Simisola was known for her kindness and her healing, but most people thought this kindness was always nice. Kind is not always nice. Sometimes being kind requires being harsh.
– – –
Simisola stood on the stairs leading up to the monastery. She had only visited there once before when a monk needed her healing in order to go on and do great things. Today one young monk needed kindness to go on to do great things. She walked up to the gates and stared at the guards, waiting for them to talk to her.
The two monks looked at each other in silence then back at Simisola. They made no noise, only gestures with their hands. The sign was well known and meant go away.
“You are allowed to talk to goddesses even in an oath of silence. I’m Simisola. Today I come as The Kindness.” She pulled her symbol out of thin air. A polished stone of hematite sat in her palm now.
The two monks looked at each other again, trying to remember if talking to outsiders that were goddesses was a clause in their oath of silence.
“If you still won’t talk you can at least let me in.”
Their bald heads nodding the monks pulled the doors open to let her pass. An elderly monk was waiting for her. “She’s right, you know. Your vows do allow you to speak with the gods.”
The monks bowed and closed the doors behind Simisola.
“Perhaps they fear to slip up entirely and respond to someone who isn’t a god.” Simisola made the hematite disappear. In a ritualistic tone she said, “if the silent watch the gate only those who know what to say may gain entrance.”
“And that is the way to enlightenment.” The elderly monk responded. “It’s good to see you here. I have been healthy since you cured my ails and I have worked hard to make this monastery great. I even invented a new chain weapon for self-defense…though like all such weapons they may be used to attack.” He walked her towards the dining hall. “Do you wish to have a meal before you do your work here? I take it you are showing kindness since we have no sick brothers.”
“Yes, I believe you have a lazy monk. One who up until now had been a great student?”
“Ah, Gerii. Yes, she’s gone from overachiever to sloth seemingly overnight. I fear she has lost focus.” The elderly monk held the door to the dining hall open for Simisola. “How will you help her?”
Simisola smiled as she entered. “Send her on a quest. She’ll hate it at first, but thank me for my kindness later.”
The old monk bowed to her. “I am always in awe of your great wisdom, my goddess.”
– – –
“I am Simisola. Do you know of me?” Simisola stood over the bed of a monk who was healthy, but unwilling to leave the bed.
Slowly sitting up the monk looked at her. “The Healer? I have no ails you can cure.”
Simisola sighed. “No, my girl, you don’t. I, however, have something for you.”
“What could that be,” sarcasm was thickly coating her words, “the Fount of the Gods?”
“A quest that only you will be tasked with. Find The Fist of The Ancients and bring it back here by the end of three years. I believe your library has information on The Fist.” Simisola turned to leave, not waiting for a response.
Gerii jumped out of her bed and tried to stop the goddess. “The Fist of The Ancients was lost centuries ago. You show me no kindness in giving me this quest.”
“On the contrary. You will thank me for this kindness later. No matter how much you doubt it now.” The Kindness teleported away, leaving Gerii alone in her quarters.