Long ago, long before the rise of empires of stone, long before man put his hands on the reigns of magic, Tumin watched over the people of the valley.
She was a mother, a beacon of light and purity. She inspired honesty in men and steadfastness in women. She held the hands of maidens as they joined in nature’s great cycle of creation. She was always there, watching and loving, and the people worshiped her.
One day a girl wandered into the sacred groves. Her hair was knotted with dirt and sweat, her hands covered with blood. The girl collapsed against the roots of one of the ancient trees, weeping. The sound filled the air and the animals grew respectfully silent.
“I have lost it!” she wailed. “I have lost my child. Woe onto me for I have failed my family and my village! How can I return to my husband? I will lie here with my tears until I die!”
Tumin watched the girl. She heard the girl’s cries and tasted her tears. She felt the girl’s inner most pains. Benevolence requires sympathy, and sympathy is painful. Tumin felt everything. She filled herself with the child’s torment.
“My child…” the girl wept. “How could you take my child?”
“We did not take your child, young one,” Tumin spoke softly. “He came to us of his own accord.”
“He…?” the girl said, turning to gaze in awe at the goddess before her. She fell to her knees, refusing to look up at the glowing image of divinity.
“Look at me child, for I am here for you.”
The girl slowly raised her head and her body was filled with light. She was warmed by feelings of peace and love. Her tears ceased to fall.
“Your son saw the state of your life. He saw your great happiness beside your husband, despite the struggle for your livelihood. He did not want to cause you further burdens. He saw your world and decided now was not the time to come to you.”
“Not the time?” the girl said, confused.
“Your son is waiting. He will come back to you when the time is right. Do not despair.”
The girl knew the words of the goddess to be true. She felt the force of life in her bones. Tumin’s radiant white robes rippled in the wind, her long golden hair hanging like vines. She placed a soft hand on the girl’s cheek, smiling down upon her.
“Never forget that you are my child and I am always watching. Do not fill your heart with sorrow. All is as it should be.”
Tumin watched as the girl fell to sleep, exhausted by the physical and mental trauma. As the girl dreamed, the goddess washed the blood from her body and the sadness from her soul. She filled the girl’s heart with hope and courage. This girl would be a leader for her people.
When the girl woke, the goddess was gone. But the residue of divinity remained, deep in the girl’s spirit.
With devotion and resolve in her heart, the girl returned to her village.
A response to the Daily Prompt: Mythical