A Fool's Goddess - Chapter Thirteen
You could cut the tension with a knife...
I really must have pissed Tzofiya off. Anyone could see my relationship with the mayor was going to be awkward at best if I didn’t do something soon. It was probably a bad idea to speak directly, so I decided to try and worm my way back into her favor with small talk instead.
“So, was that your little brother?”
“That’s my son, Hed,” she replied flatly.
“Wow, I’ve never been called just ‘head’ before.”
“No, dumbass, that’s my kid’s name. Hed. H-E-D.”
My gut plummeted. “Oh. Sorry, I didn’t know…”
“If you make fun of his name again, I’ll kick the shit out of you.”
Well, things were just going swimmingly. But to be fair, how was I supposed to know her son had a weird name?
“Again, I’m sorry. I’ve just never heard that name before.”
“My little brother… you trying to say he looks too old for his age?”
“No, it’s that you look so young. I didn’t think you were old enough to be a mother.”
“Feh. Flattery won’t work on me.” However, the edge of her mouth crinkled with the slightest of smiles. “I’m thirty-two, that’s plenty old for kids.”
“What?!” I was genuinely surprised, enough to momentarily forget I was trying to ease the mood. “You’re kidding me, you’re ten years older than me?”
“Wait, you’re only twenty-two?!”
“How old did you think I was?!”
“Not twenty-two, that’s for sure!”
“C-can you give me a number?”
“… Maybe forty at best?”
“Impossible, I can’t look that old!” I cried out. “It’s true I haven’t had time to shave, but once I do, you’ll see that I’m a handsome, young gentleman!”
“Calling yourself a “handsome, young gentleman” is exactly what an outdated geezer would do.”
“Whatever! I looked my age last time I checked a mirror!”
“When was that? Maybe you were lost in those woods longer than you thought?”
“There’s a bit of a difference between six days and twenty years!”
Tzofiya snickered, much to my relief. Even if it was through unintended means, my plan seemed to be working. I could tolerate having my age questioned if it made things easier between us.
I sighed with semi-faux indignation. “Well, putting my destroyed ego aside, how old is Hed?”
“He’ll be thirteen this year.”
“He was, uh, joking about killing me… right?”
“Sure, let’s say he was.”
“Well, thank you for letting see the village first.”
“Hmph, you’re taking your final moments pretty well.”
“I get to enjoy a coastal vista after being tied to a bed by a lovely lady. Sounds like a pretty decent last day to me.”
“Ah…! You…!”
Going off how red her face turned, it was obvious she didn’t consider how lecherous having a naked man strapped to your bed was. The opportunity shined out to me wonderfully. I decided to double down on her sudden vulnerability.
“It really was something. I didn’t expect you to take my clothes off like that, but I did like the part where you made me confess my deepest feelings.”
“I-I was just asking where you came from, you dumbass! You’re the one who rambled on about love and shit!”
“You know, I had never done bondage play before either. Are a lot of older women into that, or is more of a local specialty?”
“You didn’t even know I was older until a minute ago!”
She punched me in the shoulder, hard enough that it actually hurt. But despite her aggression, Tzofiya kept laughing.
“And that’s nothing to say about what you did to me while I was asleep. Now that I think about it, I did have some rather pleasant dreams, so did you maybe-”
“Alright, alright, shut up already!”
We stopped walking for a moment so the mayor could recover from her fit of laughter. A pair of passersby looked at us curiously. I awkwardly waved to them.
“Okay. Fine. I know what you’re trying to do,” sighed Tzofiya. “Apology accepted.”
It would seem I wasn’t half as subtle as I thought. Even if she was quick to laugh and a bit silly, Tzofiya was still plenty sharp. She composed herself and stared me in the eye, crossing her arms again. I took that as my cue to speak.
“I really am sorry for what I said earlier. To be honest, hearing you try to talk to me about moving past my friends’ deaths so soon irritated me. I tried to put the conversation back on you, but I can see I just ended up being an asshole.”
“Hmm… well, it ain’t your fault. You couldn’t have known. And I may have snapped back a little hard too.”
“It’s just… I’ve never lost someone important to me. I just can’t imagine not thinking about them anytime soon. It takes everything I have to not go find a dark corner and cry my eyes out. So, talking about moving on almost felt like I was being told to forget them. It’s just not something I can do right now.”
“I understand. Back when I first heard those words, they pissed me off too.”
“I take it you also lost someone close to you?” I tried to ask that as gently as possible. I didn’t need to know the specifics, and I certainly didn’t want to anger her again.
“… I did.”
It was a flat response, but there wasn’t a hint of resentment. Maybe we could talk about it another time, but for now, I was satisfied with just clearing the air between us. Judging from Tzofiya’s benign expression, she was similarly inclined.
“Damn. Well, it goes without saying that I can sympathize. You have my condolences.”
“Thanks,” she said dispassionately. “… C’mon, let’s not dawdle any longer. We’re almost there.”
With a wave, she started moving again. Satisfied with our resolution, I joined her.
Tzofiya wasn’t lying about our destination. I didn’t realize we were already on the other side of Tresety as the distance felt insipid to my Dostyn-sized standards. Running errands must be quite the simple affair when everything was in walking distance.
We then approached a smallish cabin that was surrounded by idols of the five Gods. They were wooden figures carved with exaggerated features and included the related imagery for each deity. Tzofiya knocked on the door once and, without waiting for an invitation, went inside. I cautiously followed along
The interior was what one might expect from a shaman. There were plenty of religious symbols and spiritual paraphernalia scattered about, and the smell of incense was heavy in the air. It was in the largest room of the cabin, a living space that had been converted into a shrine, that we found the shaman.
Sadly, our conversation with him would prove to be relatively unnecessary. The man himself was quite the character, with his insanely bushy eyebrows and hair that had never been cut. He even spoke with a certain rhythm, almost as if he was singing. However, he didn’t tell me anything more than what Tzofiya had already shared. The shaman claimed that I would help the village and that he could feel a “great power” watching over me.
Basically, he only confirmed what I knew.
I still made sure to thank him for helping me. The shaman explained that he had to cut into my wound in order to properly clear the infection, warning that my hair might not grow there again before handing me a mirror. Looking at my reflection, I could see the skin over my ear was still red, but it was now covered in sutures and barely inflamed. I was told to come back in a week or two to get the stitches removed.
I also took this opportunity to check the rest of my appearance. Sure, the beginnings of a beard made me look older, but I looked nothing close to forty. My face was nearly wrinkle-free and my hair was just as black as it had always been. Not even my new bald spot could justify Tzofiya’s estimate.
After that, we discussed my future in Tresety. I explained that if I was going to make pottery for them, I would need materials and a kiln. I could probably make my own cement or plaster, assuming I couldn’t get any clay, solving half the equation. However, Tzofiya then admitted that there wasn’t a single furnace in town.
Unfortunately, I had no idea how to construct one of those despite having worked with them for years. The three of us pondered a solution, but nothing came up that didn’t require money nobody had. I was about to ask if I should pay them back some other way when the shaman perked up and suggested I take “the baker’s home”.
Before I could express annoyance at my occupation being questioned again, Tzofiya elaborated for me.
A few years ago, a man had traveled to Tresety thinking he could make an easy profit by opening a bakery here. Once he realized that a poor fishing village had little need for fancy breads and cakes, he left without a word. His shop was still there, though its condition was anyone’s guess. The shaman thought I should see if I could repurpose the oven as a furnace, and Tzofiya agreed since it would also provide me with a place to sleep for now.
I guess my comments about spending three nights in her bed meant I wasn’t welcome to a fourth.
Regardless, I went with the idea. It was worth a shot, though I’d curb my expectations about making decent pottery in an oven. I was no engineer, but I had a feeling there was a reason no one fired their clay along with the day’s bread.
With that all settled, Tzofiya and I thanked the shaman for his time and stood to leave, but while I began moving towards the door, he stopped Tzofiya for a moment longer.
“I can feel he’s here for more than just pottery. Let’s do our best to make sure the village is fair to him,” he said in his sing-songy voice.
“Feh. You know you don’t need my help. I’m just the mayor.”
Tzofiya then turned and walked past me. We stepped back out and made our way to Tresety’s abandoned bakery.
The shop turned out to be one of those homes that seemed to be placed randomly and ruined what could have been decent city planning. It was located more towards Tzofiya’s home than the shaman’s, but relatively in the middle of the village. The exterior looked pretty standard, with a large chimney dominating a corner of the building. When we got to the entrance, Tzofiya pulled out a small metal hoop with several keys strung on it. After trying a few, she unlocked the door.
Although the building was the same size as the other residences, its interior was notably laid out into only three rooms: a bedroom, a bathroom, and a large, open area, likely what used to be the storefront. As expected, the corner farthest from the bedroom held the oven, with the rest of the room unexpectedly still furnished.
It seems the baker left most of his furniture when he left. A table, a dresser, a bed, a set of shelves, and a large wooden counter in front of the oven. I would guess he couldn’t afford to take them with him after his failed venture, but it was a miracle no one had broken in and stolen anything. The only things missing were the chairs, oddly enough. There weren’t any rugs on the floor or clothes in the dresser, but that wouldn’t be a problem since I didn’t plan to stay here forever.
The oven was more than a little different from a pottery furnace. It was open in the front and lacked a door so I would have to find a way to close that. Of course, that was assuming the thing could even get hot enough. In addition, the interior was wide and flat; any pots I made in this would be small. I turned to Tzofiya after my inspection.
“I’ll be honest, I don’t think this thing will work for making decent pottery.”
“Shit. Hmmm… I’ll try asking our smith if he can help. He might be able to modify it to suit your needs.”
“Hold up, if you have a smith, why can’t I just use his furnace?”
“Because he doesn’t live here, son. He lives in the port to the south, at least two days away. He’ll come by if I ask him to, though his house calls usually ain’t cheap. If we had a kiln in town, we’d probably have a potter, and I’d have you out catching fish right now.”
“Ah. Well, I’d appreciate it if you could get him to come here, but won’t that just make my tab even bigger?”
“Well now!” Tzofiya smiled widely. “That’s awful kind of you to foot the bill! We’ll do that then. I’ll pay him upfront and you can work off the difference!”
“Wait, I didn’t-”
“Well, adding that to the cost of your medicine, plus your rental of this fine building… my, you’re piling up quite the debt, son!”
She seemed to be enjoying this too much. For a mayor, she had no qualms about imploding the finances of one of her citizens, albeit a temporary one.
“… How much do I owe now?”
“Heh, don’t worry about it. I’ll give you an estimate after I see how good your pots are.”
“You know, I can make much more than pots.”
“Really? Well, we’ll see if there’s a market for that later. Just focus on making enough for the town’s storage needs for now.”
“That’s quite the tall order.”
“Don’t worry about how long it’ll take. I’ll make sure you’re fed while you’re here. And the shaman likes you, so you can expect the townsfolk to at least leave you alone.”
“Just how long do you plan to keep me here?”
“That’s really up to you now, isn’t it?” Tzofiya looked at me with a weighty stare. “I’m not gonna keep you on a leash, so I won’t be able to stop you if you decide to run away.”
“There’s not much point in me running. I don’t know the area and I don’t have any food.”
“But that might change in a few weeks. Though frankly, I don’t expect I’ll have to worry about you bolting on me.”
“Are you sure you don’t trust me?”
“I don’t. But I something tells me you’re made of better stuff than that.”
That was pretty much the same as trusting me. But it wasn’t like I was planning to go back on my word. I had nowhere else to go and no home to return to. I may as well indenture myself to the mayor of this little village for now.
“Well, I appreciate the confidence. For what it’s worth, I want to thank you for your hospitality and for setting me up with all of this. Even if it’s not what I would have planned, it is nice to have a place to work again.”
“You’re welcome. I try to be a good mayor.”
“Though, might I suggest you use less rope when you greet your next visitors? Or at least not tie it so tightly?”
“Hah! You’re a funny one, ain’t you?”
That was only half a joke. My wrists were still sore.
“Well, that sense of humor is half the reason I was willing to set you loose, son,” she continued. “I can’t say I dislike a guy who can make me laugh, even if he is pretty strange.”
“In a good way.”
I finished the adage without even thinking, reminding me of the fresh void in my life. I nearly recoiled as memories of Chen darted through my mind.
Tzofiya raised an eyebrow. “Sure, you can think of it like that. More importantly, what do you plan to do for now? I’ll send for him today, but the smith likely won’t be here for another three or four days.”
“Ah, with your permission, ma’am, I’d like to survey the surrounding area for materials I can use. I’d like to see if I can find any clay or decent stone, though I should at least be able to gather seashells for cement mix.”
“Hey, I might be older than you, but I’m far from ‘ma’am’ territory,” she chided. “But yeah, that’s fine. You can borrow the tools from my house for now. Just let me know what you’re taking.”
“Understood. Then I just want to ask about my possessions.”
Tornara’s painting, the book, and my sculpting tools were still at Tzofiya’s home. I would prefer to keep them in my temporary home, but if she really wanted to bind me to this agreement, Tzofiya could hold the painting hostage.
Hopefully she hadn’t considered that...
“You mean your painting and stuff?” She scratched under her blond curls. “Yeah, you can have those back. I don’t think I’d want your spooky Goddess hanging around my home.”
While she could have said that more nicely, I was relieved. “Thank you. I’ll go pick them up right now, if that’s okay.”
“Sounds good to me. I’ll also set you up with a couple more sets of clothes and some dinner. All on your tab, of course.”
“… Of course…”
We then climbed the hill back to Tzofiya’s home. Her son was still by the fire, but he quietly left shortly after we came back. While the mayor gathered some clothes for me, I went through my stuff to make sure it was all there. All my tools, the book and the painting, even that cheap bracelet from Chen. I smirked while I slipped it back on my wrist. My old clothes were also there, but they would be no match for Tresety’s cold winds. They would at least make for decent rags, I supposed.
With my arms already full, Tzofiya then stacked on a pile of clothes, a loaf of bread, a package of dried fish, and a couple skins of water. I could barely see over the mound. To finish things off, she then placed the key to my borrowed home in the pouch of my toolbelt.
“Alright, that should be everything.”
I shifted the items in my arms. “Hopefully I don’t trip on my way back.”
“Quit your fussing, you’ll be fine. Go get yourself settled in and come on back if there’s something else you need.”
“Will do, boss.”
“Huh, I like the sound of that. But that’ll give people the wrong impression, so just ‘Tzofiya’ is fine, son.”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer ‘Master’?”
“And let you trick me into another one of your perverted jokes? I was born at night, not last night.”
“Dang. Well, thanks again for everything. See you tomorrow?”
“We’ll see. Later.”
Tzofiya closed the door to her home. Slowly and carefully, I made my way down to the former bakery once again.
After the colossal effort of pulling the key out of my pouch without dropping everything, I went inside. Setting up what few things I had was easy and took less than ten minutes. The food was left on the table, clothes went in the dresser, and I found a nail in the bedroom to hang Tornara’s portrait from. And for the first time since I woke up, I was alone and free to relax.
It was exactly what I had been dreading.
Now that I was safe and by myself, I could stop and think. Running through the forest had left me focused on survival, and Tzofiya had dominated my time ever since I had regained consciousness. With nothing else to distract me, all I could think about was what happened back in Dostyn.
Those manic screams of Asa’s zealous fury, followed by pains both physical and immaterial.
The pulpy mess of Master Malka’s head that looked nothing like her wonderfully aloof face.
Chen’s eyes, bulging with the terror he felt before his last breath was choked out of him.
The flames that erased the studio and the subsequent rush of air as I left everything behind.
And my foolish outrage at Tornara during my first night in that damned forest.
I wasn’t going to slink back into self-loathing. Part of me wanted to, but between what Tzofiya had said and my own mindfulness, I was too aware that hating myself wouldn’t fix anything. But I couldn’t deny I still felt guilty that I had survived. It really didn’t help that I was already moving towards a new life either.
It was like losing them had only been a minor inconvenience.
I shook my head. Such thoughts were only going to worsen my regrets. What mattered was that I focused on moving forward and living, if only to make sure the memories of my friends weren’t lost. For now, that was all the motivation I needed.
Besides, I wasn’t in this alone. There was one who had always been at my side, guiding and protecting me throughout the nightmares of the past nine days.
My beloved Tornara, the Goddess of the Afterlife.
I laid down on what was now my bed. I didn’t have a blanket or even a pillow, but I didn’t feel like going back to Tzofiya so soon. I could bring it up tomorrow and just sleep in my clothes tonight. Until then, I supported my head with my hands. The bump above my ear throbbed a bit, but it was easy to ignore.
I could feel that old urge rising. It was hard not to, especially since I had a lot to say to her. I glanced over at Tornara’s painting before leaving my eyes staring at the ceiling.
“Thank you, Tornara,” I began. “You had every right to let me die out there, but you didn’t. Even after all those terrible things I said to you, you didn’t abandon me. You still believed in me despite how I questioned my faith in you. So many things could have happened to me while I was lost in that forest, but you protected me from it all. I really don’t deserve you.”
I felt my eyes water a little. I never seemed to cry much before, but now I couldn’t seem to go a day without a few tears. But I wasn’t going to stop myself, not after everything that had happened. I just let them drip.
“I was beyond stupid for closing my heart to you. I can say I was frustrated and scared, but those are just excuses. I was really just taking my anger out on you. What kind of man does that to a God, especially one like you? If you had struck me down right then, I wouldn’t have blamed you. I don’t really get why you’d continue to care about a weak follower like me, but I’ll do everything I can to make up for my failure. You helped me survive and even led me once again to a place where I can start my life anew. I owe you more than I can ever hope to repay.”
I sat upright on the bed again, looking Tornara’s portrait in the eyes. As always, she was smiling so kindly, so warmly.
Never changing in spite of the blame I cast on her.
“Once I’m able, I’ll begin to sculpt your image again. I feel like the village shaman would love a new collection of the Divines, so I’ll include you with them. It sounds like the villagers won’t give me any trouble either, so maybe they’ll be interested too. And even if they’re not, it doesn’t change anything. I said I would dedicate the rest of my life to you, so that’s what I’ll do.”
I got off the bed and walked up to Tornara’s painting. Delicately, I stroked my fingers along the canvas. The subtle bumps in the paint sent goosebumps down my arm, filling me with ecstasy. The touch was exciting, electrifying.
“I love you, Tornara. I love you, with all of my heart.”
I stared wistfully at her a moment longer before stepping out of the bedroom.
Soon after, I treated myself to the food Tzofiya had ‘given’ me. It was plain stuff, but it was splendid after my previous meals in the forest. Afterwards, I spent the rest of the evening more closely inspecting my new home, checking for potential damage or other abandoned trinkets. However, beyond an empty flour bag, my search didn’t turn up much.
It wasn’t long after that that I went back to the bed, fully dressed and using a folded coat as a pillow. Between the unfamiliarity of the place and the cold air, I found myself tossing and turning. Likewise, my mind kept darting around my thoughts, second-guessing everything that happened between now and nine days ago. I don’t think I actually closed my eyes until the early morning.
All in all, it was about what I expected from my first night in Tresety village.
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