Find each other in the holy place where she had spent her days on Earth.
It had been agreed – it hadn’t been decided, not decided, to decide it would be to admit the idea of the chance of a god’s failure and there was no reason to entertain such a possibility – that if there was a morning which followed the night of She The Most Splendid’s return with them remaining in the world, the night after that, they would reunite in her home. She took the hand, and it struck her that it was quite a soft hand to be helping her up, much softer than that of her sisters and brothers.Īs she got to her feet, the softness of that hand was the very last thing on her mind. She moaned as she tried to stand, and the person who’d come held out a hand to her.
And she felt her heart rise, lifting her with it. Only when she heard footsteps did she let herself look up, squinting at the shape in the dark – the shape of a body covered in what looked to be a cloak approaching her. Takry breathed in the smell of the empty warehouse room, dusty and dry, as the day crawled on, as night began to seep in. She held that within her heart as strongly as she dared: that they might hold to She The Most Splendid’s memory as long as their hearts all beat. For one of her brothers and sisters to come back and find her. She kept herself small as she waited for night. She had failed, and her god was dead, and she would wait to reunite with her brothers and sisters to keep the memory of their god alive in this world. She waited in the shadows of the gates she hadn’t been able to protect – too weak, too slight, trusted with a sacred task she had failed in. It felt like falling, knowing she would have to live without her god. She’d lived without a home before, lived without a family, but she’d never lived without her god. And she made herself small again, pushing away the cries of the humans as they left through the gate she couldn’t guard, trying to hold her body still as she tried to catch her thoughts that all kept shooting through her head no matter how hard she tried. Everything she’d worked for, everything she’d prayed for, all disappeared in the dawn. Then the sun came up, and Takry couldn’t feel her heart anymore. She’d heard the battle in its clashes and screams, her heart pounding hard and she’d watched as the light of the doorway to her god’s home began to pass through the sky, her heart pounding even harder. But when the Slayer came, Takry had kept away, holding to her duty, and when the battle had begun, she’d kept away then, too: making herself small in the shadow of the walls of the broken building, hardly breathing to make any sounds. Not far behind, but well away, to make sure no maddened humans wandered off before their work was done. Takry had been tasked to stay behind and guard the gate.
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