Goddess Rising

The man holding the bowl of water took it up to Achi, allowing the prince to wash his hands and dry them on a white towel placed beside the bowl. Flutes filled the air with a tune that made Aria’s stomach churn. It was so out of sync with the turmoil inside her that she desperately wanted to turn around and tell the musician to stop.

Next, the woman bearing the cup walked up to the prince and placed the cup before him. Lastly, Aria stepped up. She took the pitcher from the tray with one hand, and with the other held the tray to her side, just as she had been trained. Then, she leaned over to fill Achi’s cup, tripped, and spilled the wine over him.

She did it properly, drenching his hair, face, and clothes so thoroughly that he would be finding wine in his ears afterward. Then, she stumbled back, as if in shock, dropped to her knees, and put the pitcher on the ground beside her.

At the next table, Garo rose in fury, his face comical in its shock. “You insolent wretch!”

He made a gesture, and warriors left their place by the exits, their eyes fixed on her. Aria let her own eyes go wide as she scrambled to her feet, acting the terrified servant with all her might. Thankfully, her vision proved true, and Achi stopped the coming warriors with a gesture.

“Garo,” he said. “It is one thing to train your servants poorly, but another to try to punish them for it. If you are a poor host, admit it and contemplate your shortcomings. Really, you plan to kill this girl now and ruin my appetite?”

The scolding doubled Garo’s fury. “Achi, that was not an accident. That was deliberate. I do not know what plan -”

Achi waved a hand, rising to his feet. “Save your excuses. You,” he addressed Aria. “Lead me somewhere private.”

The other deities watched them leave in silence. Aria walked quickly, terrified that someone would ruin her plan, and only breathed in relief when they were out of the hall. As directed, she led Achi far from the feast and into a section of the palace with unused bedrooms. The room she chose was poorly lit - even by Garo’s standards. She shut the door behind Achi, peeking first to verify that there were no eavesdroppers.

Then, fell to her knees, letting her desperation rise to the surface, and fixing him with pleading eyes. “Save me.”

Instead, Achi took off his wine-soaked shirt and tossed it aside. Immediately, a new but identical shirt appeared on his body. He replaced his trousers as well, thankfully without the intervening nakedness, and then dried his hair and face with a simple shake of his head.

The room had a mirror, and he used it to inspect his now-clean self.

Finally, just before she lost her composure, he turned back to her, looking surprisingly worn out.

“How much of it did you see?” He asked.

“I lost count.”

He nodded. “And, what did you learn?” He asked.

She considered that. “That I should have chosen Evera.”

Achi broke into laughter, though he seemed more tired than amused. “Well, her afterlife is marginally better but the bar was low to begin with.”

Aria struggled to believe that. “Will you help me?” she asked.

He took a seat on a centrally placed couch. “As you saw, my assistance is limited. I can get you out of here and protect your parents, but everything afterward will depend on you.”

“The path I saw,” she said, “it worked.” He tilted his head, listening intently as she continued. “I lived. And no one had to go to that place ever again.”

A skeptical smile appeared on Achi’s face. “Tell me about this path.”

She rose from her kneeling position and prepared to convince him of its rightness. “You help me get out of here and help me become a goddess. You still die - I couldn’t find a path where that didn’t happen - but when I’m strong enough, I defeat Garo.”

Achi waited for more than that, but there was no more. When he realized that, he buried his face in his hands and began a haunting hysterical laughter.

“What is it?” Aria asked, insulted and confused.

He continued laughing for a while. Finally, he stopped, but the smile remained on his face. He gave a glance at the door and sighed. “I have to return to the feast. Look, Aria, not every path that thing shows you is likely. They are all possible - that’s why it shows them - but effecting them is a different matter.”

“That makes no sense,” Aria said. “I saw it. All you have to do - “

“All we have to do is follow the prescribed steps and everything will happen the way you saw?”

“Yes.”

“Wrong. Because we are not the only people in the world. And those people are not acting based on our script. When we act with knowledge of the future, their reactions change. Worse, that pathfinder is based on the actions we take when we do not know the future. Its predictions have no sway unless you and I both lose our memories. That is why my father is not carving the world as he wishes using its predictions.”

“But -”

“This is why I told you it was dangerous. It tricks people into believing that they have more control than they do. Look, imagine that you stole your friend’s puppy, and you decided to apologize. You could give an apology so good that he would forgive you and remain friends with you. But, imagine that you used the pathfinder to find that perfect apology. When you try to deliver it, you will do so with a measure of manipulation. You will not be apologizing because you are sorry - not entirely - you would be apologizing because you know that those words will give you back your friend. If he is smart enough, he will pick up on the lack of sincerity, and he will not forgive you. So, the pathfinder will tell you that a path works, but your actual experience will differ.”

“But we can -”

“You want to say that we can find workarounds. Perhaps leave notes to ourselves before erasing our memory. Or entrust the information to a trusted guide. Or simply rearrange certain events before wiping our memories. But none of those things will work. They make changes to the gameboard, so to speak, and render every one of the pathfinder’s predictions obsolete. I gave you that ring so you could see what you have walked into, not so that you can plan a response.”

“We can try,” Aria said. “It was the best I found. So, what else am I to do? Just give in?”

He shook his head. “I told you, you can’t avoid dying. Everyone dies. But you can avoid beings stuck in Garo’s cages.”

“And do what, instead? You said Evera’s was not much better.”

“Those are not the only options, and you need to focus less on a deity than on yourself. Did you not wonder why you ended up in his afterlife? It is not something that he controls.”

Aria had not spent much time on that because she was more interested in avoiding death than making it pleasant.

Achi glanced at the door again, seeming hurried. “Look, he said, “forget becoming a goddess. That will not happen. But you can leverage what you know into a change of destination. You keep ending up in Garo’s afterlife because you are so much like him. Don’t look insulted. You know that it’s true. You both have a capacity for violence and the ability to deploy it when it achieves your aims. You have the propensity for choosing it over more collaborative options, and the cunning to predict how it will affect the world. You are also brilliant strategists, bold enough to take any action you have to, but wise enough to retreat when necessary. Unforgiving. Capable of putting your revenge aside when it benefits you, but never losing sight of the goal. You are Garo minus a lot of power and a general enjoyment for violence. That is the other reason I won’t help you achieve deity. You might have found the unlikely path that ends happily, but the most likely result is that you will become something like him. That would not be good for you or for the world.

“But you have time. Use it to become something else, become something better, and you won’t end up with Garo.” He headed for the door. “I have to go now.”

Aria blocked his path.