Storgen looked out the window longingly. “I love her smile, Cornett. She has such a bright and gentle smile. I would love to see it again. No, I would do anything to see it. Do you know what it feels like, Cornett? To need someone so badly that you can’t bear to be apart from them? To look at someone and realize that you could never be complete without them?”
“No, I don’t suppose I have,” Cornett admitted.
“That is what Agaprei is to me. At least, that is what she should have been to me, but I ruined everything. I felt love, but I didn’t really understand it. I was naïve and selfish. I wanted her to love me in return, I tried to convince her to love me, and that was my mistake. Love isn’t an exchange. It’s not something you give expecting to get something in return. Love is something you give freely, without thought of reward. If you don’t love that way, it isn’t real.”
“And if she doesn’t want you to stand by her side?”
“Then I will stand and watch her from afar. I want to help her be happy, whatever that means. Whatever she needs, I want to be that for her. If she needs a loving husband, I will be that. If she would prefer a mere friend, I will be that instead, and if she desires only a loyal companion, or even just a distant protector, well then I would be that, too. All that matters is her smile.”
Storgen’s head snapped back to cough. Instinctively, he tried to cover his mouth with his right hand, but, as he no longer possessed a right hand, he instead coughed onto his chest.
“Here, let me get that,” Cornett offered, grabbing a towel to dab up the phlegm.
Storgen looked at himself in disgust. “At least, that is what I would have done, if I could still stand.”
Storgen stared sadly at the stump of his right arm. “How can I help her now, Cornett? I have nothing to offer her.”
“You have a strong mind, and a loyal heart. That is greater treasure than a thousand strong bodies.”
“At what price, though? She’s a healer. She takes care of the sick. It’s one of the things I love about her. If I go back to her she’d take care of me, and I’d be a burden to her. A worthless old stump she’d have to take care of, day in and day out, sacrificing her own dreams to keep me plodding along.”
“But that’s not fair to her. You just said that love is something you give. Who are you to deny her the chance to give to you? If taking care of you makes her happy, then shouldn’t that be enough for you?”
Storgen turned his head to look out at the tree on the patio. “You’re right, Cornett. I guess I still haven’t learned my lesson. I guess I’m still being selfish. Maybe it’s because I’m a man, or maybe it’s just because of who I am, but I want to protect her. It’s important to me, and now I can’t protect anyone. I can’t even walk.”
He tried to wiggle his toes, but there was nothing to wiggle now. It was the strangest sensation. He could still feel them burn, but they weren’t there.
“There’s a terrible reality I have to face here. Agaprei and Storgen may have been destined for one another, but Storgen is gone now. And this old cripple is all that’s left.”
“If that’s what you believe, then maybe you don’t understand yourself, either.”
“Maybe so. If I go back to her, I will feel awful for being a parasite. But if I don’t go back to her, I’ll forever be incomplete and alone.”
“Sounds like you need a third option.”
Storgen perked up. “Yes, that’s it exactly. I’m going to find her, and I’m going to help her, Cornett. I’m going to help her save her family from Fovos. I refuse to be a burden to her. Instead I’m going to be her champion.”
“But, you can’t even stand.”
Storgen frowned. “Yes, I know that, Cornett.”
“Sorry, I just meant, Fovos is an Elder God, How can you possibly challenge him?”
“Correction, he is an Elder God whose body and power have decayed over hundreds of years of imprisonment. And I just happen to have an ace in the hole.”
“How’s that?”
Storgen took his left hand and rubbed his neck, carefully teasing something higher and higher up inside his throat.
Storgen held out his hand and spit something into it.
Cornett drew near. “Is that…?”
They looked at the bright crimson gemstone in Storgen’s hand.
Storgen closed his fingers. “With this, I will save Agaprei, and her family.”
(423 years ago)
Two cyclopean sentries stood before the Forbidden Gate. An archway of stacked stars, a glassy nebula forming the portcullis. A tiny ant drifted past their feet, little more than a speck of dust. It squeezed itself through a paper-thin gap in the void-like doors, and slipped through.
Once inside, the ant reformed itself into the Goddess Desmas, who looked around furtively. Her hair was like trailing roots, her skin like pearly bark. She descended down through the staircase carved into the bone that surrounded her and entered a great hall. Green rivers of death ran down the bony walls like waterfalls made of molasses. Agonized faces dripped and moaned, clawing fingers scraped beneath the gooey floors. Every slick surface reflected ghastly images of death. Cowardly soldiers laying on blood-soaked ground, calling out to the cold stars with fading eyes. Terrified criminals straining against their binding ropes as flames ran up their bodies. Disbelieving adulterers holding up bloody hands to defend themselves from plunging daggers.
But it was the center of the room that disturbed Desmas the most. A dripping heart, still faintly beating, black ichor falling free like ghastly sweat. The heart of the Leviathan, the ancient beast from the void who had killed hundreds of gods before its final defeat. The dripping malice was directed into two channels, each one leading into a celestial cage, dark glowing bands all but completely obscuring the light that came from within.
Desmas approached the first cage and peeked inside. What she saw nearly broke her heart. Estia was thin and frail, her body emaciated. Her hairless head hung low, only the strength of her chains now held her up as the black tar dripped down on top of her.
Desmas leaned in as close as she dared. Even outside the cage, the vile essence of the Leviathan was sapping her strength from her. “My daughter, it pains me to see you like this.”
Estia barely stirred. Her voice was weak, sorrow permeated every syllable. “You should not be here, mother. You will earn Sirend’s wrath.”
“He will not know I am here. How could I not come to you?”
“I deserve this, mother. I betrayed my oath to Fovos.”
“An oath you were forced to take. You never loved Fovos, did you?”
It was a long time before she answered. “No, I did not.”
Desmas glanced over at the other cage. “But you do love Tharros, don’t you?”
Estia closed her weak eyes in shame. “Yes, I do.”
“Then that’s all I need to know.”
Desmas flew over to the other cage. Inside, the god Tharros hung from his bonds defiantly, his head held high even as his skeletal body wasted away. It would not be long now.
“Tharros, son of Nisi. Do you love my daughter?”
“You know I do. I love her more than I love my own existence.”
Desmas pulled her robes tightly round herself to stave off the cold. “Do you swear, swear that you will make her happy?”
“I will search the ends of the earth to find her, and when I do, every breath I take will be for her joy.”
She put her hand over her heart. “Once you are reborn as mortals, I am forbidden to interfere with your lives. Sirend made me sign a binding contract. But his contract says nothing about interfering before you are reborn.”
She removed her hand, and drew out from her chest a glowing sphere of celestial energy. It swirled like quicksilver, pulsating like a heartbeat. “I’ve been saving this. This is the last of my original power. I was planning on using this to remove the curse I placed on the forests of the world in order to convince my stupid brother to rescue Estia. Now, I wi
ll use it for you instead. I’m going to perform a miracle. Perhaps the last miracle I will ever do. I will show you a prophecy of what my daughter will look like as a mortal so that you may find her.”
She closed her fist and the room swirled with power. A great golden rend tore in the air as if it were made of fabric, and beyond Tharros could see an image of a young woman with beautiful lavender hair.
Desmas strained to maintain the miracle. “Plant this image deep in your heart, hold onto it to so tightly that it will endure through the veil of forgetfulness that will descend upon your mind when you are reborn.”
Tharros soaked in every detail, burning the image into his heart.
Desmas gasped in exhaustion and the miracle disintegrated, the image blowing away as if it were a sand sculpture in a strong wind.
The sound of doors opening made Desmas turn around in start.
“Find my daughter, and make her happy.”
Desmas became a small butterfly and fluttered away.
(Present Day)
The Godmother Mónos sat up in her bed with a start, scattering fur balls and sick animals as they slipped off the edge of her filthy sheets. In the weak torchlight, the floor of her temple crawled with mewing cats. The sound happened again, a banging on the iron doors to her temple. Mónos pulled her stained sheet over her head, hoping the sound would go away, but it happened again, more forcefully than before.
“Go away,” she whispered, pulling her black stringy hair over her face.
When the door banged again, she threw off her sheets and floated to the door. “Leave me alone or I’ll curse you!”
The voice that shouted back was muffled enough that she only made out a single word.
“…Agaprei…”
Mónos floated closer. “What?”
“… Agaprei Sonata, the knives of Fovos...”
The name made Mónos’ eyes grow wide. She threw open the door expectantly, but was shocked to find a pair of humans sitting on the saddle of a dragon.
“W-who are you?”
“My name is Storgen,” the man said, fighting to remain in the saddle. “I’m looking for Agaprei Sonata, and I need your help.”
Mónos frowned, feelings of shame and guilt returning. “She is no longer my champion.”
“She’s in danger.”
“What?”
“Fovos has betrayed her, taken her family as hostages.”
“Kaia?”
“She went after him to save them, but I don’t know where she went to. Please, if you know anything, please help me find her before it is too late.”
“I…I’m sorry. I’m not allowed to interfere.”
“She’ll die if we don’t help her,” Mov argued, yanking on the reins to steady her dragon.
Mónos looked around shiftily, as if she expected someone to be listening. “Where did they go?”
“The Sacred Orchard, but I don’t know where it is.”
Mónos looked like she might faint. “That can’t be.”
“What?”
“Only the elder gods know where the Sacred Orchard is located. Even I don’t know. How could Knives know?”
“I’m not sure, but she acted like she knew.”
“Unthinkable. That knowledge is forbidden by divine decree.”
“Could you find out where it is?”
“I shouldn’t even speak its name. It’s been taboo ever since Reinala caught Sirend cheating on her. I can’t defy it.”
Something nagged at the back of Storgen’s mind. “Wait, say that again.”
Mónos tilted her head. “Sirend cheated on Reinala with Nisi. That’s what started the war between the gods. He send Nisi gifts, he wrote her poetry. Reinala caught them both together in his own bedchamber.”
Storgen thought for a moment. “Were they talking or kissing?”
“What does that have to do with it?”
“Do you know?”
“Um…I dunno. I believe they were arguing when Reinala found them. What does it matter?”
Storgen’s eyes went wide. “That’s it.”
“It is?”
“Godmother Mónos, you are not bound to that divine decree.”
“I’m not? Why?”
“Because it was based on a lie.”
* * *
Nisi, Goddess of War and the Harvest, stood atop the battlements of a great steel warship. Behind her, a complete flotilla of missile boats, fire ships, and catapult platforms steamed in formation. The cannons before her fired, and the amazon triremes approaching them exploded into a storm of splinters. The gunnery crew let out a metallic cheer from within their alchemic cocoons.
“Proceed ahead at full speed,” she ordered. “I want us to make landing before dawn. The cover of night will ease our landings.”
“Aye, my Goddess,” the Forgemaster answered, plugging his mechanical hand into the socket on the command podium. The warship responded like a living thing, its furnace roaring within, green smoke escaping like foul breath, paddlewheels turning like clawed limbs.
Already she could see the subtle shifts in the water, the nuanced reflections in the waves, indicating that an island was directly ahead. Just a few more hours, and Themyskira would be in flame.
“And my oath to Krýo Fidi will be fulfilled,” she said aloud with satisfaction.
Suddenly, the deck began to shudder, and the bitter taste of metal filled the air.
“My goddess,” the forgemaster cried. “We’ve had an alchemic shift. Someone is forcing a gateway open!”
Nisi drew her sword just as the air above the deck tore open into a swirling portal. The Shield of Nisi sprang to action, stepping before his goddess and brandishing his spear and shield.
The portal bulged outwards, a green goo spilling out like a blob of jelly. It splatted onto the deck, the portal fizzing out behind it with a whimper.
Two forms squirmed within the green jelly, as guns swiveled and arms were loaded. From every direction, weapons were prepared to fire.
Suddenly, Storgen broke free of the goop, gasping for breath. “Oh my gosh! Were you trying to kill me?”
“I’m sorry,” Mónos coughed, spitting globs of green out of her mouth. “I’ve never done that before.”
Nisi was shocked when she saw them. “Hold your fire! Everyone stand down!”
The soldiers and sailors lowered their weapons in confusion. The alchemic gunners let out a shrill sound of disappointment.
“It’s you,” Nisi said, looking over Storgen, “The Fist of Ambera.”
As Storgen wiped his face off with his remaining hand, he leaned back, revealing the bandaged nubs below his knees.
When Nisi saw, she gasped audibly.
“Not anymore, I’m afraid,” Storgen said, flicking his hand clean. “I’m more of a freelance champion at the moment.”
Shield threw down his weapons. “My little friend!”
The massive minotaur scooped Storgen up and gave him a bear hug. “Is good to see you. You come for rematch, yes?”
“Not exactly,” Storgen grunted, his ribs straining.
Nisi seemed to shrink a little. “Do you…do you remember me?”
Storgen looked at her carefully, memories seeping into his consciousness. “Just little bits and pieces. I remember you told me you had no son.”
“I was hoping you wouldn’t.”
“And I recall you ordered Shield here to take my life.”
“Was favorite command I ever receive,” Shield boasted.
“I had no idea who you were,” Nisi explained fervently. “Ambera tried to trick me into killing you.”
“And she nearly succeeded,” Storgen added as Shield put him down. “It turns out I’m just as popular with you in this life as I was in the last.”
Nisi’s eyes became sad. “You have no idea how many times I wanted to see you. But, Sirend’s decree forbade me. I could be deposed just for speaking with you, even though you came to me.”
Storgen watched as she fi
dgeted with her hands, her martial self-control straining against what she wanted to say. What she wanted to feel.
Storgen reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder. “How about we start over, okay?”
Her sadness became mingled with hope. “I’d like that.”
“You’re lucky Sirend didn’t make you sign a contract like Desmas had to,” Mónos said, slicking her hair back out of her face. “If he had, you’d be in default already. That’s why we had to come to you instead of her. But after today, neither of you will have anything to fear. We are going to have it nullified.”
Nisi blinked. “How?”
Storgen smiled. “Because I can prove that you are innocent.”
* * *
Ouranos, God of philosophy, studied the ancient book in his hands carefully. The pages were made of living skin, the tome bound in living muscle. The book twitched and flexed in his divine grip. There were no marks upon the pages. Instead, the tiny blood vessels within the living pages formed words when lit from behind. The book glowed at his touch, recognizing its master. For he alone was allowed to read the knowledge within. In the hands of any other being, mortal or immortal, the pages would remain blank.
There was a knock at the door of his sanctum, and he became visibly irritated. “Yes.”
The door opened and a scribe stepped in, his eyes blinded so that he would see nothing within the sanctum. “My Lord, the council has appointed you as impartial arbiter over the divorce proceedings between Sirend and Reinala.”
“For the fifty-seventh time,” Ouranos grumbled. “That will be all.”
The door closed and the god settled down happily for a good, long read.
There was another knock at the door, and Ouranos sniffed. “Yes, what is it now?”
Another blind scribe stepped in. “My Lord, you asked to be informed when the battle of Froúrio began.”
“And?”
“It has begun.”
“Thank you. Good day.”
“Both sides are asking you to denounce your neutrality and join them.”
“I said good day.”
The door closed again, he pinched his long, aquiline nose. This time, it took several pages of reading before he began to feel comfortable again.
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