Tandem Story: The Twin Goddess (for adults)

The Anchorite wrote this story in answer to my request to write a story featuring two lesbian goddess, one good, one evil, who fought over the fate of mankind, but who had much more in common with each other than with any mortal. 
This is the second installment. So far, the Zobulian Tarnas has raped and murdered the goddess Tirala's daughter, and Tirala has punished Zobul with pestilence, drought, and all the usual. It's a pretty serious story. Until I come in at the end. It's not a pornographic story, but it has some serious adult themes, so don't read it to your kids before bed. Or do. I'm sure they hear worse at school.

The text in bold is me, the regular text is the Anchorite.

The Twin Goddess

Tirala strode through the once-fertile plains of Zobul with a single-minded purpose towards a nondescript farm a few leagues away from a small village. She found him standing in the middle of a barren field when she arrived. He stood erect with his hat held in his hands as a gentleman’s respectful gesture. Tirala’s senses enhanced beyond any mortal’s perceived his struggle to maintain his dignity and composure standing against her divine status and solemn mission. She was impressed by his demeanor as most who faced the goddess’s judgment met her with sobbing pleas as pathetic as they were ineffective before she killed them. Tirala removed the scale with one hand and pointed an accusatory finger with the other.

“Tarnas of Zobul, your judgment is at hand for the rape and murder of Korana, beloved daughter of Zobul’s harvest goddess. Your crime alone is enough to warrant the harshest judgment, but your actions also drove Beruda into such grief that she abandoned this land and has disappeared beyond the ken of all eyes mortal and divine. You have sentenced your homeland to a slow, painful wasting death. Have you anything to say in your defense, mortal?”

The weight of the goddess’s words were too much for him to bear as he finally bowed his head and covered his face in a hand through which tears streamed onto the parched soil. He took a slow, deep breath before he raised his head to meet the goddess’s eyes.

“I do not dispute these accusations, mighty goddess, and I hold myself accountable for my sins. All my life I have striven to never do any wrong to anyone, and I deeply regret that this one foolish act ended so tragically. You must, however, my lady believe me that I never wanted this. I had no idea that she was the sacred Berula’s own daughter and I would have never done what I did if it meant condemning my friends, neighbors, and countrymen like this. Surely you cannot believe that I wanted to doom my own homeland like this.”

Tirala paused to consider his words. As the goddess of judgment, she had a keen sense for determining the motives of any mortal. She could only pass judgment on those who acted with will and intent so that she could hold them accountable for their actions. She had no authority over the insane, the incapacitated, or those who acted through mere accident or misfortune. Tirala perceived intent as part of her judgment and she had the divine, moral obligation to hear any mortal out before she passed judgment. Most mortals wasted that opportunity on futile pleading, but this man was different. She sensed his deep sorrow, regret, and the overwhelming desire to undo these events and act differently. She also silently acknowledged that he had a point about the injustice in sentencing an entire people for one man’s actions. Tirala lifted her scale above her head and patiently waited as its two arms moved against each other. Her judgment would be complete once the scale settled into its final position.

“My review of the events shows me that Korana was not entirely innocent as she was a vain, spiteful woman who took pleasure in seducing mortals with her divine charms beyond anyone’s ability to resist. True to her nature as a loving, nurturing agricultural goddess her mother Beruda saw her only as a vivacious, lovely young woman taken from her far too soon. Even as a goddess, she was a mother predisposed to turn a blind eye to her daughter’s faults, for what mother does not practice such indulgence? 

“I see that Korana focused her charms on you after she became bored with your neighbor, but rather than take you to bed she decided on a whim that it would be more fun to deny you and laugh at your frustrations for her own amusement. She provoked your rage, true enough, but she was young and not fully apprised of the consequences of her actions as gods often do when dealing with mortals. I see a small measure of mitigation for her provocation, but that does not in any way excuse your actions. You committed a heinous crime, but I see deep within your soul that all you wanted was to make her suffer as you suffered and to lash out at her for ridiculing you as she did. In your addled state, you did not intend to kill her and indeed this was an unfortunate case of consequences beyond what you intended. Intentionally or not, however, you took a life and even if it was an accident you did it in the course of committing a heinous crime. I have weighed the circumstances and despite some mitigating factors, I judge you guilty and will take your life as you took that of the young goddess Korana.

Tarnas sighed and bowed his head. He knew that he was condemned as soon as the goddess confronted him so he was not surprised by her judgment, but Tirala sensed his desire to face his judgment with a modicum of dignity.

“For what it’s worth, Tarnas, I note your bravery in accepting responsibility for your actions that I rarely see among those I judge and I do regret that you must face such a strict sentence for provocations by a foolish, fickle young goddess that got you in over your head. Yet the divine law is a universal truth and authority beyond even mine. I am but its conduit to the world both mortal and divine, and once pronounced my judgment is final.”

Tarnas nodded in the resignation of acceptance that he was at his final moment.

“Very well, mighty goddess, I accept your sentence so do with me what you will. As the witness to my final words, I just want it to be known that I do not want to see all of Zobul die because of me. You may execute me for justice, but where’s the justice in condemning an entire nation? It’s not right that an entire country of parents, children … people perish because of the one atrocity I committed in my humble existence. I may not deserve better, but they do. They all do.” A strange pale glow seemed to suffuse the lowly criminal.

Tirala’s eyes momentarily widened as the truth of this mortal’s words resonated in her. Then her eyes widened further as Blondhilda sprang out of nowhere and sliced the mortal from stem to stern. As he fell in two ghastly pieces, Blondhilda sheathed her sword and turned to Tirala.

"Enough. If one would kill a mortal, then one dost kill him outright. One does not talk him to death."

A sneer curled Tirala's lip. "Excuse me, Blondhilda, if my method of delivering justice does not meet your approval. My aim was to both serve justice and educate the people you see around us, so that they may learn from Zobul's mistake. And, in doing so, I have learned something myself. It was wrong for me to punish a whole people for the mistake of one."

"Mistake, my a---" Sweeping her Sword in a flashing arc, Blondhilda decapitated the local magistrate. "You erred thrice, Tirala. Rape and murder are not a 'mistake'. There exists nothing that mitigates the crime of rape." Blondhilda paused to spew a bolt of lighting from her pink lacquered fingertips, incinerating the village district attorney.

Tirala tsked as the prosecutor’s ashes blew away on a gentle gust of wind. "I see you take more kindly to murder," she said.

"Verily," Blondhilda intoned, in a voice a teenager might use to say whatever. "Your second error is in finding these people"--she swept her sword to indicate the surrounding peasants and they backed away--"innocent. A righteous people would have held the criminal in durance vile. Yet he roamed the streets, free under the sunshine, while your kin lay under ground, never to rise again."

Tirala's eyes widened again as she realized the truth of Blondhilda's words.

"Your third error," Blondhilda continued, "was your bloodless reaction to an attack on a fellow god—your family. He raped and murdered Korana. This was no time for ivory tower calculations of moral nuances. Such a craven heartless intellectual cannot lead. Look at these people--do they respect you?"

Tirala looked about at the gathered people and saw sneers below lowered eyes. She felt her power diminish, for her power lay in the belief and worship of her people. One man coughed and mumbled "Dukakis."

Suddenly, a flaming red chariot pulled by dragons dropped out of the sky, directly on Tirala's head. Santa the Barbarian stepped out, then helped Ishtar alight. Her velvet slipper, midnight blue and strewn with diamonds like stars, smushed Tirala’s nose and Tirala muttered in annoyance. Ishtar's skin glowed like the silken moon, an aftereffect of having passed through the LOLshark's digestive canal during a previous adventure.

"It is often women more than men who focus on the victim’s behavior," Ishtar said sadly, "and it confuses me. Perhaps they blame the victim because in doing so, they can cherish the hope that if they make their behavior conventional enough, if they constrain themselves enough, if they constrict their lives in fear enough, they can guarantee their safety. The old arguments of 'she asked for it' never grow old. I am immortal, and I fear I will never see those arguments die."

Looking up from under the chariot, Tirala recognized the truth of those words, and her eyes widened yet again, so wide this time that they bugged out of her head and rolled across the parched, blackened earth.

Santa stood behind Ishtar and put his hands on her shoulders. "Provocation is a myth,” he said. “A true man, a man worthy of being called a man, would not commit rape under any circumstances." Then his huge hands slipped down Ishtar's shapely arms and he pinned her wrists together. His gigantic muscles bulged as he pulled her to him. "Unless it's just a bit of play with a willing partner," he said, brushing his lips against her neck. She sighed against him and pushed her exquisitely generous derriere against his---

"Oh, for Odin's sake," Blondhilda said, resting her forehead against her palm. Then the ground rippled and a massive gray fin broke the earth. With a splash, the LOLshark erupted from the ground and landed between Ishtar and Santa, separating them and interrupting the gag-inspiring exhibition.

"Ohai, Blondhilda," he said, shyly. Blondhilda took a note from the shark’s slavering jaws and patted him on the nose as she slowly read it.

"I see that I have erred as well," she finally said to Tirala. "When I first came here, I began by criticizing you for talking too much and not getting to the matter at hand. Now I see that committed the same wrong."

Tirala had by this time crawled out from under Santa's flaming war-sled and had restored her eyes to their customary places. She smirked at Blondhilda while the others, gods and peasants alike, stared in apprehension. "And what is the 'matter at hand'?" Tirala started to ask, snarkily, but Blondhilda cut her off. As Tirala's head thudded to the ground, the crowd erupted in applause.

And yea, verily, a cry did rise from them, a cry heard throughout the realm.

"Twin Goddesses! Twin Goddesses! Enough of Tirala! Twin Goddesses"

And Blondhilda, Ishtar and Santa, and even the LOLshark saw that it was good, and they left.

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