Of Gods & Champions: Book I: Fate

X. The Aftermath & The Clean-Shaven God

I SIT SILENTLY ON MY BROKEN OLD MATTRESS, MY RATTY blanket wrapped around my shoulders as I stare off into nothing, unresponsive.

Days must have passed since we liberated Shadoun, since Jeggar died... Yet I remember nothing that followed, and have no sense of the passing of time. I remember not the long journey home, yet I here I am, Mother shuffling quietly near the fire, trying not to disturb me but I feel her eyes worriedly piercing into me at regular intervals.

I feel like an empty shell of whatever I was before, or worse, shattered only to have my pieces scattered to the wind.

I can't even remember the last time I spoke, my throat tight with the grief I refuse to release.

Mother stands, placing her mending next to her chair and picking up a pitcher of ice water. She makes her way over to me, and I ignore her, eyes drawn to some invisible object in the distance, not even blinking.

"Ilah, dear," she tries, reaching out with one hand to stroke my hair. "You need to drink something."

I don't react, remaining still.

Mother sighs and carefully tips my head back, pulling my chin down to open my mouth, and she pours the freezing water down my throat in slow little streams. When the pitcher is empty, she moves my head back down, and backs away.

I don't know how much more time passes, but eventually I sense two figures approaching.

"Has she responded at all, Rose?" I hear Gaian's deep voice say with concern.

"No, Gaian." Mother sounds extremely worried. "I poured some water down her throat, but she didn't even react to that."

"We have to get some food in her somehow," my uncle sighs, "But it might just take some time. She's in shock... And by retreating like this, she doesn't have to face the truth... Own up to her grief."

I hear a loud grumble.

"She's not much use to us in that state," Ikon grumbles. "Who's gonna hunt for us?"

I hear a loud whack, and Ikon hisses.

"I have an idea, though... I'll be back," Gaian says decisively., and the world goes quiet again.

The next I'm aware of, the mattress dips slightly underneath me as someone sits next to me. They don't speak for a while.

"So, how are you, Ilah?" says the warm rich voice. "I understand you're not feeling to well. Fellon and your uncle are quite worried about you, so I decided to come down and have a pleasant conversation with you."

Morgrove barely pauses. "I heard how brave you were at Shadoun... You're a hero around here. All of you are, even Jeggar. His body has been brought back and they are going honor him with a hero's memorial."

I don't react.

"Listen, dear," Morgrove says softly, "I know you mourn for Jeggar, but this isn't the way! The entire village is mourning for him, but we are coming together to comfort each other as Biawood does! It's what we all do!"

I continue to stare into the distance, but after a second, I turn my head towards him, and for the first time since our return, I am actually seeing again.

I cough, trying to open my mouth to speak, but my throat is extremely dry. Seeing my struggle, Morgrove hands me a tin cup of water. I gulp it down eagerly, my fingers stiff from not having moved them in so long as I curl them around the cup.

"Jeggar shouldn't have died," I say coldly, gazing at the old man next to me.

"Perhaps," he says, thoughtful. "But should anyone?"