Coronus gazed over the world from atop his throne in the afternoon. His single blazing eye scorched the ground as he scanned the land looking for the weak and foolish, looking for those that should be purged from the earth. On that day, just as all the other days, he found many that would not survive until he rested in his bed below the horizon. On that day, the young girl Vantaiga was one such soul.
She stumbled along a rocky path on the side of a steep, barren mountain. Her only company was an occasional dry, scraggly bush and the buzz of unseen insects hiding from the sun. She carried two clay jugs full of water yoked by a rough tree branch over her shoulders. Occasionally, her stumbles would splash water onto the jagged tan-coloured stones of the path.
She had long given up cursing her mother for not allowing her to take the light, sealable water skins. The skins were too valuable to lose, and both Vantaiga and her mother knew she was not meant to return from her fool’s errand. Coronus glared down on the tiring girl; he knew as well.
She breathed heavily from the stifling heat and burden, conscious thought fading from her mind. She focused on the distant end of the path at the base of the mountain shimmering in the scorching gaze of Coronus. She moved by delirium and will alone, forcing herself forward by chanting in her head for one more step, one more step towards home, one more step to prove to her mother she wasn’t weak.
All other thoughts were pushed from her mind. She did not heed the burning sun on her head. She did not heed the weight of the jugs or the branch that bit into her shoulders. She did not heed the pain and knots tightening in her back. She did not heed the warning hiss of a snake before it sunk its dripping fangs into her foot.
Vantaiga’s thoughts remained on the path and on home. She was only vaguely aware that her foot no longer ached, and weakness crawled up her leg. She forced herself for one more step, one more step towards home. A growing awareness that her journey was coming to an end intruded on the girl’s trance. A sickened smile crossed her dry lips. She was more than halfway home. She was certain her mother never expected her to make it so far.
Venom and fatigue finally overwhelmed Vantaiga’s remaining strength. She dropped the jugs and stumbled to the right, her leg no longer willing to obey her commands. Her mouth too parched to speak, she pleaded in her mind. She pleaded for her leg to move, to take just one more step.
The leg did not listen to the young girl and crumpled beneath her. Vantaiga slipped off the edge of the path and fell down the steep side of the mountain. As she tumbled, each rock she encountered pummelled into her, giving her rattling reminders that there was no place for the weak in this world; there was no place for her in this world.
Vantaiga finally rolled to a stop; she lay in a heap among the rocks at the foot of the mountain, all but her breath battered from her. She made a futile gesture to lift herself; it only came as a shifting of her hand. It was all she could manage to show to Coronus that she deserved to live. Unmoved, Coronus continued to glare at the young girl. Why should he show her mercy out of the countless souls he would claim that day? The venom that slowly numbed the girl’s tattered body was more than enough mercy for her.
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
In the skies above, Hydar had been watching the valiant yet hopeless efforts of the girl. His thin, cirrus form collected into a grey cloud to stand before Coronus, allowing Silhlotte, the God of Shadows, to cover the body of the expiring child.
Hydar’s words were wispy but clear, like the sound of rain approaching from afar. “Why do you torment this one?”
Coronus sneered at him. “I torment this one no more than the others. If she is too weak to rise, then she deserves to die where she falls.”
“But this one already suffers at the hands of others.”
Coronus laughed with the sound of a raging fire. “Many suffer at the hands of others in our world. Hydar, you betray yourself. What is this insignificant thing to you?”
“This one is different. There are many that pray for my rains to come. But this one does not pray, yet she dances for me when I arrive. No one dances anymore. I want to see if she will still dance when she is a woman.”
“Then satisfy your curiosity and save her yourself. Do not bother me with your whims. I have many souls to collect today. This one means nothing to me if she dies. She also means nothing to me if she lives.”
Hydar darkened into a storm cloud. His rain fell onto the girl, soothing her bruises and quenching her dry skin. Through her delirium, Vantaiga could see Hydar’s form in the dancing spray of the heavy raindrops on the stones about her. Hydar raised a finger to his lips, and with the sound of hissing rain, he whispered, “Our secret.”
In a flash, a lightning bolt crashed into the mountainside just above Vantaiga, deafening and blinding the young girl.
Dumbfounded, Vantaiga lay there, her body still numb from the venom. When her eyes cleared enough to be able to see, the rain had stopped, and Hydar was gone. Her only company was Coronus, watching her and waiting to see what she would do next. Vantaiga could only shift her head to drink the water in the growing puddle forming round her. It relieved her parched mouth and cleared her head.
She rested her face into the cool water as the puddle continued to build. Vantaiga slowly became aware that something was not right. The rain had stopped, yet the water of the puddle continued to rise. It rose till it reached Vantaiga’s gasping mouth and flowed into her lungs.
With a violent rack of coughing, Vantaiga lurched up from the water. Her numbness was not enough to cover the pain of her muscles as they convulsed the water out. The young girl was caught between crying in pain and gagging to empty her lungs. With awkward jerks of her paralysed limbs, she managed to drag her head from the puddle that continued to grow.
Vantaiga stared in wonder as the small pool crested a lip and trickled its way along the ground. While she watched, the ringing in her ears subsided, and she became aware of a playful babble of water running over rocks. She twisted herself over. In the side of the mountain, still smouldering from the lightning bolt, a small spring had been blasted free of the rock. The clear water sparkled as it washed over the stones into the puddle around her.
Vantaiga shuffled her battered body to the spring. Its cool water gave her relief from Coronus’s judgement. The young girl smiled and fell asleep next to the spring with thoughts of her mother’s disappointment that the gods would not be taking her away after all.
***
Three days later, Vantaiga crossed the rise before her family’s house. Her tattered clothes and black and yellow bruises made her look more like a ghoul than a child. She shuffled towards the house with the jugs of water again lifted onto her shoulders. A smile crossed her face as she thought of home and the supper she was owed. Lack of food and the day’s heat made her sway from weariness, but a sense of pride filled her as she made her last steps.
Upon her arrival to the house, her mother was just as harsh as ever and scolded the girl for almost making them lose two perfectly good jugs. Despite the reprimand, the starving young girl was fed a good meal. Vantaiga even thought she caught a word or two of pride for surviving from the callous woman. To Vantaiga, though, her mother’s elusive praise and abundant admonishments didn’t matter. She had proven she was strong enough to survive, and the gods had decided her life was worth living after all.