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The God of the Earth had learned from his loss of Hototo. His son. He had been present in his life, teaching, wielding, molding, and he did blame himself to a degree for his death. What if he had let Hototo grow on his own? Learn more from his mother instead? There were many reasons why he chose to stand back from Isopia’s youth, but this was certainly one of them. The girl was growing at a rapid pace, a decision he had made with the others. If he remembered correctly, the sun girl was aging similarly. The atrocities committed by his sister were proof enough that the mortals needed protection from themselves.
Their children had been too young to act and fight, too innocent to understand. Now, they would be able to help, and he listened to Iso sigh with unending patience. Time was irrelevant to the God of the Earth. He could lay in wait for years if needed, just as a river ever flows. Speaking her name, a name that was more than just something to call her, seemed to elicit that response, and he smiled softly. Isopia had taken her time discovering who she was, and that was perfectly all right. Even now, she seemed a little lost.
But when we are ‘lost’, we discover new and wonderful things and roads we may not have found otherwise. To be lost was a rare and beautiful gift. Hopefully she would see this truth – one day.
The God nodded, allowing her room to speak and think without interruption. Only when she was done and her request asked (with the added ‘please’) did he take a deep breath and response. His voice was like a waterfall, powerful and overwhelming, though his tones were warm as earth and softer than a butterfly’s wing. “There is no rush in your life,” he counselled. “Though you may be aging, you can still take time to observe, and just because your body is growing older does not mean that your mind has to as well.”
He smiled. “Learn your languages and discover new civilizations. Those who came before you, many many years ago – the first Helovians, were very interesting. It was they who built the ancient rotunda, but they killed each other in a great war. Very few remain of that lineage, and Helovia was empty for some time, recovering from their bloodshed.”
Her request was innocent and thoughtful, and he nodded, smiling. “A noble request to want something not for yourself but for others,” he replied. “Though the shoes you request will not be easy to make. You will need to go into the caves and bring me back crystal that hangs from the ceiling and water from the deep forest. Once I have these, I will make you your shoes. Please be careful with the caves, however. Take only what you need.”
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Stormy Harbours
