Wish Upon a Goddess

The rocks carve tiny cuts into my hands, leaving traces of my blood on the surface as I pull myself up the mountainside. The light of the full moon illuminates the path before me, as if the Goddess herself chose to light my way. Below, I can still hear the sound of the celebrations as they dance in circles around the fire and take joy in the drink that had been provided. A part of me mourns what I’m missing, but the stronger, more stubborn, heartbroken side knows that I must continue. I can hear her whispering to me now, encouraging me on my journey and insisting that I just keep climbing.

“June!” A voice shouts, echoing off the tall mountain. “Stop- stop it right now!”

I ignore them, hooking my foot onto a tall ledge and swinging myself onto it.

“You’ll get yourself killed! The isn’t what the Goddess would want!” They shout again.

Ignore them, she whispers, this is what you’re meant to do. I’m with you.

Huffing, I grab another ledge and pull myself up, ignoring the shakiness of my arms. The path that once marked the way up the mountain is unrecognizable, years of disuse leading to an overgrowth of plants, along with the destruction of the path itself. I try to recall the legends I was told as a child, the stories of when people used to climb the mountain in search of riches or fame, a tradition which died out years before my time. They only say to get to the top by midnight, though they give no direction on how to do so, thus leaving me to carve my own way to the summit.

The journey is long and grueling, and I feel my thoughts drifting away from me as they so often have these past few months. I see his face in the back of my mind, the last smile he gave me before disappearing into the wood, never to return. I see the flowers I laid at his gravestone, only a symbol of his absence as no body was to be found. I see the Goddess’ being that came to me in a dream, urging me to not let go of my true love.

By the time I pull myself over the last ledge, I feel the strength of our bond burning like the fires of Midsummer through my veins.

A fog settled itself over the forest, blocking my view of any other life at the base of the mountain. The moon is close to the highest point in the sky, and I allow myself a moment to breathe before I reach out through the veil. Its been known for generations that on this night, the Eve of the longest day of the year, that the veil between our world and that of the Gods became thin- so thin, that some believed you could speak to the Gods themselves. Most wished for true love by slipping a flower under their pillow or burning a note with their desires written onto it, but I needed more. I needed to see them face to face, to properly beg for my soul back.

As the moon hits its peak, its bright light shining down on me and illuminating my skin, I feel a shiver run down my spine.

“Great Goddess, I have climbed the summit to speak with you on this holy night,” I say, closing my eyes and pressing my palms into the earth. I feel the wind pick up, its voice hissing through the trees below. “Allow me the honor to look upon your form, to speak with you face to face.”

I sit there for a few minutes, listening closely for any sign that I was no longer alone on the peak. When no sign came, I opened my eyes to the great emptiness before me. The fog had completely covered the mountain from anyone’s eyesight, and them from mine.

“I know you’re out there,” I shouted, standing and approaching the edge. “Show yourself, Goddess! Allow me my one wish, as you have promised those before me!”

The wind calms, and I inhale deeply, looking around for any change.

I am still alone on the peak, though the fog before me starts to ripple. I almost don’t believe my eyes, but I know that the Goddess would not play such a cruel trick on me. Before me, in all her glory, is a figure taller than any mountain, bigger than any living creature this world could hold. Her beauty is not of this land- she has no form that resembles our own, rather all I can make out is her large outline and glowing eyes as she peers down at me from the fog. I can still barely make out the moon over her shoulder.

I fall to my knees, pressing my forehead into the earth. “Goddess, you heard me plea! I thank you, I thank you deeply!”

I lift up my head and find that her eyes have shifted, as if she is scrutinizing me.

“You know why I am here, Great One. I seek to bring back the one I love most. Something happened on a hunting trip, and he never returned to me. Please, my Goddess, you must help me!” I plead, clasping my hands together and looking into her glowing eyes.

She does not move.

“Goddess?”

Nothing.

“Goddess?” I repeat, my voice coming out sharper than I intended. “I climbed the peak, you appeared before me! Aren’t I owed a wish of whatever I desire, as the legends say!”

Still, she only stares.

I feel my face growing hot as my heart begins to race.

“Bring him back! You have the power, I know you do! You healed Mr Boen, you saved the Ingle baby during the last bought of sickness, you saved my life when I was a child, so bring him back!” I stand, shaking my fist at her as the wind starts to pick up again. “Bring him back to me! You promised! You promised!”

I fall back to my knees, my entire body beginning to shake as the memories of our last moments together flood my mind. He kissed my hand, ran a hand over my hair, grabbed his bow and walked away, swearing to me that he would see me soon. Soon was over.

“Please,” I whisper, looking into her eyes once more. This time, I see a shift through the fog as her eyes squint shut. Her arm cuts through the air, her black finger resting only a foot from my face.

I stare between her face and the hand she has offered me, not sure of what to do. How would this bring my love back to me? How would this end the pain I have endured for months on end?

But what have I done all throughout my life if not trust in my Goddess? Who am I if I am not devout to her?

I swallow my fear, holding my hand out and pressing my palm against her own.

After two days, the town held a service for me. They put a headstone right next to my love’s, but none dared to risk the climb to retrieve where they thought my body was. In the coming years, they would question if my bones were still resting at the peak of the mountain, waiting for something that would never come. They wondered if I had fled into the woods after my failed attempt, searching for his remains to die by his side, or to start a new life away from everyone else. They wondered if he had done the same to escape me, to escape our way of life.

We would laugh at them, our arms forever linked as we watched them tell stories of what could have possibly happened to the tragic young couple. My trust in the Goddess did not lead me to where I expected, but it brought me the happiest ending I could have ever asked for.