GODDESSES INC

13

Axie considered the photo Mnem messaged her. Blood. There it was. The real proof of mortality. Seeing it made it more frightening than she imagined. A few days ago, she contemplated killing herself with an ancient scimitar. Yet she never imagined blood. Real blood. Her imagined death was romantic. A stab to the heart. A quick cessation of life. The truth hit hard. Pain, gurgling, gasping, groaning, and lots of blood. Dying was messy.

Axie removed a small paring knife from the kitchen drawer. Killing herself was no longer an option. She refused to give Shee the satisfaction.

Her own blood. She needed to see it.

Axie ran the blade across her palm. The blood emerged, red and fast. Such a precious mortal fluid. Giver of destiny and life. Bringer of tragedy and death.

"Oh my."

Axie must be careful. Avoid sharp things and dangerous places. For thousands of years she walked into battles, into dangerous courts lorded over by bloodthirsty rulers, into villages ravaged by pestilence. She always thought of herself as fearless. Now she saw that courage for what it was. A beautiful lie. There was no bravery if you cannot die. True courage was performing an action that might kill you.

Death and illness had been an abstract concept. One she understood in her head, but never her soul. Broken bones, bruises, sprains, headaches, disease; all these mortal ailments were hers to receive. A fatal gift from Shee.

Axie stuck her finger in the blood and felt strangely reborn. This blood would make her a better person. It would ground her, make her feel empathy in ways she never did before.

"I am one of them," she murmured.

Except she wasn't. Not really. Not by a long—thousands of years long—shot. Once one dined on immortality there was no return. No acceptance of a too-short life. Yet, here she was, having to taste mortality in all of its bitter and sweet sustenance. A meal Axie was force fed by FEM. Made to chew and swallow for the rest of her mortal life.

Axie ran her hand under the running faucet. The blood diluted, dripped over her hand, and ran into the sink. The cut was shallow and stopped bleeding. Axie blotted it with a paper towel, returned to her chair, and stared at the list of her mortal qualifications.

A quick internet search provided the traits most preferred by employers. In small precise script, Axie jotted them down. Motivated, dependable, multitasker, analytical, detail-oriented, independent thinker, quick-learner, organized. She added 'honest' and frowned. These weren't skills that would help her get a job.

Axie pushed the list away, grabbed her Hermès purse, and walked out the front door. Retail therapy. It worked for mortals.

Too bad there was no therapy for ex-goddesses.

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