Page 77

“It can’t.”

Chapter 24

A Fool No More

The Incomplete

There was something I was missing. As I followed behind Mishmaer and the not-goddess, this singularity consumed me. I had never been good with authority, even when I was younger, but why was I just obediently listening to them now?

So I stopped, my feet frozen place. Mishmaer was the first to notice, stopping and turning back to me.

“Is there something wrong Elder?”

I took a deep breath, calming the inner workings of my body. “Where are we going?”

“The Underworld,” the not-goddess responded.

“Yes,” I said. “But you never told me why.”

She examined me like I was some explosive about to go off. “Why what?”

“Why are we here? Why should I trust you? Why would you want to help us? Why—”

She held up a hand, glancing at Mishmaer and then back to me. “Those are all different flavors of the same question, but before I answer, riddle me this: what will you offer me in exchange for the answer you seek?”

I racked my mind, piecing together the previous unintelligible conversation the not-goddess had with Mishmaer along with every cryptic thing the creepy little fucker had told me regarding Gods and things beyond mortal comprehension. Like the textbooks I used to memorize after the first read through at the Academy, my mind pulled out the files of each and every word which was said.

When the answer—which had been staring me right in the face—revealed itself to me, I threw back my head in laughter.

“Elder, are you alright?” Mishmaer asked, eying me like a madman.

I immediately cut off the uncharacteristic sound emitting out of me. “I’m perfectly fine. I just find it so terribly amusing.”

“And what do you find so funny?” Mishmaer asked.

“What a complete and utter idiot I’ve been. Really, it must be these new emotions. I’ve not been myself lately, but it’s time that we return some rationality to the current equation.”

Mishmaer examined me as if he was seeing me for the first time, but it was the not-goddess who spoke. “Does this mean you have something to offer me for your question?”

“Yeah, I do.” I approached her. It was ridiculous how even for a moment I had mistaken this thing for my beloved. There was nothing remotely similar about them when you really examined them. “If you help me, it’ll piss off that bored deity who always thinks everything will go according to his will.”

A flash of interest and then apathy crossed her face. “And why exactly would I be interested in that?”

“Haven’t you ever heard of the element of surprise?” When neither stopped me, I continued. “Until this point, while I have somewhat resisted what that deity has compelled of me, in the end I’ve followed his will. If you help me, this would be sure to produce interesting results.”

“And why should I help you defy the will of a God?” she asked.

“You are not a goddess,” I said, “and helping me is not an offense to all Gods, just one in particular.”

“We were born in a country known as Egypt and we thought to protect it from a distance, but when we did, foreign invaders known as Greeks and Romans stole the imagery of the Gods to oppress the people of our land, so we left and we came to a new planet, swearing never to make the same mistakes again.”

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked.

“Although I may not be a goddess, the memories of those awful days are ingrained within me. If I were to help you in the way you envision, how would that not be a betrayal of those feelings?”

I placed a hand over my heart, a melody resounding in my ears which calmed the very recesses of my soul and brought forth lucidity. “I have no interest in countries or war or governments. I only want to be with my beloved.”

“But what of your descendants?”