Baeto

Chapter Six

 My thin sandals allow every pebble under my foot to be felt. Each stone I fail to balance on succeeds in nearly toppling me over. The war taints my peripheral with its bloody scenes, but overall I'm left in silence. The cannons seem strangely distant, the wind uncannily silent, and I am left alone with my thunderous thoughts.

I don't know what to do or where to go, so I walk to the only place that seems reasonable, the town square. The statue of the child goddess, Venia, stands in its domineering brilliance. The statue stands almost seventy feet tall, stretching far above the buildings it neighbors.

As beautiful as the statue is, the ground it stands on is that out of a horror story. More than a hundred life-sized statues litter the floor. Each one is kneeling, arms crossed against its chest. As I study them I recognize which ones are the newest. Their stony skin still has a faint color to it, rather than the hard, cracking gray of the oldest. I walk slowly, studying the faces of the statues.

Then, I see them. My mothers copper hair turned a light silver shade. My father's blonde hair appearing almost white. The details of their youthful faces are so clear, their eyes softly closed, their mouths at peace. I kneel before them, trying to understand how they could have believed in Venia so strongly that she would save us, to risk eternity encased in stone.

I reach my hand towards their faces, a translucent sphere appears around them, blocking my touch. A curse escapes my lips and I make another futile attempt to reach them, if I can touch them maybe they'll wake up from this trance, the color will return, they can be my parents again.

When I fail I look back up at the statue. The painted bronze of the goddess's cherry eyes stare forward, off into the distance, to some fantastical world where justice is always served, a world with perfect peace and equality. I know what to do next. How I could get the goddess's attention. But every fiber in my body fights it. I kneel with my family members, cross my arms, and begin to close my eyes.

Before I can finish the action a pleading, desperate voice calls out, "Wait!"

I look up and see her. A young girl with dark skin and pink hair, standing with her maroon dress cloaked by rags, almost hiding all her features, stands no more than five yards away.

"Please, don't do that. We need your help." Her voice is just as desperate but seems more composed now, the panic lessening after I lower my arms, and stand.

The girl steps towards me and she's undoubtedly Venia, the child goddess of justice, innocence, equality, forgiveness, and a presumed daughter of Pax, deity of peace.

She fills me with absolute hatred for every detail, between the calmness of her eyes and the hushed lightness of her voice. "Hurry. Follow me."

She turns and starts to run off away from the city towards the elven woods neighboring us. I struggle to keep pace with her as she glides across the stone pavement in an almost... godly... way. It's odd to be in the presence of someone like her. Each move is deliberate, planned, but graceful all the way. She moves in a gazelle-like fashion, almost as if she's dancing to her next destination, I suppose that's what centuries of youth does to you.

We reach the edge of the woods, I can hear distant voices inside, proof of the civilization inhabiting inside.

"I can't go in there. I'll be killed." I say, eying the trees.

Venia turns toward me and fumbles through her cloak. She whips out two vials of some green concoction and hands them both to me. "It's an illusion potion. I bought it from some mage in Numina."

I stare down at the vials.

"It'll last three hours and will trick the elvish people into thinking you're one of them." She pauses, noticing my hesitation. "You're supposed to drink it."