Goddess by Liv Savell (autobiographies to read txt) 📕

So Priest Arawn was one of the slow ones, unable to quite grasp what was going on. Instead of trying to change the man’s mind, Va'al just turned towards him and… opened it. “Do you know what just happened?” the Misfit God asked, clasping Arawn on the shoulder. “Do you know what I just did?”

Slowly, the man nodded, his eyes darkening in horror. Va'al loved that moment, loved it when the mortals realized that their innermost sanctum, the one place they thought they could not be reached, was no longer safe.

Va'al clapped him on the back. “Cheer up! We’ll be on our way as soon as we’ve brought Esha back to help us.”

“Bring her back?” Priestess Maya asked, startled enough that she forgot herself for a moment. Fear colored her features, and hastily she knelt, a clumsy maneuver given her size. Maoz hissed under his breath.

The priest was a moment behind the priestess, and then they were both prostrate on the floor before Va'al, Enyo, and Maoz.

❂

Something neglected in her mind cracked an eye. Enyo felt a wave of elation ripple through her despite the pain in her physical form. Fear, respect, adoration. Oh, how she had missed those things. Missed people bowing, people recognizing her precisely for who she was.

To be seen.

Stepping forward, the smirk was impossible to hide as she looked down on Esha’s sacred priests. Soft-handed, feeble-minded fools. Not warriors like her disciples. Not useful.

But it was a start.

“How can we aid you, great ones?” The Priestess Maya asked from her place on the floor. Enyo sighed. Great ones. Not many remembered the proper titles to due them.

Va'al’s eyes flicked to Enyo. “We will need Esha’s artifact, a human Vassal for her to use for the time being, and traveling provisions for four. Make sure there’s wine.”

The woman, still dazed from the effect of Va'al’s power, looked up in sudden inspiration. “It will be done, and I will be Esha’s Vassal. No lesser priestess will do for the Goddess herself.”

Lesser priestess?! Enyo bared her teeth. She had gotten a scrawny Ingolan healer as her Vassal and Esha would get some blooming, beautiful high priestess? Even if she was pregnant? Before she could argue, Maoz spoke.

“No. You will not.”

The two Esha followers glanced towards Maoz and then down, respectful. The hunter stepped forward and brought a hand to cup Priestess Maya’s chin, making her look up into his eyes.

Of course.

Enyo suppressed a groan. He’d not let a woman with child be put in harm's way. Even when she didn’t carry his seed. The protective sap.

Still, it served Enyo’s purpose. “You will do it,” she commanded the high priest, a pale smile revealing itself despite her pain. Priest Arawn nodded obediently, though, at the sight of her elongated canines, he hastily looked away. Enyo turned to Va'al, gaze mulish.

He rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “Don’t you think, Taouk, it would be better to have someone fit? Maybe a tad younger? It would be a shame if Mascen stopped us before we could get our bodies back all because Esha’s Vassal couldn’t keep up.”

While she was flattered by the use of her title in the old language, Enyo scowled. Of course, he would suggest someone younger, someone prettier for darling Esha.

“Priest,” she snapped. The man stood at her command. “Will you slow us down?”

“No-no Great One.”

As if that were enough proof for her, Enyo looked to Va'al. “He’s fit enough. He’s not got a huge belly, and while he isn’t as young as my body or yours, he’ll do. After all. He only has to last until we find a fifth.”

Maoz helped the priestess to her feet. She was less cowed by the Gods than her male counterpart, and she watched them all carefully. Maoz’s hand lay at the small of her back, possessive.

Perhaps it hadn’t mattered all those years ago, all those lovers he had. Was it less about his own bloodline and more about the sanctity of life? She shook her head. Whatever it was, it was annoying.

“Well?” Enyo demanded. “Are we going to waste time looking for the ‘best fit’ or are we going to proceed? Mascen will find us.” She shifted, wincing at the pain in her useless arm. “This body is failing me now.”

Va'al looked for a second like he would snap at her, but his expression went bland again. “I’m glad you’ve finally decided to hurry, but we ought to get your arm seen to before we go.”

He glanced over to the priests. “Add a healer to our list, and see that it gets done as quickly as possible.”

All that was left was to wait.

Chapter XVII

Tenth Moon, Waning Crescent: Gwynhafan

The pain in her arm was growing, more portions of black turning grey and heavy. Enyo drank the teas Esha’s priestesses offered her, and while they made the pain more like a dull stab instead of a sharp lance, she was still struggling to master the sensation. How did mortals survive with long-lasting injuries? She knew many walked around with something wrong within them for moons, even years.

Yet days after Mascen’s punishment, Enyo was flagging. She wouldn’t be able to withstand much more of this—not with this body.

Of course, if she could use this form’s magic, perhaps then things would be better. But since Alphonse had let her friends free on the slopes of Thlonandras, Enyo had stuffed the girl far, far away. Into the deepest, darkest corner of her mind. Locked up and hidden. Suppressed.

Another burst of heat radiated through her hand, and Enyo panted, looking down to see a tendril of black transforming into igneous rock. As the heat receded, Enyo closed her eyes. She wouldn’t last long enough to get to Ruyaa’s temple at this rate. She needed more.

Down down down, she drifted on warm breezes until landing on a grassy bed. Or at least it felt like it to her bare feet. All around her was darkness. Soft and comforting, embracing. Not the