Skip to main content

The God Door

Another story from the Forty Isles. This one is not set in any particular location or time period, but acts as an interesting slice of what life is like there.

The door was aged, elegantly carved and as I pushed, it swung silently open. A whisper would have been a scream.
My village had left me as the sacrifice for the God of the Woods. We practiced the paths of the Brotherhood, but with the advent of several natural disasters, some of the people remembered the God of the Woods. Maybe he was angry with them, the townsfolk had said.
Wamocha was his name, though no one remembered it.
I did, but that was because I enjoyed learning about the gods and goddesses around the town. The Brotherhood called me evil and threatened to send me away.
The townsfolk, it would seem, had the best idea - sacrifice me to the god they had forgotten in hopes that he would stop the disasters. If anything, it could prove his reality or something like that. Either way, I would be gone from their lives and no one would fear my intelligence or arguments.
All that had happened two days ago, and here I stood with my provisions nearly emptied, my body aching and my feet sore.
Should I enter or should I find a more hospitable place in deep dark woods, with night falling quickly. While I wasn't certain, I was fairly confident that a wolf or two was on my tail, too.
I entered the portal and the door closed. I knew because the room became suddenly dark then brightened as myriads of tiny dots on the walls began to glow and form into an intricate diamond shape, much like vines growing upon one another.
Turned out, the door led into a long hallway. No matter how far I walked, the path seemed endless. I began to suspect it was a circle when I left my bag on a chair, only to find it sometime later. "Bothersome," I retorted into the darkness. If this is some magical home of a wizard or fae, you would think they could provide directions."
"For what?"
I spun around. Behind me, a man stood. He was both young and old, a head taller than myself and darker than anything I could imagine. His skin was ebony, his eyes galaxies with tiny pinpricks of stars. Around his head he wore a garland of leaves and over his body he wore a robe belted at his waist. The garment was beautiful even as it was mysterious. It was a shade of black or blue, and appeared to be made with living stars.
"Ah, you like the robe," he rumbled. "It was a gift from a friend of mine. Gwion magic is always the best there is, I always say."
The Gwion were known for their beautiful tapestries and exotic clothing choices. The daughters and nieces of the current head of the Gwion were always on the fashion magazines most stylish list.
"Don't you have godly weavers?"
"We do," he agreed, never bothering to ask why I would assume he was a god. Maybe he knew already. "They charge enormous prices and the Gwion have better taste. Between you and me, I wish Alfny or Aoife would teach them a thing or two, but they can't seeing how the godly weavers are quite stubborn and set in their ways. Problem with being immortal - after two or three thousand years, you don't want to change."
He started walking down the hallway and turned left at a door. "Now, as for you. I would suppose you're hungry. Usually, the ones who make it this far are quite famished. There's food, but it's not the greatest, and I am uncertain what you like."
We entered a room where a table was set out in front of us. Fruits from all over the Forty Isles lay in golden and silver bowls, while the spicy scent of stewed beef simmering over a low flame wafted over from one of the four - four?! - fireplaces. The other three had roasted chicken with a mellow herbal scent, a melodic array of lavender and thyme on a fish, and a sultry pork and rice dish.
My stomach demanded attention and I hadn't even taken three steps into the room.
"Eat, of course, you must be hungry by now."
I dealt with a god, and all gods were never known to provide food. They ate godly food - whatever that was. "Can I?"
"Of course you can. It's all food. The house always provides food for the staff. I, of course, don't eat what the house provides. You'll have to prepare that yourself."
"Come again?"
"As the servant, you have to prepare the food for me. I can eat mortal foods, but somehow the way the house prepares it always gives me indigestion." He leaned closer. "Don't tell the house I said that - rather finicky, it is."
I knew how to cook, but I wasn't good at it. Nowhere near god level.
Wamocha didn't seem bothered by it though. Something else did bother him, though. He picked up a clump of my hair and let it drop down. "Are you quite old?"
I slapped his hand away. "I'm thirty-five, if you must know."
"Then why is your hair white?"
"I was born this way. I come from a family of very light-haired people."
He ignored the slap and the anger as he walked around me. "You're white." He looked past me towards the door. "Have I moved? It's been several years since I was beyond the forest."
"No," I sighed. "My father decided to move us into the nearby town because we were closer to other people who followed the Brotherhood."
Wamocha held up his hand. "Who?"
"The Brotherhood," I repeated. "The ones who follow the Most High God. The uncreated one?"
"I follow him as well seeing that he's my king and commander, but I don't understand why anyone would move a family from one place to another because of whom a group chooses to exclude from their pantheon of gods they acknowledge."
Was he jealous?
Could gods become jealous?
"Also, why it does not bother me at all, seeing that you appear to be quite capable and decently human. Why did they send a woman?"
I blinked twice. "You are bothered by the fact I am a woman?"
"Not at all, confused." He started walking to the table. "Are you going to eat, because if you don't the house will be hurt and will not allow you to find anything at all. I cannot allow my servants to become ill."
"About that, what if I don't want to be your servant?"
"Then you can go back out into the forest with those four wolves trailing you."
Four of them!
"What does the job entail?"
Wamocha blinked this time. "Everything - well, the house keeps itself clean so you don't have to worry about housecleaning. You'll have to cook my meals, but the house cleans the dishes. Primarily you'll have to help with the normal mundane things - organizing my writing, keeping up with correspondences, informing the various priests of my decisions, deciding where I need to visit and other items." He picked up a pineapple and sniffed it before putting it back on the table. "My last servant enjoyed himself."
"And when did he leave?"
"He died some years ago. Two hundred years? I was surprised a servant hadn't been sent in until you. Why did you come?"
"There are natural disasters in the town ..."
"Not me. That's the result of the twins have tantrums."
"Yours?"
"I have no children. No the twins are actually my younger siblings. Rambunctious little know-it-alls. You'll have to deal with the family as well." He cocked his head. "Not certain what they'll think about you, though." He sighed. "I'll deal with that later. Mother will be pleased."
I rubbed my forehead, not wanting to deal with godly family issues just yet.
"Are you going to remain?"
If my stomach had any choice, gladly.
My brain, however was also working with my stomach - curse it. There were four wolves out there. I had no food. No idea which way to go or anything else. Logically, this was my best option, but I felt like I was being tricked into the position.
Unfortunately, I had nothing to return home too, either. I would have been sent away by the Brotherhood. At worst, they might even attempt to kill me.
I closed my eyes and sighed. "I'll remain as your servant." I opened my eyes. "I don't have to seal it with blood do I?"
Wamocha chuckled. "Just food. Honestly, it's the house's way of ensuring its knowledge of who is in here at any given time. What am I to call you, anyway?"
"Pakasinura."
"Pretty."
That night, I learned that the gods did exist, were rather friendly and inclined to forget punch lines in jokes, but could tell a good story regardless. As I gorged on stew, chicken, pineapples, chocolate cake and things I never knew what they were, I listened to Wamocha.
Maybe curiosity didn't kill the cat as the members of the Brotherhood had informed me countless times. Maybe curiosity provided the opportunity to find something better.



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Chapter Four - The Board and Council

The town center was the oldest and grayest part of the town, though, even there the buildings were still colorful with the stone buildings being blue-gray, pink-gray and lavender-gray. In the center of town, marking the absolute center of the town, was a park area with a fountain in the center, the fountain led down into an underground grotto which was currently overflowing with people not unlike the fountain above it. “Looks like it’s connected,” Ramses said. “I think Mederei said it was had healing properties.” “That would be the place to look for the tapestries.” “Mama,” a child whispered loudly. Why was it when children whispered they yelled? “Why is that man so brown?” “Shh, honey, he’s probably from the capital region.” “No, Mama, they’re black, he isn’t. He’s brown, and scary looking.” The boy, blonde haired and blue eyed like his mother, was probably from the town. It was said that on the Isle of Caergwl├ón, the darkest were those in the capital and from there, they lost their color…

Chapter Nineteen - Negotiations

And we're back! Apparently my computer was sick, needed a reboot and now I'm in the process of organizing it all over again. Ah well. 


She was annoyingly brilliant, stubborn and naive; he was equally brilliant and stubborn, but not as naive. Kiango and Mederei were too valuable to the kingdom to remain in constant battles, but that's where they often found themselves. Both trying to solve a problem to help their families, friends or kingdom, but often going about it the completely opposite ways. Both had the power and prestige related to their families, and both wielded that power in strange and unusual ways. Kiango used his influence to lead the younger members of the society, but unlike other members of the royal family, had little magic. Mederei's magical power had to remain regulated and hidden because of the rules. How much of Mederei's ability Kiango knew about though ... They would always remain in conflict with one another, but there had to be some way they c…

Winter Hiatus

It's really chilly here in Seoul at the moment, so I took advantage of my Christmas present to weave some more cloth. Also, due to it being the end of the school year (Korean schools run from March to February), I'm currently busy with finishing up school, and getting things ready for next year.

All that said, I'm taking a hiatus from Mederei's story until March. Thankfully, I'm not leaving you on a terrible cliff-hanger, though. Posting in January and February will be sporadic as I find the time to write while getting other things done. 

For those interested in the weaving, the brownish color has flecks of gold in it, but is a rayon, acrylic mixture. The black is cashmere I received back in Buffalo a couple years back. It's been woven and washed and looks freaking amazing. I think I'll make it into a dress.

Below is a photo from the light show in downtown Seoul. It was beautiful, but cold that night.



Stay warm!