The Sadness of a Goddess

"The river ran backwards on the day the Queen vanished. And it was I that did that mortal, never forget that, if you want to live that is." And she smiled at Baj as she said it, and he was grateful for that smile even if the words behind it were poisonous. Such was the nature of Gods and Goddesses. No matter what they said or did you could not help but be entranced by them. However, Baj had spent close to ten years as her servant, and, in that time, he had developed techniques for resisting her powers. Her words and smile still effected him, but not to nearly the extent of most and he delighted in reminding her of that fact.

"And what is your opinion, Goddess?" Baj immediately regretted those words coming out of his mouth for he knew the answer he would get even before it escaped the rouge red, pouty lips of the Goddess. It was one of her favorite pith philosophical observations on the nature of Gods and mortals, and no matter how often she said it (a lot) it also pleased her to no end and irked the ever living shit out of Baj. This is no doubt one of the reasons she took so much delight in saying it. "Gods and Goddesses do not have opinions mortal, for once we say something it is a fact." Baj groaned out loud and snorted, drawing a look from the Goddess that could freeze the ocean and a sharp snap of pain across his mind as she punished him with a mental slap. It stung, much worse than an actual whip, which is what it was meant to emulate. This was how the Goddess maintained control of her servants. Of course, that same whip could be used to deliver great pleasure as well, great pleasure. As to what either did for the Goddess Baj could not say, but in this instance at least the ability to punish must have brought her some satisfaction for she smiled and laughed wickedly as he winced in pain, dropping to one knee from the force of it. "Do not forget your place mortal. Do not mock your Goddess. Ever." He glared up at her from his one knee and replied quietly "Of course Goddess, Please forgive me my insolence. Sometimes I forget just how holy and exalted you actually are." The Goddess smiled, pleased at his words of contrition even though they were said without a shred of earnesty. Even after untold milennia of living among mortals she still struggled mightily to grasp the concepts of sarcasm and irony. This fact gave Baj much pleasure and he constantly mocked the Goddess in ways she thought of as genuine admiration and praise. It was one of the very few ways he had of fighting back against the barrage of minor humilations she threw in his direction.

The mental punishment doled out by the the Goddess to Baj and her other servants could be controlled to a significant degree. Both the intensity of pain as well as its duration could be varied depending on the severity of the infraction. Minor mistakes such as speaking out of turn or failing to show the proper amount of respect might result in pain equivalent to that of a bee sting, and last only a second or two. As quick as it came it was gone. These sorts of punishments were intended merely as reminders and whenever Baj was "stung" as he called it, he could not help but think of a dog being reprimanded by its owner with a slap on the backside or a loudly yelled no. The humiliation of it was much more painful than the actual physical or mental impact. It infuriated Baj to no end and the Goddess new this, and took great delight in torturing him with stings at various times for reasons that either made no sense, or for no reason at all. Whenever she did this she would smile or laugh or just raise one eye slightly in his direction. If he were not a mortal, and she not a Goddess he might think she were trying to flirt with him. A bit like the young girl in gradeschool who kicks the boy sitting in front of her in class, not because she really thinks he is a stinky poo-face but because she thinks he is a cutie-pie. For both the Goddess and the young schoolgirl it is all about the attention, the pain is just a tool to get it. More serious infractions might result in more severe pain. Direct disobedience of an order from the Goddess was sure to earn at least a "burn", again that was a term Baj and the other servants used, he had no idea, nor did he care, what the Goddess called it. A burn was equivalent in pain to that of a second or third degree burn and could last anywhere from one minute to many hours or even days depending on many factors. What those factors actually were was never clear, and the Goddess published no rule book or book of punishments and never felt the need to justify a punishment either before or after it was given. It was seemingly completely and totally arbitrary, and the best Baj could ever tell the severity and length of any given punishment was most directly proportional to the level of personal humiliation or hurt that had been caused to the Goddess. The more she was personally impacted emotionally, the more severe was the punishment. A servant could kill another mortal in cold blood and his punishment would be less than one who dared question a decision made by the Goddess or suggested that she was not the most beautiful of all the Goddesses to walk the mortal plane. There were also no female servants or supplicants of the Goddess. She would accept none as acolytes and would take none as forced servants either. Once he had asked the Goddess about this and after he would never dare to mention it again.

As soon as the question had escaped his lips, the bright blue green eyes of the Goddess began to glow and he could not look away. He was being drawn deep into them, his very life essence sucked into the Goddesses eyes by a great whirlpool made of her emotions. Anger, hatred, pain, and regret were the water and waves which fed it, and at its center stood a gaping black maw, and he knew that it was sorrow and sadness of which it was composed. It was a grief so deep that all the other emotions had become trapped in orbit about it, forever swirling around the massive center of gravity this grief had created. And he was falling, falling ever more rapidly toward this terrible sorrow, and he felt that surely he would die so overwhelmed was he by the Goddess's emotions. Only moments before he was about to fall into that pitch black darkness he snapped back to himself and found himself looking at the Goddess, her face a blank slate, her eyes returned to their normal brilliant blue green, but tears were streaming down his face like a baby, and he felt such great and terrible sadness, more then he could bear. He stood and ran away as far and as fast as he could, found a cool spot underneath a large oak tree and cried. He cried for two days straight, even while he slept, barely managing to eat and drink and nothing else. He still had the occassional nightmare about that time, even two years later. Every time he did he would awaken with tears running down his face and he would cry until he felt he could cry no more. Mortals were not meant to feel the emotions of Gods. They were just too much for a man to bear. He did not envy the Gods because of this, in fact he felt sadness for them, at least he felt what sadness a mere mortal could feel.