Killing a Godking Chapter 2 (Patreon)

** Again, bit of a depressing story so uh, yeah. **

I woke slowly, a twitch of the toe there, a subtle shift of weight here. I felt so strange, this body was not mine, not the one I was used to. I knew I’d been put in a child’s body, but I didn’t quite understand what that would really mean until I was actually in it. I was so weak too, but I was willing to bet that my atrophied muscles were the fault of a year spent unmoving in bed more than anything else.

As my senses slowly expanded to fill this new body, so too did I begin to receive signals from outside of it. The room smelled of flowers, a gentle scent that didn’t quite overpower the smell of dust and stale air. There was also another smell, rich and unique to a house that had stood for ages. It was the indescribable smell of old wood worn down with use, the faint vanilla that came off old books as the lignin within the pages broke down.

Finally, I opened my eyes to stare cautiously around the room. First was the high ceiling, panelled in enamelled tin with a pattern of swirling vines that repeated itself from wall to wall. Morning sunlight lit drifting motes of dust as they danced in the slowly heating air of the room, while wispy translucent curtains fluttered in a lethargic breeze.

I twitched and gave a pained groan as pins and needles raced through every limb of my body, voice rough with disuse. A gasp came from beside me, and I turned my head to find a young woman, probably as old as I had been before I died.

She wore a strange outfit that took me a moment to parse, some sort of maid outfit. A few white frills while the rest of her was covered in a simple black cloth dress. Fully covered too, this was no sexy maid outfit worn to a halloween party, this was the real deal. She even wore white gloves, which left her head as the only skin showing.

“You’re awake!” she blurted, staring at me like I’d just risen from the dead. Which is actually exactly what had just happened, but she didn’t need to know that.

I pulled my hand out from beneath the covers to stare at it a moment, the curious part of me marvelling at how it felt to have such dainty, childs hands again. The maid continued to watch me, fascinated as I moved and shifted, wincing as my body protested any sort of movement after so long spent laying bedridden.

“Yeah… I guess I am,” I finally sighed, closing my eyes again as I became exhausted with the simple effort of thought.

When I opened them again, the maid had multiplied, and along with the second one was another woman, older and in much finer clothing. It was the type of dress I’d seen in movies like Pride and Prejudice, victorian era or something, I couldn’t remember. She’d taken the seat next to my bed and was holding my hand with anxious determination.

“Sorry, I fell asleep,” I mumbled, blinking blearily up at her. Now to play the guessing game. I had no idea what her name was or her relationship to me. Hell, I didn’t even know my own name.

“Oh, my sweet girl,” the older woman said at a low, reverent volume. She carefully ran her free hand up to push a few stray strands of dark hair out of her eyes. Eyes that held the same honey gold as the body I now inhabited. My mother then?

“Are you… my mother?” I asked tentatively, worry bubbling up through my chest like acid. There was no way I’d be able to fake having the girl’s memories, which meant I’d have to pretend amnesia. How would this woman react when she figured that out? When she realised her daughter had been wiped clean like a classroom whiteboard at the end of the day?

I watched the shock swell through her expression, followed by tears that she quickly wiped away. “Yes,” she said, a smile on her lips regardless. “Yes, I am.” Her next breath was heavy, her eyes searching mine. “Do you know who you are?”

I shook my head gently, the only speed that I could manage. “No.”

She gulped, closing her eyes again and pressing thumb and forefinger to them as she fought for composure. “Leave the room,” her voice strong but wavering as she spoke to the two maids.

They bustled out of the room with twin curtsies, the only sound they made that of their maid’s dresses rustling as they walked with careful steps. Once they were gone, she opened her eyes again and her tears were allowed to flow freely.

“What did that monster do to you?” she whispered, reaching out to stroke a soft hand over my hair.

“Monster?” I asked weakly, although this was something I knew a little about. I wondered if she knew that the thing that got her daughter had sucked the soul out of her?

“The… nevermind,” she said, shaking her head as she thought better of a full explanation. “A terrible magical beast… it attacked you, put you into an endless sleep. So few who are afflicted will ever wake up again but I… I never gave up hope, even as your father and brother did so,” she told me, tears welling up again to spill down onto the bed.

Interesting. So I wasn’t the only one who’d been placed into a soulless body before. I was willing to bet that if the god king or whatever of this empire was anything like his brother, then those monsters hadn’t been eradicated for a reason.

Also, apparently I was in for another oh so loving father. Shit. My throat felt thick all of a sudden, a lump forming there was I closed my eyes against the surge of all too recent trauma. I didn’t want to do that again… please?

“Oh, my dear child,” she murmured soothingly, arms going around me.

The move startled me and I twitched violently, a squeak of fear coming from my small lips. God, was I so broken that a simple hug had me cowering in terror? I was pathetic. Shit, I didn’t even know what to do with parental affection like this. My mother… my previous mother had been allergic to any sort of display of affection. If dad had tried to kiss her in front of anyone she’d be grumpy for hours.

“What’s my name?” I asked, the question leaping out of my mouth without thought.

Her response was a harshly sucked in breath, followed by her arms disappearing from around me. I looked up with worry probably plastered all over my new face, but there wasn’t any anger in hers. Just a deep sadness.

I feel you new mum, I feel you. I just lost everything, my entire nearly eighteen years of life had been thrown down the drain by an angry man with a brick. I mean sure, it had sucked… but there were things I’d worked on in that life, achievements that I’d struggled and wrestled out of the universe, even with my teeth if I’d had to. Metaphorically speaking of course, there were very few things that actually required teeth in twenty-first century Earth.

“Aphota. Aphota of house Thanlan,” she told me quietly. “You are our youngest daughter, you have a sister who is three years older than you and a brother who is four.”

“Aphota,” I repeated slowly, sounding my new name out. I didn’t really like it too much… Sounded important though.

Surprisingly, my new mother laughed. “Judging by that expression, you don’t like it? You didn’t like it before either. Had everyone call you Photie.”

“Yeah, I like that more,” I said with a smile that just barely whispered across my lips.

“Alright then, Photie,” she smiled, hand gently coming to rest on my shoulder.

“What is everyone else’s names?” I asked, thinking that I’d probably need to know that pretty soon.

“I am Tageria, your sister is Olleta, your brother is Caim and your father is Nerrik,” she explained matter of factly, listing them off with her finger.

She stared at me, waiting to see if I’d gotten that, and I had… but was she trying to see if I like, remembered them or something? I didn’t, although it was fairly obvious I knew how to speak their language and all that jazz. I was even thinking in it, which was weird. I knew the basics, and I guess it was up to me to figure out the rest. No big briefing from the god in his oversized chair.

“Okay,” I murmured, trying my best to remember the names. I didn’t really have anything else to say. I guess I was sort of going with a plan that had me saying as little as possible while trying to learn as much as possible. The less I said, the less chance that someone would yell at me after all.

Mother gave a sigh and turned her head away for a moment, gazing out at the world beyond the window as the curtains danced gently in the breeze. I could hear distant shouting and what felt like someone banging steel together. Swords maybe? Was I in that kind of world, with knights and big battles and stuff? I kinda hoped not… they tended to be a whole lot worse in reality than the romanticised version we’d read about in stories back on Earth.

What a wild phrase… back on Earth. I was probably going to miss it in a month or two, but right now I was too stunned to have much of an emotional response. So much had happened to me in what felt like the space of an hour. I’d been beaten to death, come face to face with the reality beyond death, met a god and then told I was going to be some insignificant pawn in a celestial pissing match. Oh and now I was speaking to my new mother who thought I was her daughter. God damn. Actually no, damn god.

“You really don’t remember anything, do you?” mother asked, her tone sour and sad.

“I know… some things,” I hedged, fiddling with the sheets as I thought about what to say. “I know that I am a girl… a child. I know what those are. I know that those were servants in here earlier, I know that this is a bed and that is a window and that we are in a room… but I don’t know why I know these things, or anything about who I am.”

“You used to be such a sunny, carefree child,” she said, beginning to weep again. “So many lost years…”

Shit, I was losing her now. Even in my stunned state I knew that I needed her to be on my side going forward, I needed her to see me as her daughter. I needed her to love me in case no one else did. What could I do?

“Ma…” I started, real fear colouring my tone. What if… I might not be all that used to it, but I could hug her, right? Or would that get me in trouble?

I settled for reaching out to clutch at her sleeve, hoping that it was the right move. When I was quickly enveloped in another close hug, I got my answer.

“At least you know me,” she sobbed, squeezing tighter. “You know I’m your ma, that’s… that will be enough.”

“There’s more years to come, ma,” I reminded her gently. How was I the one doing the comforting in this situation? “I’m sorry I lost the past ones.”

“It wasn’t your fault my sweet daughter, it wasn’t your fault,” she cooed through her tears.

I didn’t know what to say to that, so rather than speak at all, I simply leaned in against her and began to absorb just what it felt like to have an adult give a shit about me. It was a strange feeling, and with a cautious sense of curiosity I took it further within myself, turning it over like a rough uncut gem I’d found. At some point during my inspection of the emotion my weary body and mind gave out and I slipped back into sleep.