The Last Goddess

Chapter One Hundred Forty-Four: Brisa

Samara

It felt like the stairs were endless. Every step left me sore and mildly breathless. I couldn't even appreciate the silver spiral steps or the pale colorful swirls mimicking the desert outside. The only thing that kept me going was the occasional light push from Aryan's warm hand and my determination to see this through.

Two sylphs watched us from the middle of the spiral staircase—floating daintily. They were twins, from the look of it. Almond eyed and curious. They wore leather tights that scrunched against their bare ankles, and light linen sleeveless tunics that were belted off around their midriffs. The main difference between the pair was that they each had a side ponytail on the opposite side from each other.

After several minutes we made it to the top, and before we could walk through the only door in sight, the twin sylphs stopped us. They talked in unison which made my head ache even more. "Wait," they insisted. "You must be cleansed before you can see our mistress."

"Are you stupid?" Aryan spat. "Callum is just outside trying to break in. You really think Gale gives a damn about being cleansed."

They looked cluelessly puzzled. The twin with the left side ponytail stuck half her body out the large open window nearby. "Ahh," she pulled herself back in. "Callum is about to break Gale's barrier."

"Fine." Her sister said, pulling out a slice of familiar fruit and two warm cloths from a tray on a nearby cart. "Eat and at least wipe your hands."

Aryan grumbled, but I put the cloth in his hands and the slice of persimmon in his mouth. He flinched, groaning slightly as some of his wounds began to heal.

I followed suit but noticed that the healing fruit did not fully fix me. It made me less sore... everywhere, but I still felt fatigued. But I had to push through it. I swiftly wiped as much of the grime and sand from my face and hands as I could, but it was still pretty evident that the two of us were filthy.

The twins, feeling satisfied, finally opened the door and let us in. The second they did, all we felt was the cooling breeze of the desert air. We peered through the room to find that we had a perfect view of the Pastel Desert and the evening sky. The entirety of the back wall was removed, and the room was empty save for the goddess of wind, herself. Torches surrounded her and the stone slab she laid on.

I watched Brisa's unmoving form. She looked so... alive. They all did. Her wild curls of strawberry blonde hair were splayed along the hard bed. Her freckles popped against her tanned skin, and her outfit reminded me of an adventurer's uniform—all neutral tones and linens like that of an explorer or old school archaeologist. It rather suited her. From what I could recall of my dreamwalk, she was spontaneous and exciting. She was the one who saw things through.

And now it was my turn.

I touched her hand, feeling drawn to do so, and before I could think of what to do next, I felt the air being sucked away from me. I gasped, trying to breathe, but unable to. My lungs burned, my heart pounded violently as my eyes teared up until my vision was blurred, and I fell to my knees—still clutching her hand. However, her grip tightened when mine loosened.

The flames around the room extinguished. I barely felt the torrential winds thrashing my hair into my face like a whip. Everything was a loud hum of nothingness—like someone pounding on a distant door. All I could do was try to stay conscious, but the lack of air was making it difficult. Something wet ran down my cheeks. I wiped at it, trying to shove the tears away so I could finish what I started, but it wasn't water. Blood stained my face. My vision turned red, but I could still make out the fluttering of Brisa's long lashes. I could still see her dark eyes watching me. The goddess of wind rubbed her thumb against my palm, and instantly, I could breathe. She opened her lips to speak. They were plump and pink and resolute.

But I never heard what she said. The turbulent breeze still whirled around us loudly. It seemed unsettled yet excited. Its mistress had returned, but wasn't yet able to reign it in.

Someone gripped my shoulder, I turned, thinking it was Aryan, but instead, I gazed into the ragingly confused sapphire orbs of Callum. The god of flight shoved me. He pushed until I was well away from Brisa's side. But I wasn't able to keep myself steady. I couldn't withstand the wind. The same force of nature that I controlled until moments ago now couldn't care less for me.

Its vortex swept me up and out of the room. I flew towards the open wall and into the twilight. My vision briefly saw the commotion in Brisa's chamber. Aryan was fighting off one of Callum's Jauni. The sylphs were fluttering between Brisa's side and pulling the hummingbird off of my familiar, and the goddess of wind... Her weak hand reached towards me, agony aglow on her awakening features.

Good. I thought. She's awake.