Memories are a strange thing. Sometimes they come in order, starting from when you were young and moving to the present, other times they jump around, triggered by things you see or hear, or even things you smell. Smell is always the worst. A certain smell can throw you full force into a memory you didn't even know existed, sometimes before you register what it is you're smelling. Sometimes a memory is so powerful you barely notice what's happening in the present, that can be a pleasant distraction, when it's a good memory.
The air is thick with sweet smoke, the sound of chatter and laughter fill the air. I feel a small smile curl on my lips. All are welcomed here, we honor our goddess and she blesses us in return. Many people don't fully believe in gods and goddesses, but I know they are real. They do listen to us, and if you've earned their favor, they will protect you. If you offend them, no protection will spare you. Someone is trying to get my attention, a boy from a town not too far away. I can't recall his name now, but I remember the feeling I always get when he's around, he always makes me feel wanted. Unlike the others, he would actually listen to what I say. He is a good person, but I am different from the townsfolk. I've sworn myself to a life of servitude of my goddess, and She rewards me with Her love and Her blessings. Even though this is the closest I will ever get to this boy, I'm still glad to see him. A young girl from another village is also nearby, she stayed with me here at the temple for several months, she says she wants to be like me one day, so we spend much of our time together. She's good company, she laughs a lot and helps me with all our tasks around the temple. There's a warmth in the air, it runs deeper than the heat of the fires and smoke from the hearth. This is the kind of warmth that you feel right to your soul. It could last a life time if you'd let it.
This time is different, the same warmth is there, but the air is damp and cold. The rusty scent of blood is what brought me here, I prepared the ewe lying on the alter, and threw the best portions onto the flames. The goddess always accepted my offerings, it wasn't pleasant work but that same warm feeling was there. That's how you know She accepts your offerings, you can feel Her love, even if She didn't make any big show of it like some others might. I finish the remainder of the ritual. The young girl still stays at the temple, she helps me with the looms. She's quite good at it, and makes the otherwise boring task somewhat enjoyable. I start walking back to the temple once I've finished my work, a light rain dampens my long dark hair. The most beautiful tapestries in the world hang in the temple, even from afar it's worth stopping for a moment to take in the majesty of it all.
The soft wool runs through my hands as I spin it into threads. I know I've felt it thousands of times, which must be why my hands don't recognize the feeling. There's no fires lit in the small room, I only work by the soft light coming from the sky. It's still grey and damp, the wind blows outside but inside the temple is always safe from that, I still can remember the warmth of the goddess I felt at the alter, but my body doesn't remember it like my soul does. The girl comes in and begins her own work on the loom, she brings with her the warmth of the fire and a story she has heard from some travelers. I never know what her stories are about, but I can see how she loves to tell them. It's really nice to have her around, she brings more life to the place, I've only been here a few months more than her, I came as soon as I was old enough to leave my home. Less than a year, I had served my goddess. And yet I still felt Her love more powerfully, more eternally, and more true than that any man could dream of. Less than a year, and I have gladly devoted the rest of my life to Her.
It's dark. I'm alone in the temple, all the travellers have gone, all the nearby shops have closed for the night, the world sleeps, so should I. No, I'm not alone. Someone is here. I can't see who, I can't see where, but I know when I am alone, and I am not now.
"You're very beautiful, far too beautiful to be sworn to servitude of a maiden goddess"
His voice cuts through the silence, it is soft, it sounds kind, so why does it feel like my insides are ripping my apart? Terror runs through my veins. Why can I still hear his voice? Why do I know what he said to me but not my own friends names? I tell him it is as he says. I'm sworn to maidenhood. This is not a temple of night, and offerings are best served during the day. He should leave. Please leave. Why can't I see him? Only shadows.
"I think you will find that the gods don't much care about the time of day. Your hair is done so exquisitely, and oh my your eyes are nearly as stunning as the sea."
I want him to leave. I want this to end. I don't want to be here. What brought me here? A faint breeze wafts over me, caressing my face, it smells salty and bitter. The wind picks up a bit and rustles my hair making a sound like soft waves against the shore. The sea, I remember the sea, it was where I grew up, my parents left me so many memories of the sea. Not this one though. I wish I could move but something holds me still. I wish I could speak, but my tongue won't move. My lips won't open. Suddenly he is there, a shadow turned into a man. I'm somehow against a wall and he's in front of me, his skin feels warm. Too warm, burning to the touch. I don't know what happens next, I closed my eyes, I closed my mind. Everything is dark, the simplicity of nothing, no sounds, no smells. How can I remember a place that is nothing?
She stands before me, my goddess, to whom I have devoted myself, promised my whole life to. She is beautiful, She radiates light, it must have been Her light which brought me back from the place of nothing. She tells me I can never come back to this temple. I can never... Where will I go? Without Her I have nothing. No guidance, no protection, how will I come back from darkness without my light? I remember Her warmth. This is the last time I felt it. I bask in this memory, the purity of Her love, for one last time. She tells me I will have to protect myself now, no man will ever look upon me as that man did. No man shall ever harm me the same way again. She gave me a gift, made me strong. I don't understand what has happened. She pities me, She always cared for me, yet I can never come back to Her?
Someone viciously shakes my head, I hear the last wisp of a scream leave the stone throat of the man before me. Now I remember. Memories are the only warmth I will ever feel now. The rest has been taken from me. That whom they call a man grips my hair, no longer beautiful and dark but now thick and dead, still gleaming and scaly. They used to talk with me, my lovely strands of living hair that She wove for me, they were good companions for many years. But without a body they grew hungry, and one by one, their tiny souls were released. Each of them took a bit of my own soul with it. I am in the nothing again. I have no control of myself, I can't feel anything, I couldn't speak if I knew what words to say. Sometimes I can watch what is happening around me, I still have the one last piece of my soul left, after all. Mostly I live in my memories. I was a priestess, I was loved, and I loved in return.
I was.
It is rare that a moment like this comes around, when I am present to ponder what I am now. The people called me a monster. My goddess abandoned me, but I lived a safe and happy life, I had my company and we needed nothing else. I don't think I ever was a monster. Now I'm used as a weapon, I'm no more monster than a sword might be. They call him a man but he is truly a monster, murderer, I have seen everything he's done since then. He is the one who uses my gift as a weapon, he is the one who caused the death of my companions, and all the death I've been forced to witness while my own soul slips away into memories. If I remained here, present, long enough to meet his gaze, I might choose differently. I could be the monster this time. She made me strong enough. Maybe if I could just
A loud banging shocks my ears and the strong scent of melted iron and fresh leather assaults my nostrils. The forge had never been my favorite place to visit, but it was far from the worst of the necessary tasks of caring for the temple.
