The figure in the fog was twenty meters away. It was a woman, fair of form, brown of skin and green of hair, nude and unearthly. She did not touch the ground. Drinking in her Goddess with her eyes, Renna saw with soul-deep relief that the Mother was not some wood nymph shaped after the lusts of men. She was tall and spare, a woman shaped for work and action; her nudity was pure and powerful. She was old and yet young at the same time, hard and yet soft, distant and yet here. She bent to pick up the hand of a fallen solider and clasped it to her bosom, lifting her face to the sky. A ghostly wisp of blue something misted up from the corpse’s tenderly-held hand, and the Goddess opened her mouth, breathing it in. The blue vapor disappeared into her, and the Earth Mother glowed. It was only for a moment, but she saw it. She, Renna Mansour, despised by all her leaders, had seen what not even the Handmaid herself had ever beheld: their Goddess taking the faithful to their rest. She drew close and fell on her knees, heedless of the mud and the gore.
“O Divine Mother! Your most humble servant sees you! Blessed Goddess, Mother of All! Let me touch your feet and worship you!” She clasped her hands at her breast and waited.
Gaia seemed confused, looking up from the dead soldier and all around as if unsure where the sound was coming from. Finally, those eyes turned to her, and Renna’s heart nearly stopped. The Earth Mother’s eyes were black as night from corner to corner. They looked like holes into some incomprehensible void. Those dark pits sucked at Renna, pulled at her mind, and her thoughts of devotion fell to shreds. Can this be her? Her eyes were supposed to be like the sun.
“Gaia,” mused the figure, as if hearing the word for the first time in ages. The voice made Renna’s guts tremble. The sound of it fluted across multiple tones at once, and none of them were in harmony. It felt like dread. “Yes, I am Gaia.” That beautiful face tilted, curiosity evident in its posture. “Who are you?”
“I... I am Renna, your humble priest. I follow the order of the Weavers that you created for mankind.” She must know who I am. Is this a test? Why does she sound like that? Schooling her traitorous thoughts, she bowed her head and closed her eyes.
“A priest,” Gaia said in that awful voice. “Fascinating. What does a priest do?” Peeking up, Renna saw the Goddess leave the dead man and approach her, drifting ten centimeters off the ground. Her skin went cold. I am not prepared. I have been a selfish servant. That’s why I feel this terror. Goddess save me, I will serve you better!
Scrambling for a pleasing answer, she stuttered, “We... I preach to the people of your glory and your goodness, Mother. We are your daughters and your Hands, and we teach men and women to worship you, Divine Mother. I bless your name forever!” She bowed her head again and hoped Gaia would not touch her.
“I did not birth you, human. Why call me Mother?” The divine form crouched in front of her, inspecting her as if she had never seen such a sight in all the aeons of eternity.
“You control the workings of the earth, great Gaia, and bring forth all that lives, so... so we call you Mother. Are we wrong to do so?”
The black-eyed beauty threw back her head and laughed. It was a sound that could stop the heart, and Renna covered her ears, trembling. “I bring forth the green because it breaks my cage. But I never brought forth humans. You are not mine.”
Renna struggled to wrap her mind around the words. “Then why do you take the fallen to their rest? Why do you plant the faithful?” She pointed to the dead man.
The lovely creature looked from her to the body and back. “I plant nothing here. Why would I plant a human? Nothing grows from you. I took his essence. There are many of your kind here, and when they fall, I collect their essence. With so many at once, I can even become corporal again.” She held up her hand admiring the nut-brown sheen of her skin. “It has been long. Long, and even longer since I held this much all at once.” She peered closer at Renna. “If you say you serve me, give me your essence.”
Terrified, Renna searched her soul. Her goddess was asking for her life. Wasn’t this the literal manifestation of the service she had preached her whole life? Her courage failed her. “I, I hope to still use it in your cause. Forgive me, Mother.” Her hands shook and she bowed her face to the mud.
That blank, soulless face was silent for an agonizingly long moment as Gaia seemed to think over her response. I am damned. What have I done? Then, thoughtfully, as if testing out the sound of the words, the goddess said, “I think… I will take it anyway.”
Gaia pointed at the fallen soldier whose essence she had consumed. Tendrils of green shot up from the earth beneath the corpse’s head, writhing with unnatural quickness to envelop the dead man’s head. The creepers wormed their way into his nose, mouth, and ears. They invaded his eyes, sending blood and jelly down the sides of his face as they disappeared into the bloody crevices. The corpse began to twitch. Renna watched from her knees, transfixed in fascination and fear. Sounds of disgust came from her companions, who had crept up behind her as she genuflected. Gamarron put a hand on her shoulder and spoke with his usual calm understatement. “I think now might be a good time to leave.”
“No,”
