Gaerra was running for her life.

She had been raised on the fact that any creature with a brain can be manipulated with the blessing of mind. It was more tricky with people, but with animals, even an elven child who just learned to speak could control them with ease. So why couldn’t her magic work on these wolves? She never encountered anything like them. Gaerra tried to bend their minds to her will, but as soon as her magic touched them, the wolves melted into the shadows and quickly jumped out, fangs bared. Sylvar and Bronson fended them off, and Gaerra cursed herself for not being more proficient in the more offensive aspects of the blessing of mind. She turned to see the Mage placing a strange mark on Yoviene, and the woman went mad. Bronson saw her freaking out and rushed over to help her. He had grabbed her shoulders and tried to speak with her, but Yoviene screamed and stabbed him. Yoviene was lucid for only a moment to see her friend’s blood on her hands. The woman screeched and thrashed around before Sylvar knocked her out. Gaerra tried to undo whatever the black-robed demon had cast on Yoviene quickly, but nothing worked. She wanted to stay and study what was going on with Yoviene, but the growling creeping closer prevented her.

Gaerra picked up Yoviene, and Sylvar picked up the heavy Bronson. Gaerra felt Sylvar using his blessing to convince his mind that he was a little bit stronger than he actually was. The two ran as fast as they could away from the wolves. Neither of the elves could sense the Mage's void-like presence, and both prayed that he wouldn’t follow them as well.

The two ran for what felt like an eternity. The shadowy creatures followed just behind, never going in for the kill. From both sides of the elves, the wolves leaped to and fro in the darkness as if they were playing with them. Waiting for them to become tired and collapse. The barking and growling from the wolves were driving Gaerra insane. How low she had fallen to be in a forest of evil, being chased by wolves that were half-shadow! Thoughts of her former life of luxury teased her mind. Of being joined with the minds of her family, friends, townsfolk. The joy of never being in danger, to never be alone, to know no fear. Only the bliss of being of one-No. I left for a reason. Gaerra thought to herself, not caring if Sylvar heard her.

What’s happening now isn’t as worst as that hellhole.

She felt something sharp at her heel. A wolf had noticed Gaerra slowed down and nipped at the back of her feet. Fatigue was consuming her body. The elven woman sped up with all her might, but her muscles screamed for her to stop, but her mind screamed back no. Gaerra reached with the little energy she had left into Sylvar mind, but it was a jumble of obscenities and half-hearted self-motivation.

The two were on the verge of giving up.

Then they heard it. A woman’s voice singing in the distance. It was alluring and harrowing. Neither of them could understand what language of the song. However, deep down, Gaerra and Sylvar knew the song was about them. It was lamenting them, taunting them, and celebrating them all at once. They found their bodies were seduced by the voice, despite their minds telling them to keep running.

Is the woman using a spell to entice us? Gaerra thought.

No. It feels more… primal. Sylvar had responded, feeling a bit of energy come back to make his thoughts clear.

They continued running until they came upon a clearing with a small pond. Gaerra and Sylvar stopped as soon as they entered. They saw the singer sitting on the ground, tracing in the pond with her hand while she sang. The elves were stunned by her beauty. She wore a dress made of flowers: long white lily petals made up the bodice, and the lower part was a mix of peonies and daises formed perfectly together. Her eyes were bright green, and the woman’s olive skin had a soft golden glow to it. The woman smiled at Gaerra and Sylvar as they continued to stare at her. The wolves paced around the edge of the clearing, growling menacingly. The woman stopped singing and got up and looked at the corrupted creatures.

“Shoo.” She said, waving her hand. The woman spoke calmly, without maliciousness nor benevolence. There was an authority in her voice that sent chills through Gaerra and Sylvar. The wolves bowed their heads and whimpered as they scampered off, ears lowered and tail between their legs.

The woman looked back at Gaerra and Sylvar and approached them.

“Wh-who are you?” Gaerra asked as the woman got closer and closer.

“I am the one that watches over and tends to the cycle of life. One of the oldest Gods of this world.”

“Minthea.” Sylvar declared.

The goddess nodded.

Upon realizing who she was, Gaerra took the unconscious Yoviene off her shoulders and held her in her arms, “Please, you have to help us! The Mage placed some curse on our leader, and she stabbed our friend. Please, I don't want them to die!” Gaerra pleaded. Sylvar placed Bronson on the ground at this point, the man had become pale, and his breathing was becoming increasingly shallow.

Minthea looked at the two bodies before her. She gave a pitiful look at Bronson and said, “Yes...Yes, his time has not yet come. Healing him is of no consequence.” Minthea placed a hand over the wound in his chest. His body became enveloped in a golden light. In a matter of seconds, the color had returned to Bronson's face, and the wound and blood that stained his clothes and the ground were gone. He was still unconscious, however.

“He will wake up soon,” Minthea said calmly before turning to examine Yoviene.

For just a moment, Gaerra spotted a hint of annoyance on the goddess’s serene face,

“…That little…”

“Did you say something, lady Minthea?” Gaerra asked. The temptation to try to look into the goddess’ mind badgered her, but like the Mage, she somehow knew Minthea would be able to tell that she was peering inside.

“I said how sad it is that the Mage has used such ancient, forbidden magic on this poor soul,” Minthea said, quickly returning to her tranquil demeanor.

“Unfortunately, not even I can remove this. These runes are deviations from the languages of the gods. Our words are absolute and cannot be erased. The magic will have to run its course. Worry not, she will not die, but I can only imagine the horrors she’s going through in her mind.” Minthea said, running a hand over Yoviene’s head where the mark was.

The goddess pursed her lips together and whistled. A giant bird, with black feathers speckled with bits of white, swooped down from the sky. Minthea held an arm out, and the animal perched on it, its claws not bothering the goddess or piercing her skin.

“Darlocke, be a dear and watch over these mortals for a while until the rune is gone from that woman.” She said sweetly to the animal, gently petting its head. The bird gave an affirmative squawk before flying back into the air. Gaerra and Sylvar were amazed to see it turn into a large ball of light as it left the clearing. Darting into the sky above and dispersing into tiny stars forming into a constellation.“While I did say that the rune cannot be dispelled, Darlocke can help mitigate the effect when I leave. She should be lucid when she awakens.” Minthea declared. “Also, the animals in the forest can get quite restless when outsiders come, but I trust you two will be able to handle them without my assistance?” She asked, and the two nodded silently.

What a strange night it had been for the adventurers to encounter both a demon and a goddess! Anyone would want to bow down before Minthea and worship her and offer praise at the miracle she had performed in quickly healing Bronson and leaving her familiar behind to watch over them. But Sylvar liked to push his luck.

“Excuse me, you’re divine lady Minthea,” Sylvar began in a snarky tone.

“Yes?” If Minthea caught the man’s insolence, she didn’t show it.

“Thank you for helping us with our friends, but I have one more request for you. Can you stop the Mage for us?”

Gaerra was about to scold Sylvar, Minthea had already healed Bronson, and he wanted more from a goddess? But something nagged at her; there was something else they should be asking.

Minthea made eye contact with Sylvar, she was about the same height as him, and gave a quick laugh before responding, “No.”

Something was off, and then Gaerra remembered the story the elder had told them earlier, “Then why are you here? Shouldn’t you want to reclaim the land that was stolen from you?” Gaerra asked the goddess.

Once again, there was a flash of annoyance on Minthea’s face, this time directed at Gaerra. The elven woman tensed and the intense desire of wanting to curl up and cry like a child infected her mind. When Minthea smiled again, Gaerra felt relieved.

“I have no intention of stopping him, but you and your friends are welcome to try again once they’re awake,” Minthea said calmly.

“But isn’t this your land? If you’re here, why can’t you stop him yourself?” Sylvar asked, confused.

“I don’t need to explain myself to you,” Minthea responding curtly, and feelings of dread passed through Sylvar as the Goddess stared at him. Seconds passed slowly as Minthea looked at him and then Gaerra, a twinkle of mischievousness in her eyes.

Both of them felt the urge to run or cower in that those seconds stretching into eternity, but their feet remained where they were.

“Alas! My time here is almost over; it will be dawn soon! Before I go, I have a gift to bestow the two of you.” Minthea said to the two elves as she slowly approached them with neither maliciousness nor benevolence on her face.

“A gift?” Gaerra whispered.

“I don’t think we need it,” Sylvar said through clenched teeth as Minthea encroached closer to them.

“Nonsense!” The goddess said playfully as her delicate and cold hands traveled up Gaerra and Sylvar’s arms and underneath their clothes, touching the smooth skin on their shoulders.

“It’s a wonderful gift for two ‘lost’ children of Flyndova such as yourselves. A secret, a true secret that even she cannot see.” Minthea started to draw a symbol on both of their shoulders. There was a burning sensation they felt that was both soothing and agonizing. The two elves felt in their minds that something was different about them, but they couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was.

“What did you do to us!?” Gaerra asked fearfully.

“You’ll understand what I did in time. This is only a precaution. I can’t have that little snake catching on to what’s really going on here. She’ll only warn the others, and they’ll end up giving me a bigger headache than usual.” Minthea said, mumbling those last words to herself, uncaring if the elves heard her or not.

The goddess walked past them to leave the clearing, leaving the two elves in shock as they watched her.

“Farewell and good luck,” Minthea chuckled as she left, not bothering to look back as she faded into the shadows of the forest.

****

Meisla took a deep breath and opened her eyes. She held Gaerra’s hands as the women slowly opened her own exhausted eyes.

“You actually saw Minthea!” Meisla exclaimed with amazement for not only seeing what the goddess actually looked like but at feeling what Gaerra felt at the time, all of the elf’s emotions and thoughts. Then she remembered what the Goddess had done to them.

“Did you figure out what that mark is doing to you?” She asked, letting go of Gaerra’s hands.

Gaerra shook her head, “It must be part of the rune Minthea placed on us, but it's hard to speak about exactly what happened. I must admit, it was a struggle to bring all the pieces of memory together and show you. I can barely hold it in my mind. It seems Minthea doesn’t want the other gods to know about the Mage. Or that she has any involvement. I think once the spell has run its course; I’ll remember things differently.”

“Maybe, she’s embarrassed that the Mage defeated her and wanted to make it seem like a local legend?” Meisla theorized.

“I can’t say with certainty, but the Mage might have answers for us,” Gaerra said before looking at the sky. She saw the night became a little bright, and they heard the insects surrounding the clearing quiet down.

“It'll be dawn soon! I’m so sorry, Meisla; we can talk about this later after you get some rest.” Gaerra said as she stood up and stretched.

Meisla nodded and got up as well,” Thanks for letting me see what happened. We’ll figure this out. I promise you.” The girl said with determined eyes.

“Thank you. I’m glad I was able to show it to someone else.” Gaerra smiled.

The two went off two their respective tents and went to get what little rest they could. Meisla was eager to start the new day, ready to tackle the forest's mysteries and to cure her village, with the new hope that Minthea would appear before her. As Gaerra laid down in her tent, apprehension laced her heart. What would a goddess want to keep hidden in the forest?