I wasn’t a worshipper. I rode from one town to the next, traded my wares, and laughed at the heroes building their temples. It was a simple life, a forgettable one.
That night was dark, darker if not by the sky, by my temperament. I had seen too many villagers harassed by monsters, their meagre possessions of premarital hex’s, note’s to self, and empty cookie jars, taken. It was that night she found me.
“Paranthelion, do you know who I am?” she asked, her light taking the form of a sphinx as she spoke.
I swallowed hard and lowered my eyes from her gaze. “No, my Lady”, I answered, “I can see you are most divine, you are of purest light, but there are many gods of this world and I am ignorant of their names.”
“You are both wise and eloquent, dear one, I have chosen well. I am Arivelle, the Lion’s Will.”
Her voice resonated through my room and into my heart, but it was her words that made me tremble. “Chosen? Am I to be your hero, my Lady?” I was terrified. I had seen the lives of heroes, the deaths of heroes. I would be a shameful champion, surely she knew that. “My mind may be sharp, but it will not cut your foes. My silver-tongue will not make gold bricks for your temple…”
The Sphinx’s smile interrupted my sputtering and forgivingly she said “Paranthelion, your heart is noble, but it is not valiant. You need not fear, I have not chosen you to be my hero.”
I was immediately relieved, but found my relief quickly became disappointment. To be her hero would have been a challenging life, a memorable life and in my unworthiness I had lost what I never knew I needed.
Without acknowledging my sense of failure she continued. “In the town of Godville I have created a hero. She will be my vessel to bring my blessings to your world and, in time, to build my temple in my name. Newly born, she is naive and foolish, but her heart has already led her to first quest.”
I thought of the life this heroine would lead, I envied her purpose, but lamented the untold suffering and labours she would bear. “My Lady, why have you told me this? Surely you have better ways to announce your creation than house calls to every worthless trader in Tradeburg?”
The room twinkled with a cascade of light and dancing shadows and I realized I had witnessed the laughter of a god. “My dear one, I have a much better way than by house call. I have decided you will be my prophet, writer of the chronicles of my heroine. You are to travel to Godville at once to find her and from there you will shadow her on her quests. She should not know of you, your presence would only distract her from my work.”
I was moved by the task my divine Lady had given me and my eyes held back the tears of gratitude and love for my benefactor. Eager to begin I began to pack my few possessions to trade for quills, paper and ink on the road. “How will I find your hero? Does she have a name?”
The Sphinx’s face enigmatic, but she answered anyway, "Her name is Evangelione and in your chronicles you may say it means “the bearer of the Lion’s gospel.”
And in that moment a book appeared before me and emblazoned on its brown leather cover were the words “The Chronicles of Evangelione”. Rudely, without thinking I asked, “my Lady, why the ‘e’ on the end?”
Without malice she patiently answered, "because “Evangelion” was already taken" and then the Sphinx vanished leaving only her riddle-some answer and a quest to keep me company on my travel to Godville.
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My Goddess burned the following words into my notes. I know not what it means, but I dare not edit or remove it. – Paranthelion
For more entries in the Chronicles of Evangelione, starting with “The Road to Godville” visit my wiki page, but please remember to rate my chronicles from this page! – Arivelle