Luna
The first thing she heard was the sound of a rag being rung out slowly. Her eyes began to slowly blink awake, aching as her back creeked. She knew using the incantations outside of battle was wasteful, and the strain on Marika was too great to take so lightly, but right now, she was wishing otherwise.
She was in her tent, laid out on her bedroll with bandaging around her ankle, and her midsection was nearly circled with splints to support numerous broken bones. It was right about then that the would-be savior realized she was stripped down. Entirely down to bandages.
The realization instantly struck her with fear, hurriedly trying to sit up only for her back to bark back at her in agony, forcing her to stay prone with a painful groan. The sound attracted the attention of her golden goddess, and soon, the tent flap began to open as the gilded queen entered with a fresh compress for her, and a bowl that smelled of herbs and medicine. Their eyes met, and it was quiet for a few long and dreadfully painful seconds.
"I..." the gilded goddess started, visibly unsure at first what to say. The knight watched her eyes, lingering on the earth beneath them as if hoping to find answers. When they finally moved back to her knight, they had become resolute. She knelt down gently beside her would-be savior, taking a moment to apply a bit of the medicinal mixture she prepared to some of the knight's more surface injuries. "I do not feel.. the conditions of your womahood have anything to do with our arrangement. Besides... you -" she was quietly interrupted by the knight hugging her. Painful, weak, and slow.
"Thank you..." was all she said before laying back down slowly to let her companion do her work.
Marika
The lady looked over her would-be savior's body, her private areas covered by bandages. Much of the rest of her with her armor removed, however, was terribly scarred. Cuts, burns, even a few horrible brands she had noticed. The marks of one who had seen more war than peace.
If Marika were to focus, she could nearly pick out what kinds of battles the moonlit knight had endured. Her torso and back were the worst, though what worried her were not the myriad of burn wounds nor the patches of clawmarks like a dozen angry praying mantises had made attempt to maul her. It was the surgical scars. They lined her chest like a Y, and her back had pockets of seams where a surgeon had gone in, yet all of them eere so faded that it gave her pause to their origin.
How... young was she? What were all these... for?
She quietly dipped the rag old rag she left in the medicinal bowl, idly dabbing the wounds as she replaced bandages. "You... you fought valiantly, so I was told by our new traveling companion."
"Heh... is that what getting my back nearly broken in half is called nowadays? Valiant?"
"Just take the compliment, you ass."
"Very well, your grace." It was said with just a little bit of humor that time.
"Must you always talk to me like you are the jester at court?" She mused, gently guiding her knight to sit up carefully as she wound new bandages into place.
"Well, I do not HAVE to," she countered with a hint of pain between chuckles, "But surely you know that laughter is the best medicine."
"Oh yes, let me go get you another bowl of laughter. Let us see," as she patted her ribs to the invite of a soft achey groan, "Just how thhat feels on these ribs, hm?"
"Ok, fair play. I shall calm the quips, for now."
"Mm, hopefully it shall become a more permanent arrangement."
"You will find my mouth is not so easily shut, your grace."
"Oh, there are a few ways, I am sure..."
Many ways.
Her eyes blinked to hide the brief flash of anguish, thanking the greater will as her face was turned aside and out of view when his heated voice once more hit her. Her thoughts had been those of playful fancy. He only imagined conquest.
"How many bones did that red-headed bastard snap in me again?"
"About 42.."
".... we are stuck here for a while, huh?"
"Unless you can spontaneously restore your bones and replace all that blood you lost, yes, I do think our stay here in the land of Caelid may be a wee bit extended."
"And you made me stop the quips." She ended with a chuckle that soon left her in groans of pain.
The goddess sighed, only to smile when the medicine she fed her knight at last brought her to sleep. Gently adjusting her blankets and tucking her in, she quickly shimmied from the tent to let her knight rest.
The traveler stood by their fire, eyes slowly drifting back up to her mother. There was no hiding the truth when they were alone.
"Does she know?" Her daughter asked quietly.
"Yes. She claims to have a mission to help me, but she has never elaborated further."
"Well, what destination awaits you, mother?"
"The shadow lands."
"The.. what...?
Marika's eyes looked away as a feeling of guilt stirred in her. Memories of a son she had cast aside out of shame. The first in a line of mistakes, one committed before godhood even. Whatever power had brought her back either was a fool to think her worthy of redemption or a sick monster who enjoyed gifting false hope.
"It is... difficult to explain, Melina. Know only that, should we succeed -"
"I am not asking for petty dismissals. I want answers, Mother." Her tone did not invite argument. Marika could feel the old locks on Melina's memories slipping. She hoped to avoid the chance Melina might realize, and just fell into reminiscences over time. It was a fool's hope, but these days, that felt like all the gilded queen had to call her own.
A fool indeed.
Marika sat there for a while as she settled onto one of the logs, playing lightly at the navy blue fabric of the dress she had recently managed to put together. More comfortable and flowing, it gave her better movement for their arduous adventures.
"It was before you were born when I was just a little girl. It was a place called the Shadow Lands that was ruled by a people known as the hornsent. My people were a type of numen, known as the shaman. All women. We... we would often be kidnapped by these hornsent, and.... after I escaped that place, I... " she looked up quietly at her daughter as guilt began to rise its ugly head. "Your elder brother, Messmer. I instructed him to... take back those lands. Retake them, and l... cleanse it of its corrupted nature." She ended, trying to soften her words.
Melina's face betrayed no emotion, which only made Marika worry more. "That was... where I ascended to godhood. After the... the war, I used a special power to ascend. I... could not save my home, though... even with the power of a god."
Melina's eyes did soften at that, if only a little bit. "That still does little to explain who this knight is," she responded after a moment, "Who are they? Where have they hailed from?"
"I do not know." She dried her eyes discreetly, trying to shoo away any leverage he could find.
"What do you mean you do not know? You have been traveling with her for nearly a month and a half now, and you know, nothing??" Melina sounded a touch irritated, though it was fair given the length of time they had gone about together already.
"I know she is fond of strawberries, and garlic, and the smell of rain." Followed by the soft sound of teeth on fish as she began to indulge. There had been this lovely grass her knight had harvested, saying it would make fish even better. She had not been wrong, and the subtle taste of citrus was a shockingly delicious addition.
"That is not... is it a lack of questioning or secrecy?" Lifting her own stick laiden with food, she could not hide the not-so-mild enthusiasm at a decently prepared meal.
Well, she got her appetite from me.
"She has a tendency to dodge questions involving her family or her history. She has only revealed that her mother sent her here."
Melina chuckled slightly at that but said no more. It was less a laugh and more like a startled response.
Once recovered, the traveler seemed to ponder on this, eyes looking away as she stirred on these new revelations. Marika herself gnawed at her food, relaxing at the taste. Food had become a comfort in this grim place that she had long forgotten the comfort of. It was.... refreshing.
"This does not change my goals, I am afraid. When we reach the snowy peaks, I shall offer the chance at burning the tree, as is my fated ends." The traveler said remorsefully, yet resolute. A fate she detested, clearly, yet saw no other path to change yet.
Marika herself delved into conflict as the thought warred at her quiet dreams of a reborn golden order, yet as her eyes lingered on her daughter, whose flesh itself was barely a facade, she knew that the revival of her order could bring nothing but pain. "If... that is the wish of yours, I shall not impede what my daughter..." Her hand shook tenuously, struggling through the words, "Decides is her own path."
"... that is, quite kind of you."
"No..." It came out ragged, far more than she intended, and there was a grim honesty in the croak of her throat, "But it is the least I can do, for the hand I dealt you, Melina. For that... know that your mother is very sorry." She spoke, near on the verge of tears as she stared at the ground.
The gilded queen felt a soft embrace after a moment as the maiden daughter hugged her mother for the first time in centuries. After a few moments, the two simply began to cry. Cry in ways the years had not allowed them. Grieve with one of the only people who knew the count of their agonies and could understand.
She wished that she would have given her more time. She wished for so much more time with all of her children. Especially those she had failed to love enough the first time.
You do not deserve them.
Perhaps He was right.