Fungal Halo

My thoughts heave and surge like the tide, flooding, claiming, reshaping the world around me. However, so little of this is my design. The world is clay in my hands, but my hands are not alone, and my hands are not even entirely my own. I recognize Velle’s fingerprints here and there, nudging reality in delicate and subtle ways that contrast with my own wild flailing. Something within me lashes out even at those I love, possibly because I love them. My mind has become a kitchen with too many cooks, all of whom hate me.

The king’s palace leaves much to be desired. The moment I step foot inside, the first thing I notice is how poorly lit it is compared to mine. Dim and drab and dull, this is what passes for opulence, I guess, anywhere that lacks the benefit of Goddess’s touch. And that’s why we’re here, isn’t it? We will fix this world.

For the first time in longer than I can remember, I wake up pain-free.

I also seem to be completely naked in an unfamiliar bed with someone else’s arms around me. I feel and smell filthy. With a groan of disgust, I try to regain my bearings. Memories of what happened yesterday slowly drift back to me as though from a great distance away.

I know when my Goddess returns by the way the whole palace comes alive in Her presence. The floor, the walls, even the very air carries a subtle vibration of Her power when She, the beating heart of our home, steps foot inside. My legs buoyed with renewed energy, the anticipation of laying eyes upon Her again carries me onward with quickened steps.