Goddess by Liv Savell (autobiographies to read txt) 📕

“Rain will only make you wetter, my son,” she commented, biting back the irritation that sprung up at the element’s wavering loyalty. Mascen, realizing that his mother was indeed right, sighed, and the sun reemerged. 

Enyo traced the tips of her nails over Mascen’s sharp-featured face affectionately. Even with fat cheeks and a pouty mouth, she could see where his bones would elongate and tighten. He would be acutely handsome, her son. 

The only child.

“Where is Father?” he asked, wrapping his tiny arms about her neck and nuzzling close. It made her heart glow. Even as her thoughts drifted to Va'al. Annoyed or bored, he had flitted off again. He wouldn’t, couldn’t stay gone for long—Mascen needed too much supervision. 

“Off,” she replied blandly, scooping Mascen up in her arms and hauling him to sit on her hip. Likely with Esha. Fertility had been most impressed with Enyo and Va'al’s child, more so than the others. Since then, she had tried and tried to create her own. 

Pride flickered through Enyo as she carried Mascen back towards the stone temple nestled between two mountain valleys that was their home. No one else had been able to replicate what she and Va'al had achieved in Mascen. Not even the Goddess who gave all mortals and the land rejuvenation and birth. 

“When will he return?” Mascen wanted to know, his voice ponderous. He knew, even as such a small child, that it was not good to pester Enyo about Va'al’s movements for too long. She’d grow irritated quickly. 

“Soon,” Enyo promised, brushing her free hand over his hair, flattening and making it lay against his skull rather than stick up all over the place. 

“Does he miss me when he is gone?” Mascen asked, dark eyes wide as he stared at Enyo’s face. Reading her. He understood emotions far better than she did at times. Another gift from Va'al. 

“Why would he not?” Enyo reasoned, ignoring the priests and priestesses who bowed as she passed. It seemed her question stumped Mascen, and he quieted as they entered the temple proper.  By the time she reached the set of rooms they used when visiting the temple, Enyo was able to lay a sleeping Mascen down on his cot lined with furs. She arranged his limbs carefully and brushed away stray locks of red hair. 

Finally, she wrapped him in a pelt and kissed the top of his head, inhaling the scent that was distinctly and utterly his. She would know it for the rest of time. There was nothing more soothing than the smell of her sleeping child. The First Child. Her son. 

“Enyo… Enyo?”

The Goddess whipped her head around, focusing her gaze on Va’al, on today’s Va’al, trapped in the body of a mortal man. She had been so engrossed in the memories of earlier times, she had not noticed him calling her name. He beckoned ahead.

“We’re here.”

They stood before the archway of a great, stone wall, creamy limestone blocks fitted together as closely as interlocking fingers. Beyond, many of the buildings were comprised of the same stone with wood doors or window frames painted in bright blues to honor Esha.

“The city has grown,” Enyo muttered, annoyed to see how well Esha’s followers had thrived. Everywhere she looked, there were people—healthy, smiling, talking people. Most were of darker tones like Esha, but plenty had the island’s coppery notes or the fairer ones of the far north. Children were always underfoot, and it seemed as if every woman she spotted was huge with child.

With her injured hand wrapped in bandages to keep it hidden from sight, Enyo strolled alongside Va'al, ignoring Maoz’s brooding silence at their back. He would not be sated until he had blood. She knew the beast well enough to know that much. When he was in a rage, there was nothing to be done besides unleashing him on his foe. Of course, a rut wouldn’t hurt his mood, but he didn’t seem interested in sniffing at these females. Strange.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. A Goddess who teaches her people to fuck constantly would have a large following. It's nearly clever. Her disciples would grow as they procreated.“ She cast Va'al a narrowed glance. Had it actually been his idea? It seemed more like him to plan like that.

“Don’t look at me.” Va'al turned away from Enyo and back to the swath of people around him. “She loved adoration just as much as you did—do.”

The Misfit God led them through the streets with the ease of long practice, for all that they had changed tremendously since the old days. The temple itself still stood in the center of the city, high above the squat buildings of homes and shops, its windows filled with colored glass depicting scenes from when the world was new. “So, how do you suppose we get them to show us the artifact?” he asked as they neared the structure.

“Simple. Prove you’re a God and tell them we intend to bring Esha back. Clearly, they love her and would rejoice at her return,” Enyo drawled, her mood foul as they stared up the steps of Esha’s temple. It was not only fully intact but well maintained—not like Va’al’s ruin or Enyo’s decaying monument. Perfect. The building was perfect. Every tile on the roof in place, the walls straight and proud. Bile rose in her throat, and Enyo had the disgusting experience of swallowing it back down. It tasted acrid and reeked of her own desperation.

She needed Esha and Ruyaa to come back so she could get her body back, to survive. To deal with Mascen. Yet her jealousy knew no bounds as she saw how Esha’s followers thrived and remembered her. This was not some forgotten village or a scattering of temples, but an entire city! And it was thriving.

“Then let’s go,” Moaz growled behind them.

⚀

“Works for me.” Va'al shrugged and led the way into the temple. At first, it wasn’t clear which of the attendants they should speak to—there were just too many of