When I Met You On Land

Chapter 7: Palina's Revelation

Not bad, Lakhires thought. The young Elvosir had taken him to the room he'd be staying in while he tries to make peace.
He put down his satchel, and looked around. Branches intertwined with each other to create solid walls and flooring, while fresh green leaves made up the ceiling. Little golden fireflies twinkled in the leaves, offering light in exchange for shelter.
A bed of soft linen with green dyed pillows sat near a window. Gauzy curtains separated it from the rest of the room. A bookshelf lined a corner, with a desk with its back facing a large full-sized window.
Lakhires had his mouth open in awe. The room was one of the most beautiful he'd ever seen. If he had a choice, he would have definitely chosen to be an Earth god. Or he would still be an Air god, since he wouldn't know how the bedrooms are like.
"Rest now," said the Elvosir. "A heavy schedule for you tomorrow. First, breakfast in the gardens with Hemathea."
He blinked. "Who's Hemathea?"
"The goddess whom you've talked to earlier," she replied.
Oh. So that's her name. Lakhires sat down on the bed. "I suppose you're dismissed," he said to the elf.
She bowed, and left the room.
Once he was alone, he got changed into something more comfortable. A green tunic and a fresh loincloth replaced his mortal disguise. After that, he climbed into his gauze-curtained bed and rested.

~~~

Morgendas huffed and puffed, as he dragged the demigod and the goddess to the Earthen realm. He now travelled through the tunnel that connected his potter's workshop to the realm.
I've found the unclaimed demigod, he thought. A daughter of Hemathea.
He reached the Rolling Hills. As he looked at them, he dropped the two. He needed his strength to drag them all the way to Terran Palace.
He slid against the rocky walls of the cave, and rested. He looked at them. Is it really them? He thought.
A few minutes passed, and his strength came back. His form morphed into his divine form, which made him look a lot less disfigured than he is in his potter's disguise.
Laying the demigod across his shoulders, he hauled them to Terran Palace. As usual, he took a boat ride along the Genesis River, the river which the Earthen realm was built open. It did not belong to the Water gods' domain, since it was specially for the Earthen.
He greeted the guards at the doorway, and took them inside. They were still unconscious, fortunately.
A guard opened the grand oak doors to the throne room, and let him in.
"Morgendas," said Feonus. "What have you brought us?" He looked at the two forms dragged behind Mo.
"Lord Feonus, here I have Klyamone, goddess of the isles. And the young one is who I feel is a daughter of Hemathea, goddess of agriculture."
A blonde goddess seated on a throne at the right gasped. It's been a while since I've seen them. My daughters.
"Take the girl to a guest suite," she said. "And the goddess... take her to the dungeons. She could be a threat, part of her being from here. We don't know her motives, so we'll question her later."
Morgendas bowed, these gods having higher authority than he did. With a snap of his fingers, a guard came to take Klyamone to the dungeons, and an Elvosir to take Palina to her guest room.

~~~

At least three hours passed. Palina woke up in a room made of intertwined branches. She laid on the softest bed she had ever laid on. She sat up, and observed the strange room. Soft sheets. A full-length window. Her ratty clothes were now replaced with an olive green nightdress, which matched her tanned skin perfectly. And just what seemed to a few hours ago, she was a runaway.
For six years, she had been making the best of what she had, which wasn't much. She remembered the rough work she did for shelter and loose change, all because her uncle threw her out of the house she was supposed to inherit in 3 years.
The sweeping of a curtain shocked her, breaking the silence. A pale woman with blonde hair swept into the room, her hair done in an intricate braided bun and clad in green robes. "Palina, glad to see you awake."
"W-who are you?" Palina stared at the woman who had just come in. There was a sense of familiarity about her, though she couldn't put a finger on it.
"Why..." she said. "I'm your mother."
"Can't be," Palina stuttered. "My mother died at childbirth."
"Not all things are as you are told," the woman replied. "That was a lie your deceased father told you to keep you safe. I am Hemathea, goddess of agriculture."
Hemathea sat beside the girl, and caressed her. Her embrace was warm, filling Palina with a honey-like feeling. Oozing and sweet. Her expression, shocked at first, was now trying to put the pieces together.

~~~

Grey clouds drifted across a grey sky. A red-faced, teary-eyed Palina stood among a sea of unfamiliar shades of white. White clothing and white veils.
About a week back, she watched as her father died fighting against Gerwain, which used to be an adversary of Bethsemane. He was a farmer, but his crops sold nicely and he is used to coming back home with bags of coins that would last them a year if they saved properly. He managed to get them a nice terrace at the feet of a hill, overlooking ripening crops.
She was happy. Happy until the Gerwainian soldiers came and forced the farmers for their land. The farmers could have surrendered their land and spared their own lives.
His life.
A fight started between the farmers and the soldiers, Gerwain clearly having the upper hand. Why hadn't the farmers realised that? They couldn't beat them without the proper training, weaponry and armour they had.
Stay here, he said. I'll make sure they won't get this place. If I die, make sure to love it for me and mother. She loved this place very much. If only she were here now. Make no noise, Palina. I want you to live for us.
With teary eyes, she nodded. The farmer took his pitchfork and left the basement, Palina with the only key.
From a small window, she watched as her father joined his fellow farmers. Pitchforks, torches, pots and pans; swords and screams filled the air. The most horrific sight came after an hour of watching; her father being impaled with the blood-stained sword of a Gerwainian soldier. She watched as he screamed in pain, silenced as his head rolled onto the groud. She almost forgot her promise to make no sound. She almost screamed. But she remembered. Her scream, instead of coming from her mouth, turned into a cascade of tears.

~~~

"I suppose you know what kept you strong all these years," Hemathea said. "I have been watching you. As a goddess, I wasn't permitted much interaction with you."
"Oh..." Palina's voice drifted off when she came to a realisation. "Where's Klyamone?" Never had she mention it to her, but she has looked through the guest book back in the inn.
"Her? I- She's in the palace, that's for sure." Hemathea didn't want to upset her daughter, especially since Palina is her only daughter.
"Oh uh... okay, mother."
Palina looked at the goddess with unsureness. Was all this real?