On the one hand, this is taking the — for lack of a better word — theology of Realmgard in a direction I never really intended. I prefer my gods to be concepts more than characters. That is, objects of worship for the characters but not really characters themselves.
On the other hand, I saw a writing prompt that was basically “god trying to get their chosen hero to accept their destiny.” So, I thought to myself, I thought —
— “What’s the most Realmgard way I do this?” and, basically, something about the idea of a goddess sending what is essentially a guardian angel to poke someone with a stick is really appealing to me.
Copyright
J.B. Norman
“Stop that,” Kat groans, smacking away the poking-stick being repeatedly jammed into her upper arm.
She turns and glares over her shoulder.
“Can’t do it,” the strange young woman following close behind like Kat’s second shadow. “Not until you agree to become Lady Pherais’ chosen hero.”
She immediately resumes poking Kat with the stick.
Kat sighs.
Lately, Kat has been getting stalked by a young woman in a toga who is either a nymph and one of the goddess Pherais’ handmaids, or else a complete lunatic…
According to her, Kat has been chosen by the goddess herself to serve as Pherais’ mortal champion in the world of Terrace and fit evil, or something.
“Do you think I want to be here?” the nymph exclaims. “I left the Aionia Megara for this! The mortal world sucks! Everything’s drab and dirty and smells like horse! And I’m spending every waking hour poking a stubborn, stuck-up brat who won’t —”
She punctuates her words with a series of yet more pokes.
“— accept. that. she’s. Lady. Pherais’. chosen. champion!”
“Brat?” Kat repeats indignantly. “You’re all of, what, twelve years old?”
“I’m seven thousand and six!” the nymph cries. “I’ve been Lady Pherais’ herald for six thousand of those, and I have never met such a stiff-necked infidel who just won’t accept her destiny.”
Kat stares at the nymph.
“You’re seven thousand?”
“And six,” the nymph insists.
“You’ve aged remarkably well,” Kat notes.
“Oh, thank you,” the nymph says, blushing slightly. “I have a great skincare routine. I moisture my face with water from the sacred springs of Mount Oros.”
Her face hardens as she glowers at Kat again.
“Or I would, if I didn’t have to keep poking you!”
“If Pherais wants me to be her champion,” Kat notes, “why doesn’t she just come herself?”
“Do you have any idea how busy Lady Pherais is?” the nymph cries. “Do you know how much she does for you ungrateful mortals? She’s fighting the Frost Giants and the Sea Dragons and the Storm Demons so you can all go around your miserable little lives without something horribly eating each and every one of you — which is no less than you deserve!”
“That’s, uh,” Kat mutters. “That’s a pretty good reason.”
“And that’s exactly why Lady Pherais needs a mortal champion,” the nymph says.
“Ugh. That sounds like work,” Kat says.
The nymph rolls her eyes.
“Ugh. Mortals.”
And she starts poking Kat again.
“Fine!” Kat cries. “I’ll be Pherais’ champion. Just stop poking me!”
“Finally!” the nymph shouts triumphantly.
“So,” Kat asks, rubbing her bruised arm. “What happens now?”
“Well,” the nymph says. She reaches into the pouch on her sash and unfurls a lengthy scroll. “First things first, to prove yourself worthy of the mantle of Lady Pherais’ champion, you’ll need to undergo the Twelve Trials. So, we’re off to Lake Verdo for you to defeat the Aciarian Hydra.”
Kat stares in silent bewilderment.
“By the way,” the nymph says. “My name is Voitheia, thanks for asking.”
The rest of my writing exercises are here.
Follow along for the rest of my Spring 2024 30 days of writing. And catch up on that here.
And follow me here:
If you’ve enjoyed my content, please consider supporting me through Ko-fi or Patreon, or through Paypal by scanning the QR code below:
Follow Realmgard and other publications of Emona Literary Services™ below:
Subscribe to the Emona Literary Services™ Substack newsletter here.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
The author prohibits the use of content published on this website for the purposes of training Artificial Intelligence technologies, including but not limited to Large Language Models, without express written permission.
All stories published on this website are works of fiction. Characters are products of the author’s imagination and do not represent any individual, living or dead.
The realmgard.com Privacy Policy can be viewed here.
Realmgard is published by Emona Literary ServicesTM
