Reborn as a Basic Barista

Chapter 39: Side Chapter Three – The Trickster Goddess


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{11 years before chapter 1}

 

There is an Earth saying I heard once, it never rains, but it pours. Though there are several ways to interpret it, the way I found to be most common was that bad things never come in singular events. When bad luck strikes, more bad luck is sure to follow.

Some would say that as the goddess who presides over bad luck this phenomenon would bring me pleasure. Many unfortunates who’ve been trapped in cycles of misfortune have cursed my name. Believing that I have somehow sought to harm them in particular.

This could not be further from the truth. Bad luck is only funny in small doses, and it is never funny when it causes a life to reach its end. My role is to simply observe. Bad Luck and misery are part of reality, woven into the fabric of existence crafted before even I was born.

That isn’t to say I have never imparted small amounts of misfortune into the lives of those who seriously need such things. Sometimes it takes a broken nose to realize you should take more precautions against the unknown. The lucky are often careless after all.

Mostly however I simply watch the countless unfortunates struggle, cursing my name when bad luck strikes. Begging and pleading to me when they feel as if their lives have been ruined. The prayers of the devout always reach my ears, though rarely do I take any action at all.

They call me the trickster after all. I’m not a god known for their compassion.

So it was mild curiosity, not compassion that led me to step through the veil between my world and another. A prayer had been made in my name. A prayer to shield a child from misfortune. A powerful prayer made with the dying breath of a mother who loved her child more than anything else in the world.

How had she known of me? Why had she called out to me instead of her own gods? I had to know, and so I slipped through the veil, manifesting my avatar in a strange land.

I found the woman who’d prayed to me laying in a narrow passage with a smooth stone floor. Towering buildings on either side casting her in deep shadows that nearly obscured her from sight. It took me only seconds to recognize her. This was not a woman of this world, but rather one who’d escaped from my own.

“Ellione… Princess of Ciriczar.” I whispered her name and title as I crouched down next to her. Gazing at the child clutched tightly in her arms.

The little girl had inherited the princess’s red hair, and the amethyst eyes common to those in the royal bloodline. Yet being so close to her mother as her mother’s soul unraveled had damaged her spirit. The little girl was going to die, and there was no magic strong enough to prevent it.

“This is the will of the world,” I sighed. “Only those within the river of souls may travel between worlds. You should’ve expected this to happen.”

It wasn’t as if the princess could hear me. She’d died moments before my arrival, I was simply chastising a dead woman. Her spirit decimated by the laws of reality, rejected by a world that was not her own.

“Still,” I carefully freed the child from Ellione’s arms and cradled her in my own. “I guess you are not to blame.”

The child’s body was little more than a lifeless doll, her soul already too fractured to properly maintain a connection with her physical form. If I was going to save her, I would have to do so now. She was out of time.

“Someday little one, I’m going to call you on this debt, understand? I’ll save you now but I’m going to work you hard when the time comes. There will be no compassion from me, got it?”

The child’s eyes blinked, and I decided to take that as an agreement. So with our contract forged, I began the process that would save her life, and change it forever.

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“You’re really into this pretending to be a mortal thing?” Rysa laughed gazing around at my newly acquired cafe. “You could just melt the mind of some rich mortal and spend your time tending the child in the height of luxury for this world.”

“Is that really a suggestion the goddess of law should be making?”

“I’m no goddess here. This world has its own gods, I’m just a powerful interloper, just like you.”

“And they call me the trickster. You’ve hardly been in this world for an hour and already your whole motif has changed. From worrying about the preservation of law and order to saying ‘fuck it, kill the rich’.”

Rysa’s cheeks turned a bright shade of pink as she looked around my cafe. “Nevermind that, where is the child you adopted? I wish to see our pantheon’s first daughter with my own eyes.”

“Smooth attempt to divert my attention, dear Rysa. You’re so adorable right now I could just pinch your cheeks.”

“You know that I’m older than you right?”

I shrugged. “We were both born from Reality’s ichor before time had meaning. Who could really say which of us is truly older?”

“I can remember a time before your existence.”

“How could you know your ability to perceive my existence was not a great illusion. Thanks to the dominion of trickery I could’ve been standing right beside you. And you’d have never known it.”

“Seriously Laura… Stop trying to justify treating me like a child and show me the actual child you adopted.”

“I’m just saying you could alter your avatar to any appearance you desire. It is only by choice that you appear so youthful to the eyes of onlookers.”

“I simply enjoy consistency, unlike a certain goddess who cannot even keep her sex accurate.”

“Had I known your preference for the female form I’d have discarded my male avatar before I ever created it. Though do be cautious, it appears as if civilization in this world has some longstanding negative beliefs about same-sex couples. I have to guess it is because of their lack of magic. They cannot simply impregnate themselves with a spell. Nor can their male sexed couples simply craft a child-bearing egg with alchemy.”

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“It’s not as if all the mortals in our world can perform such feats either. I doubt lacking such magic is the cause of their disdain.”

“You’re probably right,” I nodded before opening a door in the corner of the cafe. “It’s not really our problem anyway. Would you like to come upstairs to meet Bernice? The chairs in my home are a little more comfortable than the ones you’ll find here.”

“I’ve asked twice already, of course, I want to meet her. For a moment I thought you intended to prevent me from meeting her entirely.”

“I’d never do such a thing, though you are the cutest when you’re upset.” I laughed as we climbed the stairs. “Just remember not to mention anything about our world or the fact that we’re gods to her, understand?”

“It will not be long before she’s going to be forcibly relocated to our world. Would it not increase her chances of survival to know what to expect now? So she can be ready?”

“I’ll be watching over her. Plus I intend to drop her as close to Otrea Ladnier as possible.”

“Why the witch?!” Rysa grabbed my hand and pulled me to a halt just before the landing at the top of the stairs. “Otrea Ladnier is a threat to reality itself. You should be assisting me in containing her, not entrusting your daughter to her care.”

“Bernice is Princess Ellione’s daughter. There is no more apt protector than Otrea Ladnier.”

“Given the dilation of time between our worlds. It’ll have been two centuries if not more between when Otrea sent Ellione to this world, and Bernice’s arrival. There is no way she’ll guess their relation to one another.”

“Even better,” I chuckled. “I can’t wait to see the look on her face when a god appears before her. All to tell her that the woman before her is her ex’s daughter. It’ll be a wondrous moment, I’m certain I’ll never forget it.”

“Zaserdizar will ensure you forget eventually. Even we cannot escape his dominion of forgetfulness.”

“Yet there are some things we never forget. You’ve already made it clear you can remember a time before me. Perhaps memories we deem important are spared. I just have to hold tight to my memory of Otrea’s shocked expression and it’ll be mine forever.”

Rysa sighed. “I can’t believe you’re going to use your daughter as a pawn just to prank a witch.”

“Bernice is going to have a very long life. A little adversity won’t hurt her.”

“Just so you know, I’ll be watching over her too.” Rysa noted pushing past me and opening the door to my apartment. “If I ever catch her in extreme distress I will come to her aid. And then I’ll avoid you for a few millennia as punishment for not protecting her properly.”

“You’re going to end up coddling her worse than me,” I mumbled following Rysa into my apartment.

The apartment above the cafe wasn’t incredibly large. Two bedrooms, a kitchen, bathroom, and a living room were all it held. Compared to the near infinity of the heavens it was like being crammed into the tiniest box imaginable. Still, it was all I needed to care for Bernice.

The little ginger-haired girl was sitting on our living room couch, staring absentmindedly at a picture book. Her soul was still in such a state that she had shown little personality so far. But her affection for reading and books was already being well telegraphed. Even though she hardly spoke a word during the day, at night she’d beg for a story until her voice became hoarse.

Not that I ever let it go that far. Even if I’m not known for my compassion, I at least never want to see someone harm themselves for no good reason. Especially not Bernice, she’s already too frail for such things.

“My goodness, you are so adorable!” Rysa squealed, lifting Bernice into her arms. I almost smiled when I saw the picture book hit the floor. For a moment Bernice gazed at Rysa as if she was some aberrant monster, then she gazed at the floor trying to locate her lost treasure. Once she failed to find it, she began to sob.

“Laura! What? Why won’t she stop crying?!” Rysa carefully bounced Bernice in her arms doing everything she could imagine to calm the young girl. All of her attempts ending in horrible failure.

“She just prefers me it seems,” I grinned, swiping the picture book off the floor before taking Bernice into my arms. Slipping the book into her grasp.

Rysa gazed at the now calmed Bernice, crestfallen. “She… hates me.”

“Come now Rysa, you’re an adult, don’t cry over a child’s rejection.”

“Fine,” Rysa stepped forward and planted a soft kiss atop Bernice’s head. Even though it was covered by the little girl’s hair, I could see the little heart-shaped birthmark left behind.

“Isn’t there some edict against making another god’s child your oracle Rysa?” I asked telepathically.

“Just a little insurance. To make sure you can’t hide her from me. I told you I was going to watch over her.”

“Do you want Auntie Rysa to read you a story Baby Bernie?” I asked winking at Rysa.

“Story?” Bernice’s eyes lit up as she turned to gaze at Rysa. No longer was the other woman the monster who’d taken her away from her book. Now she was a valuable storyteller, and Bernice wasn’t about to let her get away.

“You better do a good job Rysa. Bernice judges people’s worth by how good their stories are.”

“Eh?!”

 

 

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