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179: Goodbye Gaia

  He felt her before he saw her. The air, which had been brittle and cold became warm and supple, gentle waves lapping at his face.

  “Mimi, it’s OK,” Ever said reassuringly. “She’s a friend.” G had come out from behind the maple tree and was slowly shuffling towards him. He grinned and waved at the primordial goddess of the earth in her elderly, human form.

  Mimi didn’t relent. ^There’s something about her that I don’t like.^ This came out as three barks, followed by a growl as deep as she could muster.

  The closer she got to Ever, the faster she walked. She raised her left arm; the wind that had been playfully caressing Ever stilled momentarily before it sucked away from him, towards G. What sounded like spontaneous, rapturous applause surrounded Ever as thousands, if not tens of thousands of fall leaves were being drawn in towards the diminutive, old woman. In less than half a minute, they enveloped G in a long, narrow vortex that stretched up high into the air.

  There was a click of the fingers that somehow echoed in the expansive park, sending the leaf vortex exploding outwards. Gaia in her true form emerged, hand still in the air. Her long, verdant hair floated down, trailing her like a bridal train as she walked towards Ever.

  “Mimi, look,” Ever said. “It’s Gaia. She won’t hurt us.”

  “It’s alright,” Gaia said, tone gentle, voice lithe. She crouched gracefully, gazing at the dog, irises the color of a dappled, forest floor. “How about a friend to play with?”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  With another click of her fingers, a dog appeared… or what looked like a dog, constructed from fall leaves. Slightly bigger than Mimi, it stuck out its tongue: a long, thin, red maple leaf while the rest of its body were fifty shades of brown.

  Ever had never seen Mimi go from being defensive to joyful so quickly. The two dogs - one flora, one fauna - ran off to play with one another.

  “Let’s sit,” Gaia said. She indicated a bench that she’d created, also from fall leaves. Ever sat cautiously, only relaxing when he realized it was actually quite solid and comfortable. She angled her bare knees towards him, resting her hands in her lap. “I’m leaving.”

  Ever’s eyebrows climbed. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m not leaving leaving, the Earth’s still going to be around.” She smiled impishly. “It’s just that it’s nearing the end of the season and… I’ve sown my seeds.” She said the last four words with a sigh.

  “I see.” Ever looked at his hands. “Will I see you again?”

  “Do you want to see me again?” She asked, biting her lip playfully.

  “It was nice having you around,” Ever said, “but if your time is up, then I guess you have to go.”

  For the briefest moment, something flitted across her face. It was so quick, Ever thought he might have just imagined it.

  “I do have to go,” Gaia said. She stood up and looked into the distance where the dogs were playing. Mother nature incarnate skipped ahead a few steps, then turned back to look over her shoulder. “Don’t miss me too much, OK?”

  In the blink of an eye, fall leaves collapsed into a pile where she stood. The chill, biting wind sunk its teeth in deep, scattering them until there was no trace someone, neither mortal nor goddess, had ever stood there.

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