A god remembers

A fresh log was settled into the roaring fire. The warmth was pleasant on his pale old skin. The old god whistled his favorite sailing tune as he gazed out at the crowd of youngsters. He scratched his chin idly, humming loudly as he scanned them all.

“Kalin!” Pappy called, the young wolf jumped to attention. He snapped a salute that reminded the old sailor of a young Dortas. He’d have to check in on the Truebranches soon, hopefully the passing of ages hadn’t let them forget their ancestor. If it had he’d simply do what he seems to always do now, tell stories.

“Yes sir?” He called back while still rigidly at attention, pappy chuckled and waved a hand. A small cloud formed beneath him and carried the lad directly to pappy’s side.

“You mind helping your dear ancestor into his favorite rocking chair my boy?” The rapid wagging of the boy’s tail smacked pappy in the leg as the pup eagerly led him to the chair. Pappy didn’t genuinely need the help, but giving him an opportunity to prove himself useful in front of the larger family was important. Pappy ruffled the boy’s silver hair with his hand, before shooing him back to the carpet. “Last time I had just explained that he was fair, right? Never really elaborated on the how?”

A chorus of affirmation met the old sailor as he smiled, the book floated on an unseen wind towards him now. The magic had come back as he remembered, but also as the children believed in him more and more. He knew how it worked, at least vaguely. A smidge of guilt weighed on him for regaining old strength this way, he knew his brothers would help if he asked, but stubbornly he refused. That part about his life would never change. Strength from family like this was more suited to his mentality anyway.

“Then let me begin to weave it back to you. Wilkes Tempest had only just become a sailor when pirates raided his home. They tore the town apart in the name of their quarry.” Pappy read from the pages, skipping over the graphic depictions he had written. Children needn’t hear that. “By blade and bullet they brought terror.”

The children raised another ruckus. Mostly of fear, but a few brave ones cried defiant. Kalin, and one of the gelatinous kids. Pappy squinted, the slime lad… he was one of Vokal’s tears… Zezrin maybe? No, Zezrin was purple, but this lad was more red dominated. Gerstid. His name is Gerstid! With that memory reclaimed his back straightened a bit, and some of the ache in his aged fingers faded. He shushed them with a calming gesture.

“As the terrible pirates raided our beloved sailor’s home a brave figure broke the horizon! Rangpar Qaroqchi! The emerald Bulwark of legend! The axe of testero!” Pappy put on his best announcer voice, acting as a hypeman for his old friend. The children cheered, a howl briefly broke out among the canid children. The howl was answered by a welcome sight on Pappy’s old eyes.

“Logitur, my dear sweet sailor. You know the sun is setting soon, and you’re inspiring a howl in the pups?” Gojie asked him while leaning against the door frame. The blind shipwright had her usual grin on her face as she spoke. Her silver hair hung to her waist behind her in a wild mane. Her skin had become slightly more tan than he remembered, but he welcome the change as he saw a hint of her abs when she leaned against the door frame. Her cropped white shirt hung loosely around her upper body. Tight black pants left almost nothing to the imagination as he saw the vague divots of defined muscles on those wonderful thighs. Oh the things he’d love to do to her all over again. She waved in front of the delicious legs then pointed up to her blindfold. “Eyes up here sailor! Well, eye, but you get my point, Logie.”

“Yes beloved.” He conceded, staring at her face. The wolf ears on the top of her head twitched in vague annoyance but still remained playfully aware. He’d only mildly annoyed her, time to press his luck as always.

“Ewwww!” The kids cried out, and Logitur laughed at their disgust. With a mischievous smirk he decided to double down.

“How do you think the majority of you got here? I love that woman, don’t make me show it rather than say it!” Pappy threatened them and a mix of horrified gasps and disgusted wretching came.

“But pappy, granny Gojie has cooties!” Kalin clung to his boot again, their matching silver fur seemed lost to the young boy. He gasped, then mimed patting himself down.

“Well Kalin it seems I don’t have any cooties currently on me, and you know I love taking risks!” He rose from his rocking chair, grunting as he stood at his full height. He strode across the room, wrapped his arm around Gojie’s waist, and pulled her into a deep kiss. Another chorus of disgust as he became to plant repeated brief kisses on her lips.

“What’s gotten into you? So lively again, reminds me of when I had just had my fight with Accalia.”

“Mmm I do miss your old wolf of waves outfit. Mind wearing it again for me?” He spoke softly and whispered his next words “I’ll be sure to remind you of our honeymoon when you do.”

She blushed deeply while giggling like a school girl. Sure they had been married for nearly two hundred years now, but she hadn’t gotten used to being flirted with so directly. Especially not since he’d begun to wane. But at this moment, he was present and so was she. He held her tight.

“I’m sorry to be so sudden, but I’m feeling myself again, at least in this body. I just wanted to prove to you I’m still in there when the more senile side rears up. I love you.” Logitur whispered in her ear, the shipwright did everything she could to keep smiling. He saw the singular tear slip from beneath the blind fold. With his free hand he wiped the tear. The black iron hand of fate manifested itself again.

He stared at it angrily. Now? It chooses to reappear now of all times? When he is at home with his beloved wolf. His nostrils flared. Gojie tilted her head and sniffed at the arm. She cringed when she realized what it was.

“So, it’s come back again has it?” Gojie asked nervously. She hated seeing him with that arm again. It was a cruel reminder of his duties.

“No. No it has not. I am going to keep reading to our descendants and tell this thing to piss off.” Logitur responded through grit teeth as he whispered. The children stared at the arm, he pulled an old cloth glove from his pocket and pulled it over the annoyance.

“Sorry kiddos, but we need to keep it down during story time. Gojie is here to ensure that we do. If that’s alright with all of you?” Pappy, Logitur, whoever he thought of himself right now engaged with his crowd of descendants again. He smiled at them and they nodded their heads. The bobbing of it all reminded him of the wide sea he used to sail.

“Where was I again kiddos? Oh yes! Rangpar gallantly held the line against the wicked invaders! His axe sent them to stand before justice as their wicked weapons brought him no harm!” He excitedly recounted, tails swished through the air excitedly, gelatinous bodies warbled intensely, equine ears stood fully alert. The children were on the edge of their seats from what he could tell.

“But cruelty came! A bullet unfairly ripped through the side of the gentle giant, and he was brought to kneel. His axe clattered against the stone as he clutched the wound.” The children gasped and made a mix of scared coos. Kalin gripped a wooden sword tightly in his left hand. Pappy had never noticed he was left handed before.

“But what’s this, in the shadows lurked further heroes!” he exclaimed, still reading the same page “Wilkes and Erik burst onto the scene! Swords and heads held high, they rushed directly into danger to save their friend!”

A roar of approval before the children all took turns shushing one another. A wooden sword clonked against a younger boy’s head. Pappy stood up and snatched the toy away glaring. He wagged his finger harshly and scooped up the younger lad. He’d definitely been born from Nysir from what he could tell. Thicker hound fur covered his body, giving him a shaggy appearance. The lad was definitely born from a hellhound, but with Logitur’s genes intermingled a few generations back. He was a thunder hound to be sure.

“It’s okay my boy, here sit in pappy’s lap while I keep telling the story. I’ll keep you safe.” He hushed the boy’s cries while cradling him. The little one couldn’t have been much older than six. Rocking him gently, pappy continued reading. Kalin was being scolded in the corner by Gojie now. A gentle knock came at the study door. It slid open moments later. There she was. His first wife. As radiant as ever, a body suit of alternating black and yellow stripes fit her snuggly like a unitard. She work black socks up to her thighs, but left her beautifully pale skin exposed in the gape between the two. Heavy black mascara gave her eyes a sad look, the pouting black lips doubled down on it. Today she wore her hair in a flowing look, as silky smooth as honey pouring down. She was carrying a first aid kit in one hand when she laid her eyes on him. A tired smile bloomed.

“Goveline, my honeysuckle. How are you?” Logitur spoke sweetly, the glint of recognition in her eyes made his heart melt.

“Beloved Sailor, you’ve found your way home.” There were tears in her eyes as she spoke, Her wings began to drone as she smiled at him. Centuries of love and gentle care surged between them anew. She floated across the room gently, the smell of flowers and spring blooms filled the room. She gracefully scooted past the thunder hound boy and kissed him on his forehead. She then kissed the sailor she loved. Again the children groaned in disgust. She cupped his face tenderly.

“So who got the bump on the noggin that Gojie prayed to me about? Was it you little Lysander?” She tilted the chin of the lad and sat in pappy’s lap beside him. He nodded his head, and she cooed at him. She wiped down his cheek where a small red welt was forming, then gingerly applied a salve while singing to him softly. Once he smiled up at her again, his tail whacking against Logitur’s stomach, Goveline retreated from the space. Opting to sit in an arm chair opposite Logitur by the fireplace. She rocked with little Lysander losing his fight against a nap in her lap. He continued to tell the story now that everything was settled.

“Wilkes and Erik rushed into the danger, refusing to let their friend face it alone. They fought bravely against the pirates, whittling them down to a retreat being necessary. Yet the day of victory was not a purely joyous one.” Logitur paused as he stared at the next few paragraphs. At the lines of text that defined him. At the foundation of his first fate.

“Beloved, you do not have to read this part if you don’t wish to.” Goveline spoke softly to him. He shook his head, resting his face behind his hand for a moment. The kids all tried to console him at once. They’d never seen pappy look sad before, except for when he’d jokingly walk into the cellar before magically reappearing in the kitchen with ice cream to share. The divine weaver of storms, the sailor between dreams, their immortal ancestor had begun to weep.

“W-Wilkes stood there. He stood alone in the aftermath. There on those cruel stones, washed in red he knelt. He cradled the body of his own mother. He remained there, weeping and gnashing his teeth through the night. Crying out to any god or witness, in his grief he swore an oath. That every pirate would pay for what they stole. Every coin of gold and life of innocence would be repaid in blood.” Pappy read the words aloud and fully buried his face in his hands. The memory and the retelling crashing in on him at the same time. He cried for his mother again. For a woman so buried in the past, the modern historians had her as a footnote. And yet she had been his entire world.

The children rose from their rug, a militia some thirty strong save for the sleeping Lysander. They crowded his rocking chair and rested reassuring hands on him. Patting his shoulders and back like he would when they did something good. Ruffling his hair as he often did for them when they got hurt to distract them. The most damning display of love from all these wonderful beings was the prayers that he heard flooding from their minds. Prayers for him to have peace. Prayers for their pappy to be happy. Prayers to meet their “greatest” granny one day. He had weathered so much, but here and now he allowed himself to weep.

“Pappy is tired, children, I think it best if we move along now. Who would like to play in the gardens with me?” Goveline spoke up, still cradling the young Lysander. He was fully curled up against her chest and the crook of her arm. He just looked so innocent and peaceful. He was reminded of the time when all his sons looked like that. The waves of nostalgia soothed him behind bleary vision. The children followed Goveline out the door, Gojie remained kneeling by his rocking chair.

“Logitur, I’m here for you now. Just like you were for me all those years ago. We can sit and chat or I can take you to bed. Somnia will help you rest there.” She spoke softly, wiping some of the tears that continued to fall down his face. He scratched at the eye patch with his newly returned right hand.

“I’d like to see the rest of our loves if that’s manageable? Somnia is still here, and I just saw Goveline. Where are the others?” He asked softly, still sniffling slightly.

“Undaria and Nu’Mie are out sailing with your core avatar and Pauline darling” She chewed her lip for a second. “But I think you forgot that in dreaming all your memories back.” Gojie spoke patiently, she could see him degrading again now that he wasn’t reading the book anymore. A tight knit frown marred her face. He visibly deflated in the chair, the sadness degrading this avatar further.

“Noe and Nysir should be near enough to see you while you still have some lucidity.” She cut in quickly.

“I’ll go to them, they’re still here in rex flaura correct?” He perked up at the mention of his closer lovers.

“Indeed, down in the docks of springdale. I’ll race you there Sailor.” Gojie taunted him before bolting through the door. Her body turned into a wave like form, her hair becoming the silver crest atop it as she moved with super natural speed. She never would have beat him in a race in his prime. Hopefully as just a lingering avatar she could at least challenge him enough so that he could remember that. A deafening roar of thunder behind her answered the question. The sailor moved like he hadn’t in ages. Swaying strides along an unseen current, swapping between running, cartwheeling, hand springs, and other acrobatic moves she didn’t even know the names of. There he was again.

He laughed loudly as they ran the radius of the country. Out their palace and through the sprawling honey jungle. The wilds were no stranger to either of them, but the sight of them breathed fresh hope into the nation.

The former emperor was running again. He was laughing again. Despite everything The Tempest decided he would endure. His joy and determination lit a fire in their hearts over again. In the coming weeks their efforts would redouble. Poets would write new ballads, Architects would design new wonders, and Warriors would spar with refreshed zeal. But that was later. Now, in this wonderful moment, Logitur remembered himself.

The mudslime never saw him coming. She looked exactly as he remembered. A gnomish build, hips and chest as wide as she was tall, but a body seemingly made out of living mud. A small tiara on her head bore a resemblance to golem kinder architecture, all gold and pharaohly. Her linen robes were the same deep slate he had chosen for her on their wedding night. She was scooped from her diminutive height up to his full stature and twirled in those loving, strong arms.

“Uh-uh p-p-put me down this instant whoever you are! I am lady Noe Tempest! Wife of Logitur and Goddess of Rain!” The mudslime spoke angrily.

“Yeah! What’s the big idea you mouth breathing, half baked- handsome, life fulfilling sailor!” Nysir began to rant then squealed with glee when she saw who it was. The hell hound leapt at him, knocking the pair to the ground as she excitedly kissed all over his face.

“W-Wait, is it really?! LOGIE!” The diminutive goddess cried out, joining in the raining of kisses.

“Easy ladies! We’re in public!” Logitur tried to calm the two, but the assault refused to let up. He merely wrapped an arm around the waist of each wife and let them clear their system. He grumbled to himself while a dopey smile spread across his face “Guess I’ll explain later.”

It was good to be loved.