Goddess Liv Savell (best autobiographies to read .TXT) 📖

Was it a trick? Had they known she was there and played out the scene to make her more amenable to their cause? Or, had Meirin seen the fragility of the Gods that they hid behind masks of cruelty and power? Her mind said it was all a falsehood, but her heart paused. It seemed real.

What did it matter anyway? War Chief Tanwen had sent her to help retrieve Gethin if possible. This wasn’t her quest, her burden. How had she gotten caught up in this whole ordeal? She hadn’t asked for this. She hadn’t really sought it out.

After refilling her canteen, Meirin made her way back to their campsite. Delyth and the priest they called Esha were working out a plan to find the fifth Vassal. Maoz stood off to the side, monitoring. To avoid interacting with the Gods, Meirin scanned the clearing for Etienne and found him writing in his journal.

Impulsively Meirin let her hand rest against his shoulder, even going so far as to tug on a lock of his white hair. Overgrown and untidy as he repeatedly ran his hands through it. He looked like a porcupine. “What are you writing?”

Etienne looked up from his work, his eyes still unfocused, as though it was difficult for him to return from the world of his own thoughts. “I’m keeping a record, as accurate and unbiased as I can, in the hopes that I can learn something about Gods and magic. If we survive this mess.”

Despite herself, Meirin smiled. Of course, he was keeping a record. “Am I in the record? What do you say about me?” She leaned closer as if to inspect the pages. His handwriting was precise, but she couldn’t read it anyway. She didn’t understand Ingolan.

“Only nice things, I promise.” He stretched, and in the wan light of early morning, she could see shadows beneath his eyes.

“Oh, so you’re writing lies then?” Meirin teased, hunkering down to squat beside him. Despite herself, Meirin felt her gaze turning back towards the Gods. And Delyth. She looked haggard.

He mimed insult. “This is an unbiased account, remember?”

“Of course. I apologize.” She smiled and shook her head. Esha nodded, and Delyth’s lips compressed into an even thinner line. They must have come to some sort of agreement. Meirin sighed. “I want to ask you something, as a scholar and a mage, not Etienne who knows Enyo and Va’al.”

“Alright. What is it?”

“I know they are monstrous, but…” Enyo and Va’al stood off to the side, once more tall and proud. None of the defeated weeping or sweet consolations. Their masks were back on, or the act dropped. She didn’t know. “Do you think they feel the way we feel? Can they experience fear, or remorse, or… love?” Dark eyes flickered to Etienne’s face then, ready to catch any change of emotion there.

✶

“Nothing that we have encountered so far suggests that the Gods lack a full range of human emotion. If anything, they may feel more, though I have noticed that they seem to have little grasp of guilt or consequence. Perhaps it’s a side effect of immortality?”

Etienne stretched and rolled his aching neck, catching sight of Meirin’s face. She looked thoughtful, even soft. Had she seen some facet of Va’al or Enyo that made her empathize with them? He supposed it was possible. They might have even shown her something of the sort purposefully. They were, after all, masters of manipulation.

“Has anyone ever been cruel to you? Back home?”

“Yes, though that was a long time ago.”

“Yes, well,they likely felt all the things humans usually feel too. What you feel matters less than how you act.”

He glanced to Delyth, who had moved away from Esha to begin tearing down her tent. They would set out soon. Meirin still crouched beside him, her brow furrowed, so he stood and offered her his hand. “What are you thinking?”

With a blink, Meirin turned to focus on Etienne’s hand but hesitated before slipping hers into it. “I think things are more complicated than I ever imagined. I think I’m a clan girl out of her depth.” As he hauled her to her feet, Meirin held onto his hand for a heartbeat longer. “I think I’m lucky to have made you as a friend.”

“Me too. At least this way, we can be out of our depth together.”

Etienne moved to take down his tent, thoughts still on the warmth of Meirin’s hand, and the winged warrior stood between him and Meirin to speak. “We’re headed east, to find a Vassal in one of the small settlements that lie along this branch of the Afonneidr. I’m going to spend the day in the air so that Mascen will be unable to catch us by surprise, should he find us. If anything happens, shout or light a fire rune, and I will come. I won’t be far.”

She would come to protect them from the Gods, she meant. As though it was a possibility that they would be in danger even after the oath. Well, Etienne supposed she had every right to be cautious.

Behind her, Enyo and Va’al stepped closer, and Delyth took off before either could speak, showering the clearing with dust stirred up by great, black wings.

⥣          ⥣           ⥣

Running seemed the fastest way to travel, and yet only after an hour, they slowed to a walk again.  This was the third morning with the Gods and the third time Enyo had failed to keep pace. Meirin watched her and Va’al closely because she didn’t trust them, or so she told herself. Now that she suspected what they shared was real, the warrior was unable to look away, fascinated with the strange dynamic they fostered. It was Va’al who had called for them to slow, jogging beside Enyo, who had incrementally decreased in speed. The black of the stone arm spread as Meirin watched, veins slithering over