Goddess Episode Eight

The Overlord Goddess Murdered Us
Author: J Carrell Jones
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Episode Eight

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Episode 8

Aruqu stood in front of the large vertical window overlooking the Temple courtyard. She watched the small figure of Yahen cross from the main gate to the Temple doors below. She was too high up, 100 meters, for him to see her, but she saw him. Dejected and lost. She knew what happened at Foxtail. It pained her that her Beloved was suffering, but she vowed to keep her distance and not interfere with his life.

Dawher, the Second Temple Goddess, walked up to Adruqu and bowed. "Mother Goddess, Yahen, fulfilled the quest."
Adruqu, still looking out at the courtyard, nodded. "Dawher, my daughter, what do you think of my infatuation with Yahen?"
Dawher smiled. "I think it's adorable, Mother. A woman of your age --" She laughed lightly.
"You don't think it destructive?"
"What can destroy you? I know he is not your Sean, but you want him to be?"
Adruqu turned around. "I thought I did, but I feel I may never have my own personal Sean. My true Beloved is uniquely possible because of his circumstances. I should know that, yet, I was hoping his soul would transcend to this one."
"It did, Mother. It did, but this is an age of superstition and fanatism. Yahen is what he is meant to be."
Adruqu knew it. She nodded.
"Mother," Dawher said, "may I have him?"
Adruqu eyed her second daughter. "And do what with him?"
"Love him, of course."
"And?"
"Make him my own. I can see he is a disappointment to you. Let him be my disappointment. I have no defined attachments to your Beloved, so I will not be constrained."
Adruqu stood motionless. She was feeling guilty - almost. "Will he survive?"
Dawher smiled. "Live, die, reborn, repeat, Mother."
Aqruqu nodded, leaned into her daughter, and kissed her forehead. "He is yours, my daughter. I shall not interfere." She started walking away. "I'm going to leave Sister-five in charge. Treat her as if it were I."
Dawher nodded and softly laughed. "How else are we to treat her? She is you."
Adruqu's form faded across the vast temple floor to the main exit. She was going to visit her Sean, her true Beloved. The mortal human who conquered her hundred thousand-year-old heart. The man who had complete power over her. The man who would someday be the most powerful being in the galaxy.


Yahen entered through the great Temple doors. He climbed the many stone stairs to the massive solid black oak doors that stood ten meters tall. Once inside, he crossed the long length of polished marble tiles to the eternal flame of the Goddess. The flame, 10 meters tall, glowed a bright blue and danced over a gold plate. He knelt. "My Goddess, I am weak of heart. I need you to guide me. Show me a sign. Show me I can have strength again. Show me I -- please show me I am favored."
Dawher approached Yahen. She waited for him to finish and as he stood she stepped closer.
He saw her and bowed deeply.
"Yahen, my child, I see into your heart."
Yahen lifted his head. "Goddess Dawher."
"Stand please and come with me.
He followed her to the meeting area and through an entryway meant for staff. She guided him through several room entries and hallways to a section of the Temple he knew existed but never thought to have entered. The personal chambers of the Goddesses. After several more minutes, she touched the side of a metal door. It slid open. She grabbed his hand and walked in. It was her room. Her personal space. Yahen swallowed hard.
"Yahen, my love. Please sit down." She pointed to a large beige sofa in front of a fireplace. He walked passed a large canopy bed on the left and a large black wood dining table on the right. He saw a glass desk further right with some sort of glass panel on top of it. A large monitor hung over the fireplace with a lit fire. Its yellow-orange flames emerged from a pile of burning Trent wood. She sat down next to him, making sure to give him space. "Would you like something to drink? Yahen, stunned, remained wide-eyed and silent. Dawher smiled. "Of course you are. You had a long journey and betrayal can leave one's throat parched."

• work in progress

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