Godless

Chapter 6

It had been a miracle that mother met father at all. Father use to say that was a sign in itself that somehow, somewhere, our gods were still watching over us. How else could the last male and female of our kind find each other? And not only that, but be perfectly matched soulmates?

"Then why aren't there more of us?" I had asked.

A familiar sadness came over my parents' faces, and I instantly felt bad for asking. Mother and Father had wanted another baby for a very long time, and neither of them could explain to me, or each other, why they still only had me. I had even heard them talking late into the night that, maybe, if I could have a brother, our kind wouldn't be so lost, nor would their little daughter end up being so alone.

Neither of them had ever thought of a human being a possibility.

"Humans don't imprint," Father had told me as we watched a caravan pass under our hidden canyon home. "Their hearts are often times too weak to love and they flutter from one mate to another, selfishly seeking satisfaction, breeding like rabbits on the way."

But watching the humans, I had thought it such a shame. They could have been just like us without wings or feathers of any sort. Also, they had such a wide variety of hair colors: red, gold, browns of every shade, silver, white, and black. Why did their gods have to create them with such fickle hearts? Didn't that make them sad?

When I woke up, I still thought myself leaning over the canyon wall, watching the colorful parade of traveling humans and horses below. Therefore, when I saw a branchy roof I didn't remember, I was confused. My back hurt. The knobbly joints where my wings melded into my back protested something awful about having my weight pressing them into the floor.

When the memory of the brilliant spring came to my mind, I just laid there, growing even more confused. I had died, surely. Was this how the afterlife was, then? Painful and staring up at wood?

Slowly, I sat up, taking in what could only be the world of the dead, which was much more homey than I had expected. A fire burned in a stone fireplace, and just to the side of the flames a pot of stew boiled. I sniffed and my mouth started to water. I could smell cheese. I loved cheese.

My stomach grumbled.

"It's about time you woke up."

I turned to see Link at a sink nearby, washing dishes. It looked so odd to see the hero who had downed creatures of nightmares doing something so mundane. It somehow lessened the shock that I couldn't be dead if he was here. No being of the light who served the goddesses would harm him.

"I hope your kind don't have any weird aversions to dairy or anything, because I didn't have much." He wiped his hands off with a towel and, using the same towel, eased the hook and pot out from the fire and stirred it with a ladle that had been in his belt. "Ah, good, the cheese is just right. Burnt it last time."

Unable to look at him without feeling nervous, I tried looking elsewhere. Link's home was modest, but comfortable. Two shelves of books sat against the wall a bit away, and I could see a ladder going up into a loft where I could see the edge of a bed and desk. I fingered the blankets he had thrown on me. The rug I laid on was made of a thick weave, so although bumpy, it wasn't uncomfortable.

"Are you up for some food?"

"Um, sure. Thanks."

"No problem. I always make too much." I thought I heard something behind those words, but didn't mention it. If his traveling companion had gone home, to that other realm, he probably was use to cooking for two.