just committed were no more than a child’s prank.
“People of Dostyn, I am Asa, speaker for the Heralds of the Divine!”
My eyes darted around the floor, voraciously seeking my chisel. I spotted it a few feet away from the flipped table. Dashing to the tool and taking it in hand, I then ran to the front door. The handle turned, but the door wouldn’t move an inch. I couldn’t risk making too much noise by tackling the door yet, so I instead ran back into the kitchen and looked through the window.
I couldn’t see what was barricading the exit, but I spotted the red hair of that bastard, Asa. He was now wearing a long black robe and had cloth wrapped around his head to hide his gouged eye. He was accompanied by several similarly-dressed figures, all standing in a line in front of the studio. A crowd was gathering, curious to the man’s words but ignorant of his actions.
“We have come to your city to cleanse it of the invading Ventilians!” he continued. “We were informed that Dostyn has been infected with heretics trying to spread their faith, so we have come to remove these parasites! But do not fear! We will not harm you nor your city! We only seek to rid you of these heathens, as ordained by the divine pantheon!”
I ran into the studio to try the back door, only to discover it was similarly obstructed. This time, I let myself pound on the door, but it refused to budge. I gave it one more slam out of frustration.
Why the fuck did they block the exits if they believed everyone inside was dead?!
As if he heard me, Asa bellowed out his plans for the studio.
“There are three sinners inside this building as we speak! We have begged them to reject their wicked god and turn their eyes towards the Five! But even now, they refuse to step outside and face the light! So, we now beseech the Gods to show them the error of their ways!
“We do so in front of you, citizens of Dostyn, so that you may see who the Gods have chosen and know the consequences of betraying their love! Today, across this city, we are exposing the heretics, and will continue to expose them until we have saved Dostyn!”
I could scarcely believe what I was hearing. If it weren’t for the death and madness I had already borne witness to, I would have thought he was reciting the words of a theater act. Asa and his cohorts were insane, a cadre of zealous liars. Two of the three so-called “sinners” were already dead, and none of them had ever followed the Ventilian faith. What they had done was murder, plain and without reason.
No, they did have a reason. It just didn’t excuse their actions. If anything, it justified every bit of hatred I held for Asa and his “Heralds”.
They had killed my friends to support their agenda, spinning a false tale of foreign gods and unrepentant sinners. They didn’t care about Chen, Master Malka, or I. We were just pawns in their schemes, scapegoats ripe for the butcher’s block. It was unforgivable.
I needed to get out of here. I wouldn’t be able to attack Asa with his fellows around, but if I could slip into the crowd, watch him, I could wait until he was alone and take his other eye… and hopefully more.
“Oh Five Divines, I beg of you! Please, if these sinners are meant to be saved, then show them the truth! But if they are not, I entreat you, set this house ablaze so that Dostyn made be freed from their blight!”
And on cue, the studio’s window shattered. Turning towards the noise, I watched as a lit torch was thrown past the broken glass. The firebrand spun through the air and landed next to a puddle of oil.
I didn’t stay to watch the ignition. My instincts kicked in and I bolted out of the studio. I slammed the door behind me as soon as I entered the hallway. It wouldn’t stop the flames, but it might slow them down.
I needed to think fast. This building was about to be engulfed in flames and I needed to get out of it. Even now, the smell of smoke was seeping into the hallway, and I could feel the temperature rising rapidly.
“The Gods have spoken! Our sinners are beyond redemption! Oh such pitiful souls, may you regret the actions that have led you to this divine pyre! People of Dostyn, let us pray that our Gods may cast mercy upon them as they are scorched from our land!”
The studio was as good as gone. If I went through the front window or somehow broke through the barricade, I’d be right in front of Asa and the rest of those robed fuckers. I wanted revenge, but I couldn’t be careless either. The only other window on the first floor was in the studio, so that meant my best bet was upstairs. The neighboring buildings were only single-story, so perhaps I could jump to another roof and move from there.
Then it struck me. The second story.
Tornara’s painting is still in the gallery.
I sprinted up the stairs. I had to save that, if nothing else. I had already lost the two people most important to me, I refused to lose everything.
The flames still hadn’t burned through the hallway door yet, but I couldn’t rely on it holding them back much longer. I barged into the gallery and pulled Tornara’s painting off the wall. I snatched up the old book as well, stuffing it into my toolbelt’s pouch as I dashed out of the room. I then ran into the bathroom and slammed the window open.
Per usual, it overlooked a neighbor’s roof. The distance between the two buildings didn’t seem too wide, but it was still daunting. The window was just large enough for me to leap through, even with the painting in hand. I put my foot on the bottom of the frame to ready myself, pausing only to glance at my precious cargo.
I then stopped.
Is this the right thing to do?
I was suddenly unassured, no longer confident in my actions. Cradling the image of Tornara in my arm, I saw the injustice of my own escape. As Master Malka and Chen were left to burn in the studio, I was going to escape with my beloved Goddess.
Two innocents had died while the wretch who had invited such malice was going to live.
The zealots standing in front of the studio likely thought we were spreading the Ventilian faith because of my sculptures of Tornara. I never hid the fact that she was a Goddess, in fact, I eagerly told anyone who asked. Since no one else knew of her past, they must have assumed the God I was sharing was from another land. And even if Asa’s group had somehow known about Tornara’s history and relation to the rest of the pantheon, it wasn’t a long shot to think they would cremate us anyways for playing host to a “heretic goddess”.
I grimaced with cold realization. There was no denying it: my devotion to Tornara was what brought this tragedy upon us.
Because I willfully ignored the warnings I received back in Unoph, my closest companions were killed. Because I believed I could defy those hateful, paranoid eyes, blood had been spilled over Tornara once again.
Did I really deserve to live after failing everyone so spectacularly?
Master Malka and Chen weren’t supposed to die here. Wouldn’t it be better for me to burn with them? It was madness that I not only survived, but I even planned to run away with my Goddess, the fundamental cause of their deaths. Of course, it wasn’t Tornara’s fault, it was mine, but surely she could understand that I needed to pay for what I done?
Surely Tornara would understand if I ended it all here…
I dropped my hand from the window frame.
But as my arm slumped to my side, I heard the tiny clinking of cheap stones rattling on one another. Looking down at my wrist, I saw my bead bracelet, that offhanded gift from Chen. A lucky charm given to me just before he voiced his concerns for my safety.
“I think you should leave too… I don’t like the thought of you getting killed out there either.”
When he had said that, he was suggesting how we might avoid the war. Yet Chen’s plans for survival had already failed, his life ended long before a battle had reached us.
Would it be any consolation to know that I was still alive? What would my dear friend want me to do? Would he want me to die with him? To break out and try to kill Asa? Or would he still want me to run from this conflict, to continue living my arrogant life?
I pictured his bearded face, grinning and foamed with ale. Try as I might, I couldn’t imagine him telling me to burn to death or even risk my life for revenge. Without hesitation, he’d tell me to get my ass out the burning building and stay away from whoever had started the fire.
And I knew Master Malka was the same.
She was equally innocent in this. She was a gentle recluse who just wanted to express something only she could see. Nothing in her life justified what Asa had done to her. But she suffered that fate because she defended me. Because of her assistant, she was left a bloody mess on her own floor.
But there was no way she would want me to die here, regardless if it was for revenge or out of despair. If Master found out that I wasted the life she had protected, she’d make dying the least of my worries.
“You’re not just my assistant, Wannabe. You’re part of my family. You’re not someone I can replace.”
Master Malka was part of my family too, and just as irreplaceable. Giving up on the life she had saved would be the same as betraying that bond we had shared. My master had bequeathed more than just sculpting techniques to me, and it was now my duty to ensure those teachings survived.
Right, even if it was arrogant to do so, I had to keep going. My life belonged to more than just me now.
I stepped away from the window frame and placed Tornara’s painting against the wall. I crouched down and put on a weak smile for her.
“I’ll be right back. I just have a promise I need to keep.”
With that, I ran back downstairs.
I went straight to the living room, holding my arm across my face in a bid to ease my breathing. Smoke was now seeping from all edges of the studio door, but I had to ignore it. There was one last thing to do in Master’s home. If I couldn’t do this, then I didn’t have the right to make it out of here.
“Just don’t leave without saying anything.”
I stood at the edge of that crimson pool of blood, between the disfigured forms of Master Malka and Chen. Through the suffocating smoke and heat, I did my best to stay calm as I crouched down for my final farewells.
“Master, Chen, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for what happened to you,” I said despondently. “I wish I could have saved you. You two were the best people I have ever met. You helped me realize what I really wanted and how I could make those dreams come true. Neither of you deserved to die here.
“I wish I could send you off properly, but I don’t think I’ll even be able to come back here. The people outside didn’t even try to stop those bastards, probably because they’re afraid of being labelled heretics as well. Makes me think all of Dostyn’s gone mad. At least for a little while, I’ll have to leave the city. I knew we were all thinking of leaving, but… not like this. I never would have wanted anything like this…”
A booming crack resounded from the studio. The air in the living room suddenly grew even hotter. I winced as soot and ash whirled around me, stinging my eyes and making breathing a near-impossible endeavor.
“Damn, I’ve gotta go now,” I coughed. “But don’t worry, I won’t let myself die here. I don’t know if I can get revenge on the bastard who did this to you, but I won’t let him take everything. I’ll escape and carry your words within me. You both gave me a better life than I could have hoped for, and I won’t squander it. It might take some time, but I’ll see you again in the Pleasant Lands. Until then…”
I took one last look at the fallen forms of my beloved master and my dearest friend.
“Goodbye, Master Malka. Goodbye, Chen.”
My promise fulfilled, I shot to my feet and ran back up to the second floor. Bursting into the bathroom, I snatched up Tornara’s portrait and readied myself on the window frame once more.
Then, without a hint of indecision, I hurled myself outside.
Enjoyed the chapter and want to support the author? Check out the full novel, available now on Amazon!
