Post by Kore on Aug 29, 2017 20:06:48 GMT -8
Dare to dream
To Become a God
“We’re not going, Serana. You’ll find no volunteers here. All sick already, except me anyway, and I have to care for them.”
The tall crooked figure in black robes sighs. She shakes her head. “Someone has to go.”
“Do it yourself.” And another door slammed in their faces.
Kore looked at her companion, and harrumphed. “Surprise surprise. Nobody wants to go to their deaths.”
“Sh- Ugh. Be quiet. No one asked you.” Serana started, sputtering her dismissal. “Come on.” She snaps, and hobbles away from the door. Her steps and breathing both seem more labored than usual, and as her guardian, Kore would know. She pulled her water skin from its place on her hip, and whistled sharply. “What?” The old woman growls.
“You’re going to have an attack, aunt. Sit down a moment. The next refusal can wait for you to regain your breath.”
The old woman snatched the water from Kore’s hands, and scowls at her as she looks for a nearby rock.
The war had made things even more difficult. Worshiping the wrong diety was not only frowned on, it was punishable by death. There was one safe answer. Arceus. The
Creator. He neither encouraged nor dissuaded the rest of his pantheon from their squabbles, preferring to preside over the scene as though he were observing an art piece. Still, there were great blessings to be had, should one curry his favor… So they said.
Turloin village was not so lucky. To its unfortunate inhabitants, so very close to the war zones that armies stumbled through and the occasional petulant retreat, it seemed that any allegiance was condemning. Among its other troubles, there was a plague. Strength had been bled from Turloin village till all that was left were the weakest, and the most self serving.
Kore held the water out to the old woman, who scowled as she snatched it. “The next refusal will send us back to the council. It’s the last house.”
Kore grimaced. “They’ll just have us canvas again.”
“And again until someone agrees… or they get the votes to implement a raffle.”
“Couldn’t pay me enough to participate in one of those.” She muttered.
“I could if your baby was sick, what with the cost of medicine and food being what they are.”
“That’s why I don’t have children.“ She proclaimed, wearing the declaration like a badge of honor.
“That and Nobody will have you!” Serana cackles.
With a dark scowl, Kore shrugged the comment off. “There are only two bakers, a blacksmith, and a farm hand left unmarried and alive, left in the village, and a quarter of those are sick. Slim pickings don’t make strong children, and I won’t have less.”
“And less won’t have you either. It isn’t right, a woman and a sword.”
“You make use of my skills with few enough qualms. Drink the damn water, and let’s go tell the other cowards that nobody is brave enough to step foot out of this pathetic little town.” She says, folding her arms. “Maybe I should go, and leave you at the mercy of whatever rolls through to decimate you next.”
If Kore had been watching, she’d have seen a gleam in the old woman’s eyes. Less hope than ruthlessness. “Go then.” She growled. “Go ‘save’ us, Kore. We’re damned either way, it seems.”
Kore turned around, grinning. “Right you are, but I might be able to buy you some time.”
To Become a God
“We’re not going, Serana. You’ll find no volunteers here. All sick already, except me anyway, and I have to care for them.”
The tall crooked figure in black robes sighs. She shakes her head. “Someone has to go.”
“Do it yourself.” And another door slammed in their faces.
Kore looked at her companion, and harrumphed. “Surprise surprise. Nobody wants to go to their deaths.”
“Sh- Ugh. Be quiet. No one asked you.” Serana started, sputtering her dismissal. “Come on.” She snaps, and hobbles away from the door. Her steps and breathing both seem more labored than usual, and as her guardian, Kore would know. She pulled her water skin from its place on her hip, and whistled sharply. “What?” The old woman growls.
“You’re going to have an attack, aunt. Sit down a moment. The next refusal can wait for you to regain your breath.”
The old woman snatched the water from Kore’s hands, and scowls at her as she looks for a nearby rock.
The war had made things even more difficult. Worshiping the wrong diety was not only frowned on, it was punishable by death. There was one safe answer. Arceus. The
Creator. He neither encouraged nor dissuaded the rest of his pantheon from their squabbles, preferring to preside over the scene as though he were observing an art piece. Still, there were great blessings to be had, should one curry his favor… So they said.
Turloin village was not so lucky. To its unfortunate inhabitants, so very close to the war zones that armies stumbled through and the occasional petulant retreat, it seemed that any allegiance was condemning. Among its other troubles, there was a plague. Strength had been bled from Turloin village till all that was left were the weakest, and the most self serving.
Kore held the water out to the old woman, who scowled as she snatched it. “The next refusal will send us back to the council. It’s the last house.”
Kore grimaced. “They’ll just have us canvas again.”
“And again until someone agrees… or they get the votes to implement a raffle.”
“Couldn’t pay me enough to participate in one of those.” She muttered.
“I could if your baby was sick, what with the cost of medicine and food being what they are.”
“That’s why I don’t have children.“ She proclaimed, wearing the declaration like a badge of honor.
“That and Nobody will have you!” Serana cackles.
With a dark scowl, Kore shrugged the comment off. “There are only two bakers, a blacksmith, and a farm hand left unmarried and alive, left in the village, and a quarter of those are sick. Slim pickings don’t make strong children, and I won’t have less.”
“And less won’t have you either. It isn’t right, a woman and a sword.”
“You make use of my skills with few enough qualms. Drink the damn water, and let’s go tell the other cowards that nobody is brave enough to step foot out of this pathetic little town.” She says, folding her arms. “Maybe I should go, and leave you at the mercy of whatever rolls through to decimate you next.”
If Kore had been watching, she’d have seen a gleam in the old woman’s eyes. Less hope than ruthlessness. “Go then.” She growled. “Go ‘save’ us, Kore. We’re damned either way, it seems.”
Kore turned around, grinning. “Right you are, but I might be able to buy you some time.”