Gerra was not always a goddess just as she was not always the mother of a man taller than she was by at least a head.
Gerra used to be a healer, and she was pretty happy with her life. She was one of many serving in the king’s army, nothing special about that.
She remembered her days in the army and smiled. This is where she met her husband Fou’ad. He was not the strongest nor the most handsome, but he had something magical about his smile.
Chris inherited that smile, if only he used it more often, the world would be a better place for it.
She recalled the day she gave birth to Chris. It was the best and worst day of her life as a human. It was the day she had her son and lost her husband.
Before her son was born, her life was simple. She only had to do her job and keep an eye on her adventurous husband. But then, he went after the rogue god, Kortasakh, and got himself killed.
For the first year of her son’s life, she managed to care for the child as well as make ends meet. But then, the king decided that some people were not a necessity for his army. All part-time workers were let go, including her.
Gerra had to do something to ensure that her son could survive, and she only knew how to heal wounds brought about by fighting, so she joined a band of adventurers.
It was ironic, she always berated her late husband for his line of work, then she just did the same. Little Chris was left into the care of a neighbor who declared that if Gerra didn’t come within the week, she will sell the boy.
But Gerra had to go with the adventurer band, they were her only hope to secure a living, so she agreed to the terms of her neighbor. After a week, her son would be sold to the slavers.
Gerra clicked her fingers and the past came alive in front of her eyes.
“We have been walking for two days.” Gerra from the past complained. “And it would take us the same to go back. I can’t go on for another day.”
“Healer, we will not turn back empty-handed.” The leader of the band was a gloomy redhead, a barbarian fighter from the lands in the north, and she wanted to make a name for herself something that past Gerra cared little for.
“But I might lose my son.” Gerra dragged her feet forward after the redhead.
“Then you shouldn’t have joined.” The mage of the group brushed her as he moved in circles around the group. According to him, he needed to place protections all the time on the group, as there was nothing like mobile protection.
“Don’t worry Gerra.” A young jovial lad patted her on the back. “I can almost taste the treasure.”
“Tarkan, you have said this for the last day.” The redhead grumbled. “I wish it was true, my sword arm is restless.”
“By my glorious ancestors, it is true.” Tarkan beat on his chest. “I am the best Sniffer in the land, and you will get to know that soon.”
Gerra the goddess laughed as she watched the past unfold in front of her eyes. Poor Tarkan, he was indeed the best Sniffer in the land, just not for gold.
“For your sake Sniffer, I wish that was true.” The mage went again on another circle around the advancing group. “I am too tired to keep this going for long.”
“Zartakh, surely you can sense the gold by now.” Tarkan jumped before the mage stepped on his foot.
“I sense nothing.” Zartakh panted. “I am too exhausted to cast anything. I can barely keep the protections alive.”
“Harshana.” Gerra ran after the redhead. “Release me from my bond to the band. Let me go back to my son.”
“And face whatever monster comes our way without a healer.” Harshana snorted. “I think I will have to deny your request. The bond remains over all of us until we hit gold.”
Gerra the goddess sighed. The bond still holds sway even after all those years, even after they all died. What a foolish thing to do, accept an everlasting bond. Even as a goddess, she can’t absolve it.
“But Harsha…” Before Gerra could plead another time to Harshana, the sky turned black, and small rocks and pebbles started to float in the air around the adventurers.
“Zartakh, what in the seven hells is that?” Harshana pulled her sword and braced her leather shield.
“Too much power.” Zartakh strained. “I… I… Can’t keep the protection.” Zartakh panted.
“Sniffer, where in the hell did you lead us to?” Harshana cried against the rising wind, a soft moan carried by the wind made hearing the others’ words near impossible.
Droplets of water swam lazily around the adventurers, seemingly appearing from nowhere.
“I can taste it.” Tarkan’s eyes went wild. “And it is overpowering. Too much gold.”
“Tarkan you fool.” Zartakh fell to his knees. “There is no gold, look around you.”
“But I can feel it all over my body.” Tarkan swooned. “It is here.”
Gerra knew what was here. She heard the stories from a hundred disabled soldiers. The moaning wind, the floating rocks and water droplets, and the darkened sky, all meant that her husband’s killer was here. The rogue god Kortasakh was about to kill them all.
“It’s.” Gerra swallowed the growing lump of terror in her throat. “It’s Kortasakh.”
Just as she finished her words the darkened sky parted, and on a beam of light, descended a giant, fifty feet tall at least, with legs made of oak trees, arms of burning steel, and a head the size of a house.
“WHO DARES CHALLENGE ME?” The giant bellowed. “IF DEATH IS WHAT YOU WISH, THEN YOUR WISH WILL BE FULFILLED SOON.”
Gerra was no fighter, she stood by the backlines of the army. Yet, she had her own way of fending for herself. She just doubted that she can help the band she was bound to in any possible way.
Tarkan screamed and started to claw at his eyes, falling to the ground under the god’s feet.
Zartakh pulled something from the satchel he carried around his waist and threw at the giant. “Run.” He cried to the others. “It will blind him only for a few seconds.”
Harshana kissed her sword, and hit it to her chest, it caught fire. “I will not leave my mate behind.” She pointed to Gerra. “Grab the Sniffer and run.”
Gerra knew that running will not serve her or the Sniffer. You can’t run from a god. “I will stay and I doubt the Sniffer can be moved.” She pointed to Tarkan who lay prostrated at the feet of the giant, foaming at the mouth. “He has been touched.”
Wait for part three, next week, till then check part 1: Broken Fighter, part 1 or check this story instead: All That Water, part 1, or this one: Merlin, The Eternal Wizard.
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