Bonus Chapter: A Goddess's Dream (1) [Patreon] (Patreon)

My eyes snapped awake to the sight of pews and pillars, a wooden alter and tall, coloured windows.

Serenity washed over me. Nostalgia and forgotten memories. The scent of familiar wood was like a balm to my soul, reminding me of all the good things worth dying for. It was only fitting that a place like this smelled like the heavens.

It was, after all, a church.

Specifically, it was the church I had spent much of my time growing up. An ordinary church much like any other, funded by donations, good-will, and the business acumen of the Sisters, whose sense of coin surpassed even the most experienced of merchants.

And then I remembered that I was not in a church.

I was sitting in a bumpy carriage, riding into the night on the way to the northern lines.

And that this was not right.

The haze swept away from me. Immediately, I assumed a combat posture and went for my sword.

I did not manage to draw it. Instead, my eyes settled on the other only figure within this modest hall.

It was neither Iris nor Magnus, whose presences I could not feel. But it was someone familiar to me, nonetheless. Deeply so.

Even from behind, I could recognise the way she piously prayed.

As she sat on the pew nearest the alter, I could only be impressed at the way she held herself. Despite the many hours in that same position, she still had her body and head slightly bent at the correct angle. The one I often failed to achieve for more than a few moments.

She was the person who had tutored me more than any other. She'd taught me letters, numbers and holy scriptures, and the threat of a book to my head if I failed to remember any of them.

“Sister Ana?”

My voice sounded like a whip within this peaceful hall.

And yet I wanted to voice myself even louder. To shout and to warn. To dare those who'd taken me or bespelled me to reveal themselves.

This could not be the church of my hometown. And that could not be Sister Ana, who'd left for the Royal Cathedral long before I had even gotten the chance to reveal to her that I had been chosen as an ordained hero.

I was not so foolish as to think that this was a miraculous chance at making up for a lost regret.

Instead, I kept my hand on my hilt as I approached the figure sitting on the front pew. Yet I did not draw my sword, even as I willed myself to.

It was as though something beyond me was holding back my hand, preventing me from doing any action other than what was expressly permitted.

A feeling that I had only recently experienced.

“This … This can't be ...”

I passed the side of the pew, then turned to see the figure sitting in front of me.

The woman looked up, breaking free of her nodding posture, but not of the hands still clasped in pious prayer.

I was stunned.

So much so, that in that moment, my hand fell from the hilt of my sword.

It was Sister Ana. And yet it was not.

The woman in front of me shared her likeness, but in specific matters, it was clear that this could not have been the same person.

Because whereas Sister Ana was not by any means uncomely, she was certainly no Iris. Heads would not turn as she passed. She was the definition of plain. A woman whose draw was her piety and her kindness, rather than her alluring appearance.

The Sister Ana in front of me, was the opposite.

The pale skin, shrouded by her robes, was now a rich tan. A necklace adorned her neck, as did rings of rubies and emeralds. Her eyelashes were long and her eyes were bright and dazzling. And the complexion of her face was young and faultless.

It was Sister Ana had she been a decade younger, and instead of spending her time praying, instead enjoyed the same beaches that Magnus had done growing up.

But these were all cosmetic changes.

The biggest change was far greater.

Literally.

The size of her bust, which had never registered in my mind growing up, was ridiculous.

The robes she wore, usually so adept at covering any hint of a woman's body, was stretched to contain what was possibly the only bust to surpass even Iris's in size. It was frankly ridiculous.

“Hey, hey. Peace, peace.”

And then she spoke, and while still keeping her hands clasped together, twisted the ends of two fingers into a peace sign.

Still, I was stunned.

“Eyes to the sky, my champion.”

In that same voice I remembered, I looked up from the insane protrusion of her robes and examined the woman with the face of my childhood tutor.

Then, I raised an eyebrow.

“Did you really have to give her such huge assets?”

Before me, the Goddess of Love smiled.

“Improvements here and there. It was infuriating. I could not aid her, even though I would have bent the rules for her sake. Never in all her prayers did she ask for me to help increase the size of her breasts. It was always 'save the poor', 'feed the children', 'defeat the darkness'. I'm a miracle worker, and yet I felt like my talents were completely wasted.”

Perhaps I should have been appalled at the words of the Goddess of Love, the most revered deity of warmth and kindness, openly admitting to wishing she could save women from small breasts more than feeding the mouths of hungry children.

In fact, I was calm.

Far too calm for what was a meeting with my patron Goddess.

Nothing about her words or her attitude surprised me. It was as though I was meeting with someone I had known my whole life.

“This isn't the first time we've met, is it?”

Although I had no memories or recollections of ever meeting the Goddess of Love, I knew in my heart of hearts that this was not anywhere near the first time I had been appalled by her words.

“No, it's not. Otherwise you would remember that this visage of your childhood tutor was one you had professed to being curious about seeing.”

And perhaps it was better than remembering was not the case.

Otherwise, guilt would dog me long into my sleep.

“Uh, yeah ... that sounds like something I would say. Although I'm guessing there's a reason I don't remember asking to see Sister Ana with such an overwhelming chest size?”

The Goddess of Love gave a casual shrug.

For some reason, seeing such a powerful being acting so cosily was far more troubling to me than if she'd actually been a black terror, as many cultists liked to believe.

“Perhaps if you spent less time masturbating and more on scholarly pursuits, your brain would be more accustomed to remembering important information. Haven't you heard the rumour? Repeated masturbation results in diminished thought capacity.”

I stared at her in horror.

“Is that actually true?”

“No.”

Shit, she almost had me there.

“Masturbation is a simple act of love,” she carried on. “You would not seek pleasure in thinking of something you despised, now would you?”

I couldn't answer.

To be frank, there were all sorts of weirdos out there. And I fully counted myself among them.

“Anyway, questions later. I have not summoned you to this pocket of my realm without due cause. We have important business to discuss. My champion, I am here to offer a warning.”

I stood up straighter.

However, despite the actual hint of seriousness in her voice, it did not in any way match with her ludicrous appearance. It was terrible to try adjusting to it.

“A powerful foe approaches. You are imperilled, as are the innocents you are sworn to protect. The axe will fall, but before that comes the sickle, to sweep away the necks of those who would peer above the high ramparts they defend.”

“The Demon King?”

I didn't know what to say, mostly because the advance of the Demon King was nothing new to me. Whether it was an axe or a sickle, we were more than aware of the looming large-scale assault.

The Goddess of Love, meanwhile, merely shook her head.

“You look for the head of the beast, whereas you should look for the tail. The dreaded commander comes forth, not in fire but in shadow. He who walks the path of the Dark Gods, and will one day surpass his master, should his time not end in the mortal world. Your path intercedes with his. You must be ready.”

Immediately, I felt my stomach drop.

There was only one being that matched that description. And while I liked to hope that the Demon King was the worst of all things we could face, the fact of the matter is that his realm held more monsters than even a child's nightmares could contain.

“What should we do?”

“Trust. Trust in your companions. And in fate, for that is something which I can guide, should you offer the one resource which I cherish above all.”

“And that is?”

The Goddess of Love smiled.

“Faith.”

I waited for more. None came.

“Is that all? It's a bit … yeah, vague.”

The Goddess of Love shrugged again.

“Rules and all. You know how it is.”

Somehow, I actually did.

Shit, what kind of conversations have we had in the past? It's surreal that not only was I speaking to my patron Goddess, but that we were on casual speaking terms. If the real Sister Ana knew about this, she'd simultaneously worship me while beating me up.

“Fortunately for you, I come as more than a harbinger of vague warnings. As is only just as your beloved Goddess, I come to offer you a reward for valour extended, etcetera etcetera. Though you do not know it, your simple defiance in standing atop the staircase in Blackrose closed a road that would have led to untold tragedy. Using a door as a shield? Hilarious. A for effort.”

I could only offer her a wry smile.

It's not like I could curse at her.

Literally. Even as I opened my mouth, I could not emit the words.

“If I recall, I had little choice in the matter. You prevented either myself or Iris from moving.”

“Incorrect. I prevented you from moving in the wrong direction. There was a 15% chance you would survive the battle.”

I opened my mouth to form the curse words. The Goddess of Love seemed bemused by the attempt.

“In any event, you survived, and as is your rightful due, I offer a reward to encourage your continued blind obedience to my cause. Although I should add that it is only you who require these things. The White Knight only asks for my presence.”

“The White Knight is a sucker.”

“Yes, I agree. I will attempt to find more like him. Now, what would you like?”

“A sword,” I said at once. “Unblockable and undodgable, imbued with the holy power to smite all evil in a single strike.”

“I said you had a 15% chance to survive. If you had clashed with all the minions of the Demon King and emerged victorious, you would perhaps have done just enough to earn such a weapon.”

“Then no sword?”

“No sword.”

The Goddess of Love leaned closer, still with her hands clasped in prayer.

Prayer to who, I had no idea. I suspected I did not want to ask.

“No … I will give you a reward to cherish. But it will not be something to rust like a sword or sold like a trinket. I will give you something lasting. You will not remember anything of this meeting, save for the warning if my ploy has gone unnoticed. But in this small reward, you will remember.”

“... Is it too late to ask for a sword or a trinket?”

The Goddess of Love laughed. It was like the sound of summer bells.

“Perhaps if that was what you truly wanted. No, I will offer you something far dearer to your heart.”

It was as though mentioning it was the trigger.

All of a sudden, I could feel my heart beginning to race. I looked at the guise of the Goddess of Love, and I knew without asking what it was she would give me.

I knew, because more than myself, this fickle Goddess surely understood the desires of my heart.

And that made me fear more than anything else.

“As your reward, I will offer you something you were not meant to see. A dream, if you will.”

“A dream?”

An image immediately raced through my mind. The smile of my most cherished person. And then that same smile, now dyed in a shade of something else.

Something I was not meant to see.

Did that mean …

“Fortunately, I am the Goddess of Love, and granting such things are simple to me. But only should you request it.”

Several heartbeats passed. I found myself still with conflicting emotions. A part of me wanted to immediately reject her offer, knowing that even the Goddess's rewards came with stipulations. This was not my first time conversing with her after scraping past death, and so long as I continued accepting her boons, it would not be the last.

And yet, almost without input, I found myself slowly nodding.

The thing I was not supposed to see.

Was that because it never happened?

Or was it because I was never meant to witness it?

I looked at the woman praying in front of me, then shivered as my body began to feel numb with trepidation.

“Is … that is, will what you show really just be a dream?”

The Goddess of Love paused.

Then, she smiled faintly.

“Why, I suppose that is a matter of definition.”