A Real Goddess Would Let Nobody Die

Genton was running as fast as he ever had, in all his 9 years living at his family's orchard, just outside the village. His legs were already strained many times over and his lungs were burning, but Mama had given him a job, and he meant to do it. She had made him promise not to stop running until he got there, no matter what.

The men chasing him knew where he was headed, and knew they needed to stop him. They knew that the Goddesses would condemn them, if They knew what they had done. They knew what Genton planned to do. They knew what happened to people who were condemned.

A few years ago, at the celebration of the 88th year since Their Return, some of the Goddesses' Helpers had brought a statue to Genton's village. The visit had been so unusual that Genton still remembered it as clearly as if it had happened this afternoon, even though he'd been a young boy.

"If you touch this statue and wish with all your might for Justice and Salvation, then one of Their Helpers will hear, and tell Them," a man in black and white robes had instructed. "The Sisters will come as soon as They can. The Goddesses make only two requests. First, abide by Their Creed, help those who need help and punish those who lack compassion and bring harm. Second, only call when the need is dire, since needing to recharge the statues places a burden on Their Helpers, and since They can only be in one place at a time. Every village this size and larger now has a similar item, and They can't answer every call if They are used lightly. May you all know Justice and Salvation."

Genton wasn't sure, but he thought that his entire village being rounded up, everyone killed, and everything stolen, would qualify. Mama had thought so.

Genton knew where his village had put the statue, in a small wooden container placed next to the well. The men chasing him did not, but knew he must be headed to it. Where else could he go? Where else could he get help, help of the kind that was needed?

He reached the statue's box, opened it frantically, and grabbed the figure inside. He did as the man had instructed. Soon, a woman's voice spoke directly into his mind.

"I am red mage Izenakee. Pardon me, but I must access your thoughts to know the reason for your--"

Genton had a spear in him now, like the rest of his village. As the world faded to black, Genton felt that he must have done his job, because the woman who had spoken in his mind had used the Language of the Goddesses, which the village elders had insisted all children should learn. She must have been the Helper who could hear him. The Goddesses would know. His village would be saved. Justice would find the men who had done this.

Genton was glad that he had been diligent in learning the Language.

He hoped Mama would be proud of him.

As soon as the world faded, it suddenly became daytime. Not only did Genton feel alive, but his legs didn't hurt anymore. Nothing hurt anymore, and he was the most rested and energetic that he'd ever felt. He looked around in confusion, trying to figure out what could have happened.

He was in the same place, but--

Genton remembered. He'd been stabbed! He hurried to check the wound, patting it with his hands, but there was nothing at all, not even a hole in his clothing. What? Nothing hurt, he didn't have a spear in him, no wounds or pains, it was day, and--

Then he saw Her. The woman from the statue, as if it had come to life, grown five times larger, and started glowing. She was crouched over him, smiling.

She was only a head taller than Genton was, long straight silver hair stretching to the small of Her back except for a few strands hanging over Her shoulders, and eyes that had a hint of icy blue.

That alone would be enough to make him gasp and stare had he seen Her, but those were Her least unusual features. She was also glowing as brightly as the Sun, yet it didn't hurt to look at Her. She had black sparks running over Her everywhere, and was wearing jewelry and clothing that looked like it had been made from a mix of sunlight-made-stone and the blackness of the night sky between the stars. She looked somehow like a painting, like She had started as an outline and then been filled in. Was the world reluctant to touch Her?

Genton had never seen anyone this...beautiful...before, this...he didn't know the word for what he was seeing. Amazing? It didn't feel quite right. He needed a word that meant that, but also not from the same world as him, as anyone. She looked so impossibly healthy and clean, like the diseases and dirt of this world were too bashful to affect Her.

He couldn't speak. He'd heard descriptions of what the Goddesses looked like, of course, and obviously he'd seen the statue of Her. It was still right next to him. All of that had been accurate enough that, combined with the context, he knew Who he was looking at, but none of it captured the reality. Not even close. How could anything capture this? What from this world could be made to look like That? How could you know what the words meant if you had never seen anything remotely like what the words described?

It was too much. Tears started falling.

"We know," She said. "Let it out. My name is Menelyn. Izena is also here; She's listening for now."

That made it worse. Her voice sounded like birdsong with words in it, and Genton wasn't crying because he was sad or scared or worried. He was sad about his village, but that didn't cause these tears. He knew it was all going to be better soon. The Goddesses had misunderstood.

He felt a strong impulse to look away.

She stroked his head with one hand and ran the fingers of Her other along his chest until he was done crying, and was able to look at Her again.

"Can you take Me to the others?" She asked.

Genton nodded, glad for the excuse to look at something else, but he still peeked back at Her as he led the way. This was the right amount of looking.

As he watched Her resurrect his entire village over the next few hours, Genton made two promises to himself.

He would follow Her Creed to the letter. He would memorize every word of the whole thing and repeat it every night.

He would become skilled enough at something to be a useful Helper. He couldn't do magic, he knew that since magic items worked for him, but there were other things he could do. Like, well, using magic items.

When She was done, She spoke to the village. They all looked like Genton had felt. Still felt.

"Does anyone know who did this?" The cadence of Her voice was different now. "Can you tell Us which direction they might be in? A description of them? What they took?"

Genton didn't listen to the next part of the conversation, but the village elders spoke with Her for a time. An hour later, he heard distant thunder, from a sky with only stars in it. A short while later, and the Goddesses returned. They spoke to the elders again.

Genton decided that he would work hard so he could earn a spot in the Trusted Guard. If anyone ever hurt Her, he wouldn't be able to bear it. What if he had been able to stop it? Old Manaron from a few leagues away had been a member when he was younger. Manaron could train him, tell him what he needed to do. Maybe Manaron would even make Genton Vetted.

He hoped Mama and Papa would be able to understand why he wouldn't be able to take over the orchard.