Am I really getting that old? I guess I am. Time flies when you spend it snoring under a table! Since you’re here, can you help me up? My head is pounding and I seem to be lying in a puddle of…something. Thank you, my friend.
I guess you’ve noticed I’m not the most noteworthy heroine in Godville. All this time and I’m no great Arena champion, famous Writer or hulking tower of Might like I planned when I started this gig. But in recent years questing for the bottom of the bottle has been far more appealing than questing for my absent Lady.
In my younger days I was really going places. Well, my Lady and I, of course. But it was me who did all the work. Yes, I remember like it was yesterday.
The day my Lady found me I was drunk and trying very hard not to fall out of a tree. No, I can’t remember why I was up there, or maybe I can and don’t want to say, but it’s really not important. My Lady happened by and laughed, but She saw my many talents and offered me an important job.
I became a heroine.
She took me inside and sobered me up…sort of…and informed me She was a Goddess. I asked Her exactly what She was a Goddess OF. She just laughed some more, then glanced out the window at the bright sunlight and said “Day”.
“That’s not very helpful. Just… day?” I asked.
“Yep. Just day.”
So my Lady Justday was…and is…and will ever be…and all that good stuff. But between you and me, I still have no idea what She actually does or if She does anything at all. I’m just glad she wasn’t into lightning like some of those other Gods I’ve heard about.
I won’t bore you with tales of my great adventures, it’s enough to say that my deeds were many and truly epic. My beauty was unmatched. My fame spread throughout the land. My Lady was kind and generous. It was glorious! I was glorious. And it was all going to last forever.
My Lady often went to spend time with other Gods and Goddesses in that strange world Outside, but She would always return in a few hours or so. Always, that is, until I started slowly hearing her voice less and less often. Then to my horror one day it stopped altogether. She walked away from me. Me! What could possibly be more important than me, Her great and glorious heroine?
I used to make fun of the abandoned heroes and heroines drinking away their memories in back alleys all over the land, and suddenly I was one of them. It was hell. But eventually I sort of got used to it. I drank and I fell down and I drank some more and I laughed at all the heroes who quested through, so sure of themselves and thinking their glory days would last forever.
Then recently I heard Her voice yelling through a wicked hangover. I ignored Her at first. I didn’t want to go. Her quests weren’t my problem anymore. I’ve earned the right to wallow if I want to, dammit!
But She can be persuasive when She wants to be.
I guess I’m going to be a heroine again.
I do NOT have to like it.
I should probably find some pants and get started. Say…you wouldn’t happen to have a spare bottle of Hair of the Dog, would you my friend? For purely medicinal purposes, you understand. I’m going to need a little something something before we hit the road.