The Sentinal

            There once was a male who was the embodiment of all of the sky and stars above. When he was joyful, the sun shined brightly on the vast lands beneath his watch. When he grew saddened, the wind and rains swept over everything, and when enraged, the thunder storms would echo all around. Days turned to months, which grew into years and centuries. He watched as the creations of the other gods evolved, flourished, and died out. A continuous cycle of life.

            All this time he simply observed from above, never once attempting to interact with others. He enjoyed seeing things brought to life in the spring time. Flowers and crops, creatures and beasts giving birth. The death and stillness of winter reminded him of how lonely he was, so far above everything.

            The gods has created him as this grand guardian, but standing sentry was tiresome. The stars were expansive, but a very cold homestead they made. In being only a sentinel, he could not assist or intervene in any of those lives below. When the magnificent and fierce lizard and bird creatures fell beneath a worldwide meteor shower, all he could do was watch in despair. How could the gods so easily destroy that world? What had they done to deserve becoming forcibly extinct?

            But then there came the beings the gods made in their own images. At first they were cowardly, crude things seeming more animal, than intelligent organisms. Time proved them to be every changing, however. They learned to walk upright instead of dragging their knuckles in the dirt. They went from only gathering seeds and fruits to hunting furred creatures and those that swam in the waters. They discovered fire to cook their meat with.

            Although he once hated them for replacing those he’d watched over before, he quickly found them to be much more entertaining to oversee. After a good many bouts of evolutionary processes, these things now closely resembled the gods who had molded them, breathed life into them. Minus the godheads of immortality and supernatural abilities, of course.

Season upon season passed by gradually as his boredom grew anew. History in the making could be a very dull way to pass the time. Eventually, tribes of these people that were red from their days in the sun and the clay of the land beneath, captured his attentions. There were many different factions of them across the terrain and each one was different from the next. Their tribes each developed their own language patterns, clothing styles, and customs. One tribe in particular, who called themselves the Nimíipuu, later known as the Nez Perce people, made him pause.

Specifically, a youthful maiden who had a kind manner and a healing touch. Individuals from all over would come to her with aches and illnesses of all kinds. She had studied the plants and found those that could ease burns, wounds, a woman’s monthly pains, all sorts of sicknesses. The people and animals of the land seemed naturally drawn to her warm spirit. He watched as her youth faded and she matured into a beautiful woman. She would lay and watch the sky for hours. He imagined that she could see him, gazing longingly at her as she smiled upwards and this was a soothing balm on his unending seclusion. Oh how he wished he has a physical form, one she could see and feel and heal, but alas he was only corporeal when the gods decreed.

Once the maiden fully matured, the village elder (her grandfather), chose a warrior to be her mate. Begrudgingly, she accepted this, as she had no say in the matter. Late at night, when she was alone with her medicines and the vast stars above, she would speak of how unhappy she was with her situation. This mate forbade her from searching the woods for her medicinal supplies. He laid his hands on her cruelly when he became angry with her. He lusted after other maidens that were much too young for her and didn’t even try to keep it from her. The sentinel watched her suffer, with no way of wiping away her tears or communicating to her that she was a precious gem that that imbecile was a fool the neglect. The night she lay injured and wishing she could end her life, he knew he had played the watchman for too long.

Leaving the heavens, his spirit form moved along the dream lands and made his way to the palace of the gods. It was an extravagant, gilded place, far hidden from the eyes of mankind. Seeking out the goddess of love, he found her in her marble throne room. She reclined on a silk chaise, blissful as her servants massaged scented oils into her skin and hand fed her ambrosia. Immediately, she sensed his presence. He was ancient, masculine, and roiling with fury. With a whisk of her hand, she grounded him in a form that wasn’t fully there, but could at least be seen.

“Good day, Guardian of the Skies and all of that below. How may I assist you? It isn’t like you to leave your post. Ever.” She said, pointedly. Kneeling before her radiant form, the Guardian avoided her lustful gaze. He did not wish to join her countless list of lovers, where every male and female alike was simply a conquest.

“Goddess of Love, deity of Beauty, a favor I beseech you for. I have not once in my existence asked for anything from any of the gods, but I can no longer be silent.” He pleaded in polite reverence.

“Arise, Guardian. He who is even older in embodiment than I. What is it you would ask of me? Shall I assume that since it is I you have sought out, that this pertains to matters of the heart?” She motioned for her men to cease their ministrations and await her next command. The one closest to her, a barely full-grown male, rubbed his head on her leg like a kitten seeking affection. She absent mindedly caressed his golden curls. Scowling at that behavior, the spirit cleared his throat.

“There is a mortal woman in danger. She is being mistreated by her mate and wishes to end her life. She is a great healer and crucial to her people’s future. He is an abuser, an adulterer, a fiend. I would beg of you to give me a mortal form. To ease her suffering and show her that she is a worthy woman that any other man would cherish like the rarest of treasures. That her selfless nature has not been in vain and she is needed in this world. I would die for this woman, if it was possible to do so.” He stayed close to the floor, his words edged in desperation and adoration for this mortal female.

She sat up while listening to him, bright eyes gleaming with a mix of unknown emotions and just a hint of mischievousness. Cocking her head, she tapped her cheek with a well manicured finger, as if deeply pondering his request. She enjoyed the drawing out of silence, antagonizing him, whilst amusing herself. Finally, she pushed herself up and stood. Before he even had the chance to blink, she was standing directly in front of him. Hands came up on each side of his would be face and her bow shaped lips pressed near to his.

His spirit filled with a white hot, molten feeling, as her power pouring into him from her. Minutes later, she let go and he feel to his knees, gasping. It took him a moment to realize that he was struggling for breath. That his knees ached where they had hit the marble floor. During that ‘kiss’, she had made him flesh and blood. He looked down at his new hands in shock. Ten fingers on two strong looking hands, tawny skin similar in tone to that of the woman he coveted. The goddess made a full length mirror appear and gestured for him to take a look. He had well muscled arms that flexed when they moved. Broad shoulders, corded neck, the build of a hunter. The black hairs on his chest, arms, and legs were sparse, but a thick trail of it went from his pectorals to lower, disappearing beneath a pair of leather leggings. Matching moccasins covered his feet.

He turned around in awe of this miraculous feat, stopping finally to look himself in the eyes for the first time in his existence. A slightly pointed jaw, dimpled chin, straight nose, firm lips that still tingled slightly from the taste of the goddess’ impressive power, stared back at him. Dark brows over storm gray eyes, fringed with even darker lashes and full of ancient knowledge. He raised a hand to run through his straight black, long hair and smiled as his heart leapt in exhilaration.

“Thank you, dearest Goddess. You will not regret this boon!” He turned towards the door he had come in through, wondering how to return to the mortal realm from the gods’ mountain.

“I did not do this as an act of kindness, Guardian.” She stopped him, returned to her seat. “I require something in return.”

“Anything, my lady. Just name your price and it is done.” He said.

“My price is this abuser, this charlatan hero, trussed up like a prized hog. I am the goddess Aphrodite, Inanna, Venus, Ixcuina. I am a protector of women and will not let this injustice stand. Capture him with this unbreakable rope and call for me so I can see justice served. For this price, I shall allow you this form for three full cycles of the moon.” She declared, a servant approaching the guardian with said rope and a leather pouch to carry it in. He took the pouch and slung it over his shoulder, waiting to be released by the goddess.

“I shall do my best, Goddess.” He replied.

“You do that, Guardian. I shall place you near where you wish to go. Do not disappoint me.” As he nodded, his form faded from her hall and appeared within the mortal realm.