A Real Goddess Would Let Nobody Die

Suri had spent her entire life wishing she was as much of a goddess as all the sycophants claimed. A real goddess could stroll up to whatever 'divine lineage's' territory she pleased, declare that they were now relieved of authority, turn the place over to the non-mages they had terrorized, and no one would be able to do a thing to stop her.

Like the White Goddess had.

Suri had thought that she had already been stabbed by the worst possible daggers of shame. Avoiding suspicion required some truly despicable performances.

Oh, yes, cupbearer with downcast eyes and a broken will, I would like another while we laugh about how your daughter was just sold off. Now, off to the corner with you, filthy creature. Can't you see I am being flattered over here? Me, the goddess of goddesses!

Ah, of course, it is important to maintain discipline. You wouldn't want your worshippers thinking it's alright to make eye contact with you! Oh, just imagine! Yes, best to make an example and put out their eyes.

And then Suri the Impotent had seen the White Goddess' life story. The comparison had not been favorable, to say the least.

Suri had been born on a world with a slavery problem. The White Goddess' homeland had been depopulated when She was five, and half the world by the time She was twenty.

Suri had been born as Heiress of one of the wealthiest and most powerful families in her world. The White Goddess had been born in an unremarkable rural village, in rustic not-quite-poverty turned wartime famine, and orphaned at five.

Suri worried constantly about whether her family would attract too much suspicion, and need to fight for its survival. The White Goddess, born weaker than her, had earned Her worship on the front lines of a war of extermination, as a teenager, becoming such an icon of hope to those who placed their faith in Her that She was the Goddess of it.

Upon learning about the state of Her world, the White Goddess had decided that it was not acceptable to Her, and set out to reform it to suit Her preferences. Since Her plan required Her to resurrect another Goddess, She had just gone and done that. Oh, but first, as a side quest, She'd resolved a slave problem in like three hours after announcing Her plan to Her enemies, daring them to do anything about it, then ridiculing their futile attempt. Finally, to wrap things up, She had descended to the abyssal lair of Her ultimate nemesis, with Her resurrected Sister in tow, and won a total victory that took about a day because it takes time to traverse that many stairs. A civilization on the brink of collapse, to a world of blessings, in a little over one month, because when a real Goddess disagrees with reality, reality corrects itself.

Suri was not a real goddess.

Her admiration of the White Goddess had ignited into an idolization so fervent that it was making her nauseous. She was everything that Suri was not.

And now, Suri was looking through Her eyes, connected to Her mind via the Red Goddess.

Before she had time to take anything in, the White Goddess said, "Unreasonable standards are dangerous."

Maybe, but, <There is no unreasonable standard for You.>

She looked down at the ground, and let out a single humorless snort.

"You share a bad habit of Mine, which I have never fully unlearned. I will tell you what makes Me feel ashamed, if I hold Myself to an unreasonable standard, if I ignore successes while dwelling on failures."

What? What could this Goddess of Goddesses possibly have to be ash--.

"One hundred million people were exterminated." Her voice lacked its normal melodious quality. "I failed every single one of them, including My Own parents. My mother died in front of Me. I had the power to heal her, and did not use it. I had the power to prevent her from being hurt in the first place, and instead I cowered and watched. My mother gave birth to the Goddess of Salvation, named Her, raised Her, loved Her, and what did she receive in return? Her illustrious Daughter crying and panicking over her uselessly as she died, worse than uselessly, forcing her to tell lies with all of her final breaths. Even after learning how to use white magic, I allowed people to suffer and die many times, because I lacked the strength to help everyone who needed Me. After every failure, I was praised--'prodigy,' 'goddess'--because the people I had failed weren't alive to blame Me. And before you bring up all the people I've helped, as if that absolves Me of those hundred million failures, ask yourself: Does that make any difference at all to the dead?"

Suri only swallowed.

"You think yourself inferior to Me because you were born into privilege, while I was an impoverished orphan? I was orphaned for less than a week before being adopted into the most ancient lineage of mages in the world, and among the wealthiest. I may not have been born into privilege, but I ended up there. My father and Sister treasured Me, gave Me everything I asked for, even the things I was too shy to ask for, and what did I do in return? I withdrew My protection from them, threw them away so I could live. Izena's body is gone forever because Menelyn, Goddess of Triage, couldn't help Her. My father got the same help from Me that My mother did."

"Menelyn--"

"I'm making a point, Izena. I'm fine."

The White Goddess paused before continuing. Suri's view through Her eyes grew blurry.

"And then, worst of all, I abandoned everyone who depended on Me. For 943 years, the world suffered and declined and despaired and reached the brink of collapse, on My watch. If you would give Me credit for saving and Renewing it, then remember to blame Me for allowing it to reach that state. People who deified Me cried out for My aid, for 943 years, but I was too deep in a pool of My Own shame to hear them. I sat on an island, blaming Myself, torturing Myself, and did absolutely nothing for anyone. For 943 years, the Goddess of Salvation was a massive hypocrite. I helped no one. How many generations lived and died in slavery in Ezenta? How many millions of people? Where was My 'infallible compassion' for them?"

She let that hang, then asked, "Why does no one blame Me for any of this? Have they forgotten? Are they not aware?"

She wiped Her eyes and stared at the Sacred Mantle, then returned to Her normal speech pattern.

"Do you see how toxic this thinking pattern is? Everyone knows that I could not save everyone, and I saved those I could. Everyone knows that I withdrew from the world because I was grieving, and I had given all I could give for a while. No one ever blamed Me for any of it, because it would be an unreasonable standard, even for a Goddess. I did not kill those people. I did not enslave them. I failed to help many, but helped many others, most of whom were beyond help for anyone but Me. I had no obligation to help any of them, except for the obligation that I imposed upon Myself. The people of Rokesha taught Me this, and Izena."

"I was so close to slapping Us," the Black Goddess muttered.

Suri wasn't sure if it was White hugging Black, or Black hugging White, but One self-hugged the Other.

"Without you and Zyriko, would there be any hope for your world, in your lifetimes?" the White Goddess asked, after releasing the hug.

...No.

"The difference between what you are now and what I was at your age is not that you are defective, while I was the genuine article. You face a world united against you, while I had help, allies. I don't just mean Izena, and Our father. Remember those impressive amulets? My father and Sister died, and I abandoned the world, but thankfully there were red and blue mages who still fought for it. They saved it, as much as We did. Non-mages equipped by them held the line while I spent 943 years getting over Myself."

"While You gathered the power necessary to do what needed to be done," the Violet Goddess added.

"Thank You!" the Black Goddess exclaimed. "At least one of You gets it. Come on, Izenakee."

The Red Goddess smiled knowingly. "Menelyn said exactly what needed to be said, and She was Who needed to say it. She's fine. I would have stopped Her, otherwise."

If the White Goddess' intent had been to make Suri stop idolizing Her, it had backfired. But, she did understand the point about imperfection not being the same as failure. This was the second time that one of these Goddesses had spoken to Suri for a few minutes and shattered an insecurity.

"Now," the White Goddess resumed, "We need to check if you will actually be able to copy this thing. If you think you can, We will talk about the details, but there's no point in bothering if it won't actually work. What do you need Me to do?"

Right, time to try to copy Holy Regalia. No big deal. Calm. Placid. Focussed.

<The Sacred Mantle of-->

"Please spare Me, if you can," the White Goddess pleaded. "It's My tunic. I sweat into this thing for millennia. Imagine if everyone started calling your armor the 'Empyreal Lamina' or something."

...Suri could only dream, but if She insisted...

<The White Tunic-->

"That will do," She sighed in relief.

<The White Tunic is too complex for my replication spell to work out the pattern all at once. I will need to break it down into stages, but I lack the expertise to know what the relevant stages are.>

The White Goddess was nodding.

"I do know what You mean," She confirmed. "It is much easier to resurrect a person one set of tissues at a time, than all at once. But, someone without medical expertise would still need a guide to know which tissues are which, and the best order, how everything is connected--I get it."

Well, comparing what Suri would be doing to resurrection felt a little grandiose, but...Hmm. She was replicating Holy Regalia. Maybe it wasn't grandiose.

<So, if You could walk me through its...it is not really an enchantment. I do not know what to call it. I said 'Divine Aura' before. Maybe 'imbued effect?'>

The White Goddess was silent for a while.

"It is true that this does not work the same way as standard enchantments. It is not an item constructed by blue magic such that it casts a desired spell when a non-mage links to it. The item existed, then was...changed." She sighed. "Let's call it what it is. My tunic was continuously exposed to the magic of a Goddess at close range for millennia, so it contains an Echo of a Goddess' Aura. Izenakee's, too."

"If I wore a single outfit for a few thousand years starting around now," the Violet Goddess interjected, "I wonder if it would get floaty?"

Floaty, transparent, beautiful, and...Suri didn't know what hyper clothing would be like, but the Violet Goddess' clothing would find a way.

Actually, on second thought, Her sparkling gloves, tights, and sleeveless dress combo was so...fabulously flashy, that it had already achieved that effect without magic. It was not possible to wear that and be timid. Bursting bubbliness, winks and spins, or take it off.

"It would probably make the wearer floaty, and give them limited foresight," the Red Goddess suggested. "Maybe also slowed perception of time. Looking at My Own tunic's aura, I think it gives its wearer a version of My passive thought and emotion perception, but since only I have worn it, I can't be certain."

The Violet Goddess started bouncing on the balls of Her feet again, fists clenched in front of Her.

"Why did You never tell Me?! Can I try?!" She was breathless.

"Sure. I am curious. I'll turn around while You change."

<Thanks,> Zyriko said.

"Take Me inside with You, Kennalaria," the White Goddess said. "I'll get Suri a better view."