Babeester Gor - The Avenger

 This is a myth of becoming not obedience.

When the Earth Mother was killed

The world broke. Her lovers failed,

Her children scattered.

No hand rose to stop it,

No voice spoke for her

So she gave birth to something that could.

She came from the wound,

From blood and stillness.

Rose from the pit, not weeping, not calling.

Only listening

To the cries beneath the soil.

The betrayed, the murdered, the forgotten.

And she stood.

The land was split, silent.

The sky sealed in stone.

Ernalda's body lay behind her, vast and cold and still.

Ahead, waiting -

A figure.

Burning, iron-boned, haloed in fire

He held a double-headed axe,

And the heat of him blistered stone.

He did not speak.

Some say it was Zorak Zoran

Come to desecrate the corpse, or finish what Chaos began.

Some say he had already done it,

Some say he came to mock the Earth with her own death.

She did not ask.

She looked at him, and he saw her,

Saw what had risen from the wound.

Not a child, not a priestess, not a ghost,

But something he could not unmake,

And his fire faltered.

She took the axe from his hands

Because it was always hers.

And he ran,

Leaving silence behind him.

She walked the blood trail

Through the broken land, through the cries.

She found them,

The oathbreakers, the defilers, the cowards and the kin-slayers.

Some she killed, some she judged,

Some she did not yet understand.

But she remembered every face.

At the edge of the world, she found the Gate of Bone,

The way to the Underworld, sealed in chains.

Ovodaka stood before it,

Silent, vast, final.

He would not let her pass,

And she could not pass living,

So she stepped forward

And let him kill her.

There was no light, no sky,

No name in the deep,

Only her own blood, still warm, still hers.

She drank it and stood and returned.

She broke Ovodaka, and the gate.

The goddesses stirred and

The world began to rise.

But she did not go to the feast,

She turned aside

To the mirror of wounds. 

She looked into it, and saw what she had done.

Those she had slain,

Those she had spared,

Those she had not understood,

She did not look away.

When Ernalda rose,

She found her daughter waiting.

She did not offer peace,

She did not ask her to stop,

She said only:

You did what I could not,

You are what I needed.

And Babeester Gor walked into the world again.

Axe in hand, she is still walking.


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