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Legends tell of gods in the heavens above, who protect, bless or even curse. The people of the earth worship the gods they revere. Many gods and goddesses are known and apparent to the people such as Zeus, the king of all gods; Poseidon, the king of the ocean; Hades, the king of the underworld; Pan, the god of nature; Demeter, the goddess of agriculture; Artemis, the goddess of hunting; Apollo, the god of the sun; Ares, the god of war; and Athena, the goddess of wisdom. And countless other gods. Sometimes minor god, less well-known, are forgotten over time.
However, famous gods are often busy and hectic because their devotees bring many requests. If the requests are for the same purpose, the gods are at ease; if not, they will quarrel fiercely. Regardless of whether these gods truly exist or not, humans continue to superstitiously pray for blessings and various kinds of help.
And what about the other gods? They all lived their lives according to their own ways.
Clea, one of the goddesses of creation, art, and music, was once famous among painters. But her name was erased from the pages; her history faded until she was practically unknown. Nevertheless, she continued to create her work in various places.
During this time, the goddess rested in her temple on Olympus, though somewhat dilapidated with time and without any offerings to her.
Clea pondered what kind of monsters to draw and send to wreak havoc in the human world, giving the Olympian gods a headache as they searched for heroes to subdue them. But before achieving victory, many heroes died.
Peace is so boring but it's better than having to get up and do something to relieve boredom. The goddess once wandered around the human world looking for something to do to relieve boredom and found that it's better not to bring trouble upon yourself. Just stay still, sit or lie down, draw, play music all day long. Whether humans know about it or not, it doesn't matter.
Art and music will never fade from humanity.
As long as those two things remain, the goddess of creation, art, and music will endure, even without worshippers.
Clea stretched her neck up from the burgundy sofa, glancing at the dust-covered offering table, a thick layer of dirt indicating that the owner had no intention of sweeping or cleaning it at all. Now, offerings appeared. The goddess smiled broadly, remembering that for the past twenty years, there had been people who worshipped her, even though they couldn't be found. After offering their gifts, they would disappear, and she hadn't been able to locate them.
Upon seeing the offerings to the god, she immediately wrinkled her nose, guessing that trouble was about to follow, because it was something unfamiliar.
The goddess focused her attention on the stream of supplications, out of consideration for those who offered her sacrifices, after not receiving offerings for hundreds of years. The image in her mind clearly showed her worshippers. She raised her eyebrows at the sight of a large group of people gathered in a semicircle around a statue—or rather, once a statue, for now only the knees and a name carved into the base remained. The rest was shattered into fragments of plaster scattered throughout the dilapidated temple. Even the roof was gone.
They set up an altar, placing savory and sweet dishes, incense, and other offerings to the goddess. Clea saw a middle-aged man, leaning towards elderly, dressed elegantly as befits a wealthy person. Beside him stood a young man, whose appearance was average in the goddess's eyes. He wore armor and leather boots, standing tall and proud in front of several soldiers. They appeared to be high-ranking officers, possibly generals or commanders.
"May the goddess bless us with victory over the city of Lumière..."
The goddess frowned. It's probably just a small town, nothing interesting at all. It's better to just gift this wish over with so she can relax and sleep comfortably. Listening to those interpreters is already annoying. Do they think she's the goddess of war? Wouldn't it be more relevant to ask Athena, Bellona, or Ares for a wish?
I'm the goddess of creation, art, and music, you know!
With a snap of his fingers, he bestowed a blessing upon the young man in armor. A radiant silver light shone around him, witnessed by the onlookers. They bowed down in worship and swore an oath to bring offerings again.
Clea wanted to say no, she was too lazy to listen to such nonsensical requests. She'd rather spend her time painting and playing music with the Muses; that was much more entertaining.
The goddess let time slip away lazily as usual. With just a few breaths, years passed, too many to count. Arcadia even sarcastically suggested that she should become the goddess of laziness herself, since Arcadia wouldn't give up that title to her.
Clea watched as various offerings appeared on the table. This happened for several consecutive days. She flicked her fingers, summoning food to eat.
Clea closed her eyes and concentrated once more. The same group was performing a grand ritual to her while the sky remained dark, illuminated only by the blazing fire of torches. After listening to the old man's lengthy rambling, he concluded that they were attacking the city at dawn, asking the goddess for her blessings to grant them victory over Lumière.
Looking at the army behind them, they whistled in surprise. There were tens of thousands them.
The goddess tapped her fingers on the table, wondering what was so special about that rural town. She pondered what was so special about the rural town, shifting her mind to a town near the campsite.
Gray eyes surveyed the vast city, with its hundreds of thousands of inhabitants, surrounded by concrete walls and fortifications on all sides for watch. Soldiers stood guard in shifts, a task the goddess thought was like trying to move a log with a twig. Beyond the walls lay the residential areas, markets, and shops—befitting a large city—all the way to the governor's mansion. Chaos raged around the governor's house, with many people constantly coming and going.
I secretly snuck a peek at the city's response meeting. My mind was drifting towards the conference room, but I was stopped when I caught sight of a woman in a modest dress, with wavy brown hair reaching her shoulders. Her brown-green eyes clearly showed worry. She paced back and forth in front of the conference room, anxious about something, or perhaps something else entirely, which I wasn't sure of. What I was certain of, however, was that the woman was incredibly beautiful. So beautiful I want to have it for myself.
Hmm, I wonder if that young man wants the resources of the Mongols or if he wants this woman. Now I'm starting to get suspicious.
The goddess wrinkled her nose at the thought of eavesdropping on the meeting. Clea listened to their loud argument. The person at the head of the table was probably the governor. A young man in armor stood slightly behind him; one arm seemed to be prosthetic. He was likely the governor's son. Her slender eyebrows furrowed together as them pondered how to deal with the army from the neighboring city.
I guess there's nothing to worry about. I feel sorry for the other party who came to ask for her protection.
But when she saw the beautiful woman standing outside the conference room, she really wanted to take back the blessing. But that's unlikely, unless the man has done anything wrong. Ugh, she's so fed up. Sigh, she was really fed up with that rule...
Once a wish is granted, it cannot be changed; only conditions can be added to it.
Those men will attack shortly before sunrise. Then she'll be able to decide what to do next, or just let it go. Clea turned back to examine the beautiful woman outside the room just as the enemy attack trumpet blared. The men from the meeting room rushed out, their destination the city gate.
The goddess awoke from her thoughts, pulled her consciousness back into her body, and instantly vanished to the scene of the incident. Concealing herself, she followed the beautiful woman who was holding the arm of a well-groomed, bearded young man, whispering to him Hmm. This woman is the governor's daughter.
The young man gently patted the woman's hand to encourage her before excusing himself to confront the enemy who had advanced towards the city walls. After he left, the woman's face was filled with worry. She dragged her maid by the arm to a temple in the city to pray.
It was a good idea. Traditionally, intruders could not act so brazenly in the presence of a god within a temple. However, Clea wasn't sure what the dilapidated temple would do. It seemed the townspeople didn't revere the god much, judging by its pathetic state. The goddess tilted her head slightly in curiosity. While the temple itself was run-down, gloomy, and uninviting, the statue was spotlessly clean and dust-free, as if it had been meticulously cared for.
The goddess searched for the inscribed letters to identify the god, but no matter how hard she looked, she couldn't find them. As for the statue's appearance, she didn't think it would be possible to determine who it was, as there were no weapons to suggest anything, nothing distinctive about it. There's nothing to guess, nothing outstanding, it's utterly bland.
"The goddess must help you. She must sympathize with and show mercy to the you who regularly offers sacrifices to the goddess.”
Clea crouched down, listening as the brave maid comforted her mistress in prayer. She remarked that the comforting words might not be necessary, as the young lady's gaze was fierce, and she was holding a knife. It doesn't seem likely that it would be used to fight the enemy. suicide seemed more likely. She grumbled to herself, "Can they please just say clearly who this bland goddess is? I'd go ask for her help, if I could."
“No, Betty,” the young woman shook her head. “I am confident we will win this war. My plan will work. I don’t rely on the goddess; I offer my sacrifices out of respect and reverence, not for any reward. If Lumière is to be defeated, I would rather commit suicide than become their captive.”
Just as I expected, she's determined. I really like that.
“But...”
"No buts, Betty! Goddess Clea is not the goddess of war; she is the goddess of art and music. I cannot tarnish her reputation," the young woman refused firmly. The goddess beside her, listening, widened her eyes and broke into a broad smile, inadvertently releasing her invisibility spell and revealing herself before the two women.
"It you who frequently offered me sacrifices."
Ah-
Clea snapped her fingers to silence the maid. "Someone will find out you're hiding here."
“W-Who are you?” The young woman pointed the knife at the anonymous guest, her hand trembling. Yet, deep down, she felt strangely at ease around this woman with long, reddish-brown hair. The goddess pushed the young woman's wrist down with her finger, showing no fear of the small knife. A wide smile spread across her lips as she pointed a finger at the bland, tasteless statue of a goddess before her, a stark contrast to herself. “The goddess you worship.”
"D-Don't you dare claim to be a goddess! I... I don't believe you!"
Clea was even more pleased, glancing at the maid who looked terrified, her voice suddenly gone, yet still shielding her mistress. The goddess then pointed to the loyal maid, "Lady, I don't need to lie to you. I even silenced her voice. Here, I return it." With a snap of her fingers, she restored the voice to the tiny human.
"M-My lady" The moment Betty spoke, she was more terrified of the woman who had suddenly appeared than anything else, almost completely believing that the woman before her was the goddess Clea.
"You don't believe me, do you?" The goddess shook her head. After all, she wasn't as famous as she used to be, or as well-known as the twelve Olympian gods. Clea stretched to her full height and warned, "You should pray to Athena. She has Nike, the goddess of victory, with her. Or you could pray to Pallas, or to Bellona. The enemy has tens of thousands of troops."
Goddess's too lazy to try and convince people to believe her.
The worshipper's face still showed shock and fear, yet her beautiful eyes were so resolute that the goddess could not ignore them. She reached out and gently touched the woman's curved forehead. A fleeting flash of silvery light appeared, and the goddess vanished.
"Good luck, Emma."
A soft voice echoed in the governor's daughter's head, telling her to believe that the red-haired woman was the goddess she had always worshipped.
"My lady, my lady, are you alright?" Betty clutched her mistress's shoulder, her voice trembling with fear and panic, though she herself was sweating profusely just like her lady.
Emma gripped her maid's wrist tightly, shaking her head. She was still reeling from what had just happened. Had the goddess Clea really appeared before her? Normal people couldn't emit light from their fingertips and disappear. Moreover, she knew the number of enemies who attacked this time, and she even knew my name without her ever telling them.
Shouts from outside were followed by great commotion, pulling Emma back to a frightening reality. She crouched behind the statue of the goddess, closed her eyes, and prayed. The goddess didn't go far; she cast a concealment spell and stayed so close.
How could she leave when a human was calling her?
Especially if it's a beautiful woman who routinely idolizes her, she'd love to find time to sit down and chat, asking how they met, whether they like to draw or play music. She'd then bless them to become geniuses in those fields.
The goddess divided her mind to observe the movements outside the city walls, watching the enemy's attack. The soldiers below tried to destroy the city walls with large logs, many soldiers carrying them and charging forward to ram them. Clea thought this was utterly foolish; why hadn't they built any devices to help swing the logs? Many others used wooden ladders to climb up, but were bombarded with arrows, rocks, and hot water, making it difficult for them to ascend. On the Lumière side, the soldiers suffered heavy casualties from enemy arrows fired upwards, wounding those above.
War brings loss, the goddess knew well, yet humans still choose to wage war repeatedly, claiming legitimacy to rule territories, seize resources, and even boast of their power. The goddess was truly weary of it.
"Clea, what are you doing here?"
A familiar voice was heard, accompanied by the appearance of a goddess in armor, wearing a helmet and holding a spear in her right hand. Her gray eyes, a shade of gray, showed a look of bewilderment, wondering why the goddess of creation would be here.
"Hi, Athena," Clea greeted before replying, "I've come to release the Nevrons for you to create heroes, as usual. I've let them lie motionless in the paintings for far too long."
"Stop!" the Goddess of Wisdom raised her hand to stop her, her face showing exasperation at the God of Creation's antics in releasing her beloved Nevrons to roam freely among humans, simply because he was bored. 'You surely didn't come here to scout the landscape so you could take Nevrons for a walk, did you?'
"Hahaha!" Clea laughed heartily. "Can't I hide it from the Goddess of Wisdom and War? The reason I'm here is the same as yours; people are praying for me. It may sound unbelievable that anyone still knows me, but which side are you on?"
Athena sighed heavily. 'Both sides worship multiple gods simultaneously, according to their individual beliefs. I'm just here to observe the situation; I haven't chosen a side.'
'Don't you think of creating heroes?'
'I think there shouldn't be any war heroes.'
‘Really?'
'Which side are you on?'
Faced with a counter-question, the goddess sighed, weighing the options between the young man she had blessed and the young woman who had offered her tribute. The image of a beautiful woman with a stern yet fearful gaze flashed through her mind, and a faint smile unintentionally escaped her lips. 'Lumière side'
Athena giggled playfully. 'Because of the woman you are sitting and standing guard over in your temple?' she said, referring to the separate entity of Clea still residing in the city, the old, dilapidated temple of the goddess of creation, art, and music.
The Goddess of Creation nudged the other with her elbow. "Aren't you also splitting yourself into multiple forms? Isn't your true form with your sweetheart, Medusa? Protecting that sea monster more than humans, aren't you? Your favorite priestess," Clea said, referring to the youngest Gorgon of the ancient Forsil Triton. She had snakes for hair and could turn anything to stone. She was raised by humans and by chance became a priestess in the temple of the goddess of wisdom, unaware that her favorite priestess, Medusa, was actually a Gorgon.
"Shut up! I'm leaving." Not knowing what to argue or defend herself with, Athena chose to leave Clea alone as before disappearing.
In the first battle, the enemy was forced to retreat to revise their strategy, as Lumière's forces were far superior. Clea followed the young woman back to the governor's mansion. She was calm and composed, unlike her initial agitation. While discussing the events outside the city with her younger brother, she whispered a rough plan for him to present to their father.
Clea, who was secretly listening from a distance, inwardly admired her. Beautiful, talented, intelligent—exactly her type.
Emma gave the young brother a few more instructions before turning and leaving. She headed back to her private room. It was the first time the goddess had explored the young woman's room. Clea was in a very good mood after seeing the drawing supplies in Emma's room and a canvas on an easel. The goddess stood with her arms crossed, watching the young woman apply paint to the canvas.
"I think this color would be better," Clea couldn't help but suggest colors and painting techniques to Emma, being the goddess of art herself. Seeing someone drawing and coloring, I curiously went to observe. "Let me show you how to color."
The human woman's eyes widened in shock. Suddenly, the goddess reappeared in front of her, pointing her finger and teaching Emma this and that, but none of it made sense to Emma. She quickly stood up, stepped back, and bowed respectfully, "Goddess."
"You believe me now?" Clea teased.
"If you have appeared and disappeared from the void twice despite my residence being heavily guarded, I have no choice but to refuse," Emma truly believed the woman before her was the goddess Clea. She was knowledgeable in the arts and even offered her advice.
"Never mind, you continue painting," Clea gestured toward the canvas, inviting the young woman to continue coloring.
After watching for a while, the goddess reached out and placed her hand over the same part of the young woman's body, adjusting and applying different colors to enhance its beauty. Her full lips moved, teaching Emma various techniques. The governor's daughter secretly watched the goddess as she taught her various things. Emma took in the details of the beautiful, sharp features of the goddess's face as she intently taught, her eyes unblinking.
The goddess seemed aware of being gazed upon by those hazel eyes, so she deliberately spoke slowly, subtly asking what had long puzzled her: how did Emma know her? Emma replied that there was a notebook in her mansion containing information about the goddess Clea, noting that there was also a temple of the goddess in Lumière. She then learned that the ancient, dilapidated, neglected temple was once the temple of the goddess Clea. Being interested in art, she had cleaned it as best she could and offered sacrifices.
The goddess stayed by Emma's side for several weeks, teaching her various techniques, alternating with disguising herself as a villager, strolling through the town. Sometimes she would sell her paintings on the street, and other times she would play a large string instrument in the town square. The stress and pressure on the people from the war miraculously subsided, and even stirred their spirits.
That's the power of the goddess Emma thought to herself.
When the city lord's son was seriously injured, Emma was very worried and didn't know what to do to help him recover. The goddess suggested that she pray to Asclepius, the god of healing and resurrection. Emma nodded and immediately began to pray. Clea then vanished to seek help from Asclepius, the son of the god of Apollo. Even if he couldn't cure him completely, she hoped he could at least be saved from danger.
"Thank you, Goddess. Without you, I don't know what I would have done."
Emma bowed in gratitude to the goddess who had advised her in helping her brother. After praying for most of the night, Gustav's condition gradually improved from near death to breathing and resting. Her father offered sacrifices to Apollo and Asclepius to thank them for saving his son's life, but left no offering for the goddess Clea who had given him advice. Emma thought it inappropriate to ignore the goddess, so she thanked her in person.
The goddess paused her play on her favorite instrument, the harp, before continuing to melody and replying, "The surgeon who helped your brother was equally skilled. Asclepius merely offered his blessing. Don't forget to thank him yourself. As for me, I didn't do anything, so don't worry about it."
Emma wanted to ask more questions, but the goddess turned her attention back to playing the melody, which helped to calm her down considerably. She waited until the goddess finished speaking before opening her mouth to ask.
“How long You stay here”
"It won't be long now. The outcome of the battle is almost certain. I won't need to stay any longer." Clea waved her hand, and the harps vanished from the floor. The goddess folded her arms, raised her eyebrows, and asked in return, "Why?"
“N-No”
"I'm going for a walk at town. You rest," Clea said briefly before disappearing as usual.
Emma pursed her lips, feeling an emptiness in her chest. She had served the goddess for months and had begun to develop a bond with her. She provided all the food, sometimes even cooking it herself. Emma brought it to the temple, where the goddess was already seated, with a table for two. At first, she was uncomfortable sitting beside the goddess, but after much urging, she had no choice but to. She even offered the goddess her own bed, to which the goddess laughed and said it wasn't necessary; she could always return to Olympus to sleep and come back the next day.
One thing Emma knew about the goddess was that she never revealed herself in the form she saw—a tall, slender woman in comfortable clothes, with burgundy hair flowing freely down her back and large, playful gray eyes. Others only saw her as an old woman or a disabled person, when her image was being sold or when she performed music. Emma didn't know why, and she didn't want to pry into the goddess's appearance.
Many more nights passed, and the war finally ended. The result of the battle was a devastating victory for the city of Lumière, crushing the opposing army. The goddess rolled her eyes, listening to their curses and condemnations without paying them any attention. She was the goddess of creation, not war. When you worship someone, learn something first, don't just worship blindly. As for the blessing she bestowed upon the young man, it was the blessing of music, not warfare. But if we learn from it and apply it, we might win, who knows?
"Here, I give you this as a thank you for taking care of me for the past several months," Clea handed Emma several sketches of Nevrons, explaining how to use them. "Carry them with you at all times. If danger arises, tear up the paper. These monsters will protect you. One sheet per use only. I'm leaving..."
Before the goddess could finish her sentence, Emma, forgetting her manners, grabbed the goddess's wrist and asked in a trembling voice, "Will I see you again?"
Clea remained silent for a moment before shaking her head. "I must say no. This is our last meeting." Seeing Emma's sorrowful expression, the goddess gently stroked the young woman's head affectionately. "If you remember me, do not forget to touch your brush to the canvas. I will always be there. Goodbye."
The goddess returned to her secluded life in her temple on Olympus. She tidied up the area where offerings were received, throwing away unnecessary items and keeping only important things. She also made room for the offerings that arrived weekly from the same woman. Some days, Clea would focus her mind on the young woman's movements, wondering how she was doing, until she learned that the young woman was going to get married in a few months.
Her slender eyebrows furrowed together, displeasure rising in her chest for a moment before subsiding. It's natural for humans to reproduce and have offspring, so it's perfectly normal for Emma to get married and have a family.
Klea lay down again, letting time pass without checking on Emma's whereabouts any longer. She left the sacrificial offerings as they were, not intending to touch them unnecessarily—or rather, pretending not to care so as not to unleash a rage and let Nevrons slaughter the young man.
As usual, the goddess received offerings from humans, yet she paid no attention, merely scribbling on a piece of paper with a sharpened charcoal briquette, unaware that this offering was different from the others. It moved and shifted.
"Goddess"
The soft call was enough to attract the attention of the goddess of creation. She stopped what she was doing and whirled around towards the offering table. Upon seeing the 'offerings' clearly, Clea gasped, dropping the piece of charcoal that tumbled to the floor. Only then did she regain her composure.
"You! Why?" Clea was startled, not expecting Emma to appear in her temple on Olympus. She turned away from the painting and walked towards the woman who frequently offered her gifts, gently touching her soft cheek with her hand. "What have you done?"
Emma gazed at the goddess without blinking. She hadn't expected her plan to work. If it had failed, Thanatos, the god of death, would surely drag her to the underworld. Yet, she had entered the temple of the goddess Clea, whom she had worshipped all her life. She longed for her, worried about her, even though she knew she was unworthy. How could a human and a goddess live together? If she died, she would never see the goddess again. All this time, she had followed the goddess's instructions: if she missed her, she should paint a picture; the goddess would be there with the art. She told herself to believe that until her father forced her to marry the son of the great general to forge an alliance. Considering the best interests of the country, she should marry for the benefit of her nation.
But if it came to herself...
This time, Emma chose to follow her heart. She didn't want to marry anyone because her heart was already completely occupied by one goddess.
Unable to escape the wedding ceremony, she chose her final option: to offer herself as a tribute to the goddess Clea through her death.
"I know my self-indulgent actions have troubled the goddess, but I have no choice—"
The goddess pulled Emma into her embrace, comforting her, "Are you in so much pain? Are you in great agony? How foolish you were to burn yourself."
Yes, it hurt. She felt a burning, stinging pain all over her body. The intense heat from the flames incinerated everything near it, reducing it to ashes simply by inhaling the heat. Her lungs felt like they were tearing apart; they were burning and stinging all over. After that, she regained consciousness here, in the temple of the goddess Clea, who was intently painting something. Only then did the pain vanish. She saw the goddess again.
"I'm not hurt, not at all."
As long as she could be with Goddess, she could endure even the smallest hardship.
Clea lowered her gaze, her mind fixed on Emma's body below. She gritted her teeth, staring at the lifeless, ash-filled figure curled up on the ground amidst the murmuring wailing of the townsman, lamenting his forced marriage. The goddess's heart was too broken to forgive herself for not listening to Emma's prayers and supplications, allowing her to suffer her own fate.
"Will you stay here with me?"
"Yes, I wish to stay with you," Emma smiled through her tears.
Hmm, the goddess transformed Emma into a constellation in the sky, since she couldn't be changed into a goddess. At least becoming a constellation isn't so bad. “I will consider you my own, Emma."
"I agree."
The goddess of creation gently lifted Emma's chin and pressed a lingering kiss against her lips before pulling away, though reluctantly. "Would you be interested in seeing my temple? I'll show you around, though it's a bit messy. I haven't had any visitors in a long time. I hope you won't mind. I'll tidy it up so you won't have any trouble staying with me."