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War Queen

When your fate has already been determined decades before you're born, there's nothing you can do but fall in line. Meet Nuala, our female protagonist, who had been destined to save the world from the wrath of the gods. Thrown into the evil forest, fresh from her mother's womb, Nuala is brought up by a god to somehow bring peace to her world and theirs. We can only but hope that she succeeds.

Kikiyobear · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
20 Chs

Chapter 2

Nobody ever said growing up was going to be easy. However, I doubt my living conditions were what they had in my mind when making that valid statement. Think about it, who would have thought of a human living in the plane of the gods and goddesses that we worshipped—obviously, nobody.

And who would have thought that my surviving rates would be this high? I am still alive. Again, absolutely nobody, including myself. My caretaker, known as Arthuila, was a minor god in the grand scheme. I believe that to be the reason I was still alive. None of the gods that I was meant to fight and kill was aware of my being, which could be a significant downfall on their sight but a substantial blessing for me.

I had often wondered aloud about my parents, my people, my home but still got no answers. He had said that he knew little to nothing about the human world because people don't often worship him. As a god of calamity, he was only called when towns needed to best one another. Now that calamity from the gods falls on humans, and no one was looking for a calamity god.

Despite being known as a horrible man, he was gentle with me. He refused to teach me to fight until I was ten and still refused to teach me how to use real weapons or any weapon. He first taught me about my world, my people. He told me of a time far earlier than me, when my people used to flourish, and the gods used to be at peace with us. Unfortunately, he didn't tell me the reason why the gods turned their backs on us. He claimed it was too sorrowful for him to remember and me to hear.

We had a routine. Every day, he would leave at what he called dawn and come back by sunset. During the day, I wasn't allowed to leave the hut lest I be found. Most would have thought it annoying, I called it boring a lot, or that was until he changed things. He used his powers to project his memories on the walls and the roof. I saw things from his past, mainly war and dead people, but sha I noticed something.

It was from there I was able to learn most of what he couldn't say to me. Then, after he came back, he taught me things to help me survive if something happened to him. I had spent sixteen years in his hut and learned things that, if I went back, would help us flourish. It was then I knew how great the gods were. Their powers were unbelievable. Then tragedy struck.

I had no idea how they figured out he cared for me or even about the loophole to their prophecy. Arthuila had no friends whatsoever, and those that still pledged to him had sworn secrecy. So, it was practically impossible for them to know of me, but they did. It happened so suddenly. I could have sworn he wouldn't win until I saw him transform. Then, like the quick rat (he was always eating something, anything), he changed into an eagle and flew away with me in his grasp.

I had expected them to follow until I realized they were stuck looking at us from the ground. It was then I realized that powers were different.

While most gods had very flashy powers, they didn't have it all. But, it was what helped to enforce the balance of power. So, most gods had; telekinesis, the ability to shapeshift, call on the weather element they oversee, teleport, see the future and do fantastic things.

So, the lesser gods were left with minor powers but were unique to each one of them. That was his power, and he used it most times to scare me and play pranks. The hut was small, but it was ours, and now that was gone. I wasn't aware of what he thought as he flew us a great distance away from our former home. He didn't feel angry nor sad, nor dejected. It felt like he was trying to forget the experience. I wasn't sure if that was good or bad. I just decided to go with the flow.

After flying for years but was hours, we had landed in front of a waterfall. I was confused because Arthuila had never mentioned knowing someone near a waterfall. Still, it didn't look like it was going to be a pleasant meeting from the moment he drew his sword. It then clicked in my mind that this was probably the person that ratted us out and caused the invasion of our home.

I was angry, but I wasn't vengeful enough to want the god's blood, but I guess that's where we differed. He was going to kill that person and probably enjoy it. So I just decided to stay out of it. I sat on a rock far away from the forming battleground.

''Come out, a big piece of ish. I know it was you because, like a fool, I trusted the god known with a blabbermouth. Come out before I come in.''

And just like that, a not to be rude, a fat god came out running to him. Seeing him made me question my belief that all gods were fit. Then I remembered who he was, the one god who could open his mouth and sing other people's secrets like they were a song, Milliam.

He was the god of greed. He traded people's secrets for anything ranging from food to clothes to gold and worshippers. He never sold the secrets of his worshippers, but he would sell it to the highest bidder if he can hear what you are planning and doing. I guess his loyalty wasn't even with gods. He didn't beg for mercy; instead, of trying to twist the situation into looking good for him. How cunning of him.

It wasn't up to five minutes before his head came off and rolled to me. One quick fact about gods, it's not easy to kill them. Even chopping their heads off doesn't necessarily kill them. It's the death and lack of belief that kills them—knowing that I found it hard to understand what he was planning. Nevertheless, the regrowth period showed that people still believed in him.

And then it made sense; he was going to kill him until his people stop believing in him. Again, and again and again. Repeatedly.

After a few hours of repeated bashing and cursing, Arthy released his hold on his head and flopped on the ground. Without his anger, he looked tired and out of it. It seemed like the situation had finally caught up with his brain, and everything seemed bleak. He had lost his hut, a critical way of connecting with the few people that worship him.

A fact to be known of gods is their abodes. Their homes or lands are secure gateways to communicate with their worshippers. It matters not where they are; their homes can easily transport them. A god without a home is a wondering chicken without its head. A home is sacred, and to lose that was a thing of great shame.

Watching as the skies turned grey, I wondered exactly where we would sleep. We couldn't exactly go back there; I was sure they were waiting for us. But it was possible that they also knew we would land here. They might have even been on their way. We had waisted enough daylight prosecuting him, and we were going to pay if we couldn't find a decent place to settle for the night.

''Arthy, I hope you have gotten rid of your anger and resentment, but where are we meant to lay low now? I mean, is it my fault you trusted the obvious backstabber? See, don't make me suffer before I fight them, oh. Me, I'm not ready for this kind of wahala.''

Pouting and looking forward, I contemplate moving to the home behind the waterfall. Like I told him, I cannot come and kill myself. I'm going to rest in his home.

I was sad and angry, but that didn't mean I would spend the day trashing it out like angry warthogs. I wasn't an animal, and I wasn't going to behave like one. Thinking back to it, I didn't see how I was meant to defeat the biggest gods. Killing a god was naturally impossible; killing the biggest and worst gods were tougher, even in theory. If I had to depend on the humans not believing, that would take quite some time.

It wasn't like I could leave and send a message there, and boom! Instant disbelief in the gods. Nope, things like this took time and needed someone on the outside helping. At the age of sixteen, the actual weight of my destiny finally weighed on my shoulders.

How did my parents think I would be able to get this done? What caused Arthy to believe that a small girl, not even a boy, would be able to stop what I could swear and would swear is inevitable? How am I meant to end the apocalypse when my mere day to day survival is in the hands of a god who has now lost the only thing that gave me a sense of security.

I was utterly screwed, and that was the most helpful thing I could say. As I was thinking, I was looking for food. They had interrupted us before we had eaten, we flew for a while, and still, I had to watch him beat someone for some time. I was famished.

Eureka! I found what I was looking for, food. There were lots of fruits and meats drying over the fire. I was surprised that nothing terrible had happened to the provision due to the lengthy time we spent outside. He came back and, without a word, joined me to eat. We ate in a silence full of mourning as we took the gourd filled with water, raised it for our sadness. After a full stomach, I settled down for a nap.

Before I slept, the last thing I remembered was him looking like he was ready for war. Maybe having a god on my side would help tilt the balance against my destruction.

Dying is inevitable… but we do have control over what people would remember us by…

I wasn't sure why I chose that sunrise for the quote to ring in my head. It wasn't like I was about to die, or death had knocked a few times at my door (trust me when I say he can do that). But it was true. If I die without rescuing my people, what would that mean for my legacy? How would I be remembered?

As the girl who had the hope of her world on her shoulders and disappointed everyone? Or as the one who forgot her destiny? Only I know, and now everything is a blank space. Arthy was still asleep, so I went about my morning routines. I had made clothing out of the fur lining the cave and bathed in the waterfall. Max's body still hung from the post he had erected and seemed to have started decomposing.

Looking around, I wondered when they would find and chase us. I had expected it to be before we woke up, but once more, nothing had happened. Did they think we had given up or were patiently waiting for us to trip and reveal ourselves? I guess it doesn't sound like such a bad idea after all. Maybe when I have exhausted all possible ventures, I'd try that one. Now I must think of a plan…