Byna's Blessing
Spring
It was after the snow melted and the trees had started to bud that I saw her again. I was still three years old at the time, and, as per usual, was out practising my hunt.
Now the snow had melted, I no longer wore my furs and boots. I wore a tunic, of which I had two; one with long sleeves that stopped just below the knee, and one with short sleeves that stopped just above the knee. In early spring and late autumn, I wore the former, which I did not like, as it was a little restricting and an unattractive brown colour. The latter, which I wore through late spring to early autumn, was my favourite: the bodice and skirt were a rich dark red, the sleeves beige, and, fastened with a brown leather belt, I thought they looked like hunting clothes. With a shorter skirt, I could run better than normal. Both of these were suited to running around barefoot.
The air was chilly, and the ground full of dew, however my discomfort underfoot was nothing I could alter. Boots rubbed and chafed, and really were the least desirable option.
Running through the woods, I stumbled upon a root. That was highly unlikely…
Spotting Byna’s work immediately, I turned to see the goddess standing before me.
Instead of bothering with pleasantries, which I felt were not deserved for such a creature, I asked outright.
“You killed my mother, didn’t you?” I asked her.
“She fell into a snowdrift; you know that.”
“I bet she prayed to you, to ask you where to go,” I began, vehemently, “and you told her the wrong way. She was totally avid in worshipping you, and you killed her. That doesn’t make any difference. I still say no. There are bad goddesses and good goddesses, and you’re a bad goddess. I can’t be the daughter of a bad goddess.”
What more of Byna’s wrath could I incur? She looked at me with some desperation, some reverence, before settling on the ground.
However compelled I was to sacrifice to her, I decided that I would not pray to her any longer. I felt some sense of immunity. She just wanted a child, and her eye was firmly upon me.
Now the snow had melted, I no longer wore my furs and boots. I wore a tunic, of which I had two; one with long sleeves that stopped just below the knee, and one with short sleeves that stopped just above the knee. In early spring and late autumn, I wore the former, which I did not like, as it was a little restricting and an unattractive brown colour. The latter, which I wore through late spring to early autumn, was my favourite: the bodice and skirt were a rich dark red, the sleeves beige, and, fastened with a brown leather belt, I thought they looked like hunting clothes. With a shorter skirt, I could run better than normal. Both of these were suited to running around barefoot.
The air was chilly, and the ground full of dew, however my discomfort underfoot was nothing I could alter. Boots rubbed and chafed, and really were the least desirable option.
Running through the woods, I stumbled upon a root. That was highly unlikely…
Spotting Byna’s work immediately, I turned to see the goddess standing before me.
Instead of bothering with pleasantries, which I felt were not deserved for such a creature, I asked outright.
“You killed my mother, didn’t you?” I asked her.
“She fell into a snowdrift; you know that.”
“I bet she prayed to you, to ask you where to go,” I began, vehemently, “and you told her the wrong way. She was totally avid in worshipping you, and you killed her. That doesn’t make any difference. I still say no. There are bad goddesses and good goddesses, and you’re a bad goddess. I can’t be the daughter of a bad goddess.”
What more of Byna’s wrath could I incur? She looked at me with some desperation, some reverence, before settling on the ground.
However compelled I was to sacrifice to her, I decided that I would not pray to her any longer. I felt some sense of immunity. She just wanted a child, and her eye was firmly upon me.
♠ ♠ ♠
A bit of a short chapter; it leads on from the last one but is kind of a setting the scene chapter. The next few will be longer, I promise. :D