If You Weren't Foolish
A weary stranger carries a lost girl through the jungle.
And yes, it's Aroden. Somehow, it's always Aroden.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
"...when I was your age," he begins, as gently as he can manage, as though telling an old tale. It has been a long time since he last had cause to do so, but right now a little story seems the best way to distract the girl from whatever might be lurking in the darkness of the forest, "a very noble and very important man came to our town. His kingdom lay far away, beyond the sea — and it was the wind that brought him."
"Like the waves bwought you?" the girl asks, staring up at him with her enormous eyes. The fear in them gives way to curiosity, and her fingers no longer clutch at his tunic quite so tightly. All that is left for him is to hold on more firmly.
"No, the waves did not ask me where I wished to go when they cast me ashore. But this man had tamed the wind itself, so that it would carry him across the world — for in all the world there was no ship so splendid as to be worthy of his notice, nor of the honour of having him aboard. His clothes shimmered with every colour that exists in all the world, and were embroidered so richly that other sovereigns could not gather such treasures in a lifetime. He would walk the streets as though he were the one and only lord of the place, and the other boys and I kept trying, on a dare, to pluck at least a single peacock feather from his mantle — until the grown-ups finally caught us at it. They told us that he was a very wicked wizard, who..."
Bright, ringing laughter cuts his tale short.
"You're making it up again! There's no such fing as wicked wizards."
Well, I remembered I could write and decided I wanted to do it every now and then, so if you (like me) were missing fanfiction about the gods of Golarion... Welcome
