This is the beginning of a new fantasy book i'm working on, in which a young woman is to be the avatar for the goddess of destruction, and a priest is sent to kill her before the goddess can be reborn. Only at this point she doesn't know it yet. Please tell me what you think of this so far.
-Revised -
A Goddess Awakens
Prologue
In a spacious, circular room, an old man in purple priest's robes knelt in front of a large marble altar at the far end of the room, his bald head bowed. A skylight in the ceiling provided the only light for the otherwise empty rooom. A gold medallion lay against his chest. The man held his hands clasped as he prayed in the late afternoon light.
Suddenly, the man raised his head, turned around, and gazed up at the skylight. “Are you sure?” he asked. He was silent a moment, then spoke again. “I understand. It will be done.”
The man rose and walked across the room to a set of solid oak double doors. He opened one of the doors and spoke to the young blonde boy in white acolyte's robes standing outside the room, waiting for him.
“Karl,” the purple-robed man said, “hurry and fetch Tarn for me. I wish to speak with him at once.”
“Yes, High Priest Usiah,” said the boy. He gave a quick bow, then turned and ran off down the hallway behind him.
* * *
A young brown-haired man in red priest’s robes sat reading a book at an oaken desk in a small, windowless room. There was not much else in the way of furniture in this little room. Other than the desk and the small lantern sitting on it, and the desk chair, there was only a small cot and a bookshelf on the opposite wall.
Slowly, the young priest's eyelids began to droop, then his head. His forehead was about to touch the page he had been perusing when a sudden knock on his door startled him and he jumped in his chair, now quite awake. “Enter,” he called out as he closed his book and turned to face the door.
The door opened and a young blonde boy wearing the white robes of an acolyte entered the room. He gave the man in red robes a small bow. “Master Tarn, sir,” he said. “I’m sorry to disrupt your studies, but High Priest Usiah is requesting your presence in the Sanctuary.”
Tarn stood up. “Thank you, Karl,” he said.
The heels of Tarn’s boots clacked against the stone floor as he walked down a long hallway devoid of anything but a few scant torches on the walls, and he wondered why he had been summoned. Various possibilities played through his mind as he walked, until he reached a T- intersection. At the center of the crossroads was a set of double doors of solid oak. Tarn paused outside the doors and took a deep breath. He cleared his mind, then knocked on the doors and pushed them open, not waiting for an answer first.
He entered a large circular room. A skylight in the ceiling high overhead showed a clear blue sky darkening with the onset of dusk. A few stars were beginning to be visible. Tarn paid it no mind, though. His attention was focused on the only things in the room: a long, unadorned marble altar at the far end of the room, and the bald, old man in purple priest's robes who stood in front of the altar, facing him.
Tarn walked up to the old man and knelt before him, head bowed. “You wished to see me, High Priest Usiah?” he asked.
“Yes, Tarn,” the old man said. “The time for which you have been so diligently preparing has finally come.”
Tarn looked up at him, surprise evident on his face. “Already, sir?”
“Yes, Tarn. I have seen it in the stars of late, and Samaryu has confirmed it.” He held a thin, bony, wrinkled hand out to Tarn, palm open wide, and whispered a few words. “Behold,” he told Tarn. “This is your target.”
A small, translucent image of a young, redheaded swordswoman in leather armor appeared, floating above the palm of Usiah’s open hand. Tarn gave a small gasp, shocked that such a pretty woman could possibly be his mark. “She is the one?” he asked, seeking confirmation but not really wanting it.
“Yes, Tarn. You must prevent the goddess of destruction from being reborn. Destroy Aerith’s avatar before she can awaken. Find this woman, Tarn, and kill her.”
Tarn swallowed. “As you command,” he said solemnly.
The young man rose, bowed to the high priest, turned, and walked from the Sanctuary. As he did, he wondered if, when the time came, he would be able to do as he had been instructed. Killing such a beautiful woman seemed like such a waste.
As he watched Tarn walk away, a small, smug smile crossed Usiah's lips.
Chapter 1
In the fading afternoon light, a lone figure entered a forest clearing from among the trees. The tall, lightly tanned man had long, light blonde hair that could almost pass for white. In his arms he held a bundle of sticks and tree branches. He walked briskly to the center of the clearing, making the forest green cloak he wore over his white cotton shirt and brown breeches flare out behind him slightly. The small movement revealed an array of sheathed daggers all along his belt, as well as a short sword on his right hip, and the tip of a knife handle sticking out of the top of each of his soft leather boots.
The man squatted down on the ground and piled the sticks and limbs together. Then he reached into a pocket inside his cloak and pulled out a flint rock, which he scraped over the wood with a dagger from his belt. The resulting sparks caught in the timber and a small fire began to burn. The man returned dagger to its sheath and the flint rock to the pocket and settled down before the campfire. He glanced briefly at a tree not far away, underneath which a black cloak and a couple of leather bags had been placed.
“I hope Althea gets back soon with some dinner,” he muttered. “I’m starving.”
Pushing his long, white-blonde hair behind his ears, the tips of which were pointed, he stared into the campfire. The flickering flames danced in his almond-shaped, chocolate brown eyes framed by thin, slanted eyebrows the same color as his hair. His thoughts began to drift as he watched the flames, and he did not notice the large white wolf enter the clearing.
* * *
“Anju!” called the little white-haired boy as he ran off the dirt road into the forest, chasing after a white wolf cub. “Anju, come back!”
“Don’t run off too far, Lorenathalus!” the pretty blonde lady standing beside the black-haired man called after the boy. “Your father and I don’t want to have to hunt you down!”
“Yes, mama!” the boy called back as he continued chasing after the wolf cub. “Anju!” he called to the wolf. “You stop right there!”
The wolf cub halted not far ahead of the boy, turned to face him, and yipped playfully at him as he watched the boy approach.
“Bad boy, Anju,” Lorenathalus scolded the pup as he reached down to pick it up in his little arms. “You know better than to run off like that.”
Hugging the pup, which was about half his own size, to his chest, the little boy turned around and retraced his steps towards the dirt road. He was almost back when he heard the sound of hooves beating furiously on the road, the whinnying of frightened horses, the sound of running, and the screams of his mother and father suddenly cut short. With his heart in his throat, Lorenathalus ran to the road. The sight he found made him burst into tears and the wolf cub to whimper.
Five soldiers sat on horseback with their swords drawn. Two of the blades dripped with blood. On the ground by the horses’ feet lay the bodies of Lorenathalus’s parents. A band of afternoon sunlight washed over the bodies, seeming to embrace and hold them comfortingly.
“Filthy elves,” said one of the soldiers with a sneer as he wiped his bloody sword off on the saddle blanket then sheathed the blade. At the sound of Lorenathalus’s crying, he turned. “Look, there’s another one. Get him!”
“Hold,” called a strong, authoritative voice from down the road. Another soldier on horseback approached the group. “Don’t kill the boy. Take him alive. He may prove useful.”
“Yes, General Kinski,” said the soldier who had been eager to kill the boy.
The soldier approached Lorenathalus and reached down from his horse to pick the boy up. Anju growled.
* * *
The sound of a wolf's low growling brought the man's attention back from the flames and memories and to the present.
“Huh?” he said, looking to his left and seeing a white wolf staring at the forest, in the direction of the road. “What is it, Anju? What’s wrong?”
Then he heard the sound of metal clashing followed by a woman’s voice calling from the distance. “Loren!”
Loren’s slanted eyebrows raised slightly. “Althea?” he said in surprise.
“Don't just sit there!” the woman’s voice said. “Get up off your lazy rump and help me!”
Loren noted the tone of her voice: slightly frantic, but mostly irritated. He sighed and stood up. “You heard the lady, Anju,” he said to the large wolf. “Let’s go see what kind of trouble she’s gotten into now.”
Their camp had not been set up very far from the road, so it did not take him long at all to arrive back at the dirt road. He leaned up against a tree, crossed his arms, and watched the spectacle before him. Anju sat down at his side and watched as well. The wolf’s head just reached Loren’s waist.
A lone woman stood in the middle of the road, surrounded by a group of six men dressed in common, everyday clothes and armed with swords. She was tall, fair skinned, had long, fiery red hair tied back in a tail by a leather string, and wore a suit of leather armor and leather boots. In her hands was a long sword, the sheath for which was strapped to her back. At her feet lay a bow and quiver of arrows and a couple of dead rabbits. She swung the sword at the head of the nearest armed man attacking her on her right, then kicked out with her left leg at the chest of a man attacking her from that direction. Her sword missed, but her foot did not. The man stumbled back, and she ducked a sword swing from the man on her right. She followed through by spinning around with her sword out, making the group of men take a step back.
“Don’t just stand there, you nitwit!” she called out as she straightened up and faced three men advancing on her at once. “How about giving me a hand here, Loren?”
Loren clapped his hands together in applause. “Hooray, Althea! Hooray!”
“Not funny, Loren,” she said angrily as she swung her sword and knocked aside the three men’s swords. But by then the rest of the men had gotten too close for her comfort. She raised her sword and risked a look in Loren’s direction. As Althea opened her mouth to ask him for help yet again, she felt her tail of hair grasped and her head yanked back roughly. Then a sword blade was at her throat.
Loren instantly stepped away from the tree, brushed his cloak aside, and reached down to his belt of daggers. He glanced down at Anju as he slid a dagger from its sheath. “Ready?” he asked the wolf.
Anju stood up and snarled, and Loren tossed the dagger at the man holding Althea. The blade struck him dead center in the forehead. A brief look of surprise crossed his face, and then the sword fell from the man’s hand and his grip on Althea loosened. She took the opportunity to elbow him away, and he fell to the ground, dead. Loren followed his dagger throw with two more, each striking one of the attackers in the back before they could gather their wits and attack again. They promptly fell to the ground face first.
At the same time as Loren tossed his first dagger, Anju howled and charged. The wolf jumped on the back of one of the men, knocking him down to the ground. Before the man knew what hit him, Anju had his neck in his mouth. The wolf whipped the man’s head back and forth with enough force to snap his neck. Then Anju snarled and jumped onto another man, this time from the front. The two fell down with Anju on top, snapping at the man’s face and clawing at his chest.
The remaining man dropped his sword and ran for the forest.
As the skirmish ended, Althea lowered her sword to rest the point on the ground while Loren walked over to her. Anju left the mangled body of the second man he had jumped on to join his master’s side. His tailed wagged happily as he looked up at the redheaded woman.
“Are you all right, Althea?” Loren asked as he looked her over quickly to check for any wounds. Just a few scratches were evident on her arms. Nothing serious to worry about. Relieved, he then bent down to retrieve a dagger from the back of one of the attackers.
“I’m all right,” Althea said, bending down to pet the white wolf on the head. “You’re a good boy, Anju,” she said, making the wolf pant with pleasure. She then stood up straight and pierced the elf with an accusing glare from her jade green eyes. “But you’re not, Loren,” she said sharply. “You sure took your sweet time helping me out, waiting until I actually had a sword to my throat to step in and do something. Some partner you are.”
Loren stood up straight and waggled the dagger at her. “Cut me some slack, Althea,” he said curtly. “How am I supposed to know when you really need help? I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve jumped in when you were in the middle of a fight, thinking you needed help, only to have you chew me out. You looked like you were doing fine on your own. And it’s not like they were trolls or something. They were just men.”
“Just men? Men, Loren, are smarter than trolls, goblins, or any of the other monsters we’ve hunted. Men can think. Men can learn. They can be trained to wield weapons with deadly precision. And they can be devious. Men are much more dangerous than monsters. I thought you would have known that. And you were just going to leave me to fight six of them on my own?”
She was right. He of all people should have known better. Loren lowered his head in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Althea,” he said softy.
She appreciated his apology, knowing it was sincere, but she was not quite done berating him yet. “And why’d you have to kill them? I was trying to avoid that. They’re people, not monsters, and I only kill monsters.”
He looked up at her, slanted eyebrows raised in surprise. “You’re still going to stick to that ideological nonsense of yours? Even after this? Oh, Althea, would you wake up, already! These guys deserved it! Do you have any idea what they were going to do to you?”
“I thought they were trying to rob me. A bad thing for them to do, yes, but that doesn’t make them monsters.”
Loren shook his head. “Althea, with you wearing that form-fitting leather armor of yours, anyone with eyes could see that you don’t have any money on you. Now, with that in mind, what do you think they wanted to do to you, a pretty young woman, alone on a dirt road in the middle of a forest at dusk?”
She stared at him as the answer sank in. Her face turned pink, and she looked away. “I’m too tired to argue about this anymore right now, Loren. Let’s go eat. I’m sure you’re starving, as always.”
She sheathed her sword and walked off into the forest, towards their camp. Anju followed behind her at a trot. Loren shook his head again. “Sometimes people can be monsters,” he said softly to her retreating back. “One day, Althea, you’ll see my point. I just hope it’s not too late when you do.” Then he retrieved the rest of his daggers, cleaned them off, and returned them to their sheathes. Afterwards, he dragged the bodies off the road and hid them in some underbrush. When all the evidence of the fight had been cleared away, Loren returned to the road, picked up the bow, quiver of arrows, and the dead rabbits Althea had caught for their dinner, and followed after his partner.
* * *
As Loren roasted the rabbits over the campfire, Althea rummaged through the leather bags by her black cloak under the tree. After a minute, she found what she was looking for: a small white porcelain jar. With the jar in hand, she moved closer to the campfire. Settling down there, across from Loren, she took off her leather vest, rolled up the sleeves of her white cotton shirt, and removed the lid to the jar and dipped two slender fingers into the white ointment inside it. Then she began rubbing the ointment onto the scratches on her arms.
“Want some help with that, Althea?” Loren asked.
Althea looked up from her ministrations and fixed the elf with an icy glare from her jade green eyes. “Oh, so now you offer to help me,” she said tartly. “Well, thank you for the offer, Loren, but I think I’m perfectly capable of applying a healing lotion to my wounds on my own. It’s not like I’m fighting a monster or anything.”
Loren stared at her for a moment, feeling both hurt and angry. Then he stood up and scowled at Althea. “Okay,” he said sourly. “Fine. Be that way, Althea. I was just trying to be nice and to make up for my earlier mistake. But if you’re just going to hold a grudge and not forgive a guy for an honest mistake, even after he’s apologized, then I guess our partnership is over. Good-bye, Althea.” He turned from the campfire and started walking towards the forest. “Come on, Anju,” he said to the white wolf lying beside the campfire. “We’re obviously not wanted here anymore. Let’s go home.”
The wolf stood up and looked at his master with confusion in its ice blue eyes. But he still followed after the elf.
Wide-eyed and speechless with astonishment, Althea watched them leave. A minute after they had vanished from view among the trees, she finally found her voice. “Fine, then!" Althea yelled after them. “Go on home, you coward! I don’t need you! I hunted monsters just fine by myself before you showed up, and I can do it again!”
She stared at the spot she had last seen them, hardly daring to breathe, and waited to see if Loren would come back, if he would yell something back, if he would do anything to acknowledge what she had just said. But after a couple of minutes of receiving nothing in response, she sighed and stared into the flickering flames of the now lonely campfire. As Althea watched the flames dance, her mind drifted back to the time when she and Loren met.
At that time, a poor little village in a valley in the mountains had hired her to find and get rid of a troll that had been terrorizing them. She tracked the monster to a small crevasse in the base of the mountains, not far from the village. There she engaged the huge, brown-skinned, man-like monster in battle. She had taken a few hits, but had eventually gained the advantage over the creature. She was close to having the troll worn down enough to be able to soon finish it off when a large white blur flew past her before she could swing her sword again. Startled, she froze in place, sword in mid-swing, and watched. She couldn't believe what she saw : a white wolf was attacking the troll’s legs, pulling the troll’s attention away from her and to the nimble animal. While the troll’s attention was focused on the wolf, a flaming arrow flew by from behind her and struck the troll in the chest. The troll roared in anger and pain and started flailing around as fire engulfed it. The wolf then ran away, past her and towards the direction the arrow had come. Snapping out of her surprise, she turned around to see where the wolf had gone, and came face-to-face with a young elf man with white-blonde hair who looked to be about the same age as she was at the time, that being twenty years. In one of his hands he held a bow. The wolf had sat down at his side. Its head just reached the elf’s waist. Totally surprised, she just stared at the elf in shock. He smiled at her, then his chocolate brown eyes fixed on something above her, and he grabbed her by the arm and dragged her out of the crevasse. No sooner had they left than a large rock, dislodged by the troll’s flailing, landed right where she had been standing with a resounding crash. Once they were clear of danger, the elf asked her if she was all right. At the sound of his voice, she snapped out her stupor and berated him for interfering in her fight. He took her rant in stride, and as soon as she stopped to catch her breath, he introduced himself and offered to buy her dinner as an apology. Once again stunned, all she could do was nod her acceptance.
“Althea?” said a voice softly from ahead of her.
Althea blinked, her attention dragged back to the present by the voice. She looked up from the flames and into Loren’s face. She gasped and stared at him in surprise. She had been so lost in thought, she had not noticed him return and sit back down at the campfire. Anju had resumed his spot as well, laying down by the fire. The wolf watched the two of them intently. Loren gave Althea a wan smile and held out a stick to her. On the end of the stick was a very crispy clump of meat that used to be a rabbit.
“I think dinner is more than ready,” Loren said.
Slowly, Althea smiled at him and took the stick from him. “Loren, I...I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too. The rabbit had started off looking like it would rather tasty.”
Althea rolled her eyes but chuckled slightly.
“And I’m also sorry for walking off,” he added. “I shouldn’t have lost my temper like that.”
“I...I thought you were going home, Loren.”
“I was. But once my anger wore off, I remembered that I don’t have a home to go back to. I don’t have anywhere to go. I don’t belong anywhere.”
Althea shook her head. “That’s not true . You belong here. You’re my partner, Loren. And you’re my friend.”
“You mean you’re taking me back, Althea? You’re forgiving me?”
“I guess I am, Loren.” She heaved a sigh. “Though I honestly don’t know why I’m bothering to keep such an idiot like you around. In the five years we’ve been partners, you’ve gotten in my way more than you’ve helped.”
“I know why you’re keeping me around, Althea.” He gave her a roguish smile. “You just can’t get enough of my good looks.”
Althea rolled her eyes, but felt her face warm a little. His appearance was rather attractive, she had to admit. A woman would have to be blind not to think so. “Oh, don’t be absurd, Loren,” she said with a hint of irritation. “That mangy mutt of yours is better looking than you are.”
Anju sat up, his eyes bright and his tail wagging. He panted a little in what could very well have been a laugh.
Loren gave Althea a stricken look. “Anju is not a mangy mutt, Althea!”
Althea chuckled. “I know, Loren. I know.” She then gave him an appraising look. “Loren,” she said, “are you sure you’re an elf?”
“What?” he asked, giving her a confused look. He ran a finger lightly over one of his eyes. “I have slanted eyebrows and almond-shaped eyes.” He ran a finger over one of his ears. “And my ears are pointed. Those are physical characteristics of elves, last I heard. So I’d say I must be an elf. Why do you ask?”
Althea gave her head a small shake. “That’s just it, Loren. You don’t act like other elves. You’re always kidding around.”
“I don’t act like other elves?” Loren repeated. “How would you know, Althea? Have you met any other elves?”
“Well, no. It’s just that I’ve always heard that elves always act serious and reserved and prefer to avoid contact with humans if possible. But you don’t. Why is that?”
“From what I can remember, it’s true that most elves are serious and reserved and snobbish and don’t particularly care for humans. As for me, well, let’s just say you bring out the human in me, Althea.”
She gave Loren a surprised look. “There’s human in you? You’re a half-elf? I thought you were a pureblood.”
“I am not a half-elf!” Loren said loudly with resentment. “And that’s not what I meant at all.”
“Then what did you mean?”
“Well...” he said, casting his eyes to the side. His voice was now soft and low as he tried to figure out how to avoid the question.
“Quit stalling. What did you mean? That by being around me all the time, you’ve managed to acquire some human idiosyncrasies?”
“Sort of.”
“'Sort of'? Would you care to elaborate?”
He started to, but decided not to. There was more to it than what she had said, but she did not need to know any more right then, and he was not ready to tell her more. He figured it would be best to just let her go on thinking for now that she was the only human he had spent a long period of time with. He would tell her the rest if it became necessary. “It’s getting late, Althea,” he told her instead, “and you’ve had a long day. Why don’t you lie down and get some rest? I’ll keep watch for now. We can switch off later.”
She knew she would not be able to get any more out of him. He always balked and changed the subject when a conversation became too personal for him, and though she really wanted to know more about him, she had learned not to press the matter. He would tell her when he was ready, she knew. So, with a sigh of resignation, she got up and retrieved her cloak from under the tree, then returned to the campfire. She spread the cloak out on the ground by the fire and laid down.
Once she was stretched out on the ground, she realized she was more tired than she had thought. She did not fall asleep right away, though. Her mind still wandered as she rested, reliving the day’s activities and wandering farther back at times. “Loren?” she said softly after a few minutes.
“Yes, Althea?” he replied.
“I’ve never told you this, but...”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
He had not expected her to say that, and was struck speechless for a moment by her statement. “What are you thanking me for, Althea?” he finally said.
“For what else, Loren? For helping me today. And for helping me all the other times, as well, whether I needed it or not. And for being my partner and friend.” Then sleep claimed her.
He smiled down at her sleeping form across the fire from him. “Good night, Althea,” he said softly. “And you're welcome.”
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