my boots. I struggle to keep my balance along the shoreline, and once glance back up the cliff face confirms what I already know: it’s going to be a long way back for poor John. If I’m lucky - and he’s not too pissed off at me as it is - maybe I can get Peyton to magick us back to the road. The thought of hiking when I’m wearing leather and dripping wet isn’t something I relish, and given what a botched job I’ve done here, it might be best if I go lay low at home for a while before continuing about my duties.
First things first, though, I’ll need to catch up with my brother. We’re far away from the main highway out here, and the sounds of the wilderness around us are the only thing I can pick up. Contrary to what you might believe, gods aren’t physically much more powerful than humans; we get injured almost just as easily, our bodies age, and we get sick the same way humans do. The only difference is that we have access to magic, which makes our jobs easier. But make no mistake: if Peyton hadn’t been there to help me just now, I might very well have died - or at the very least, broken a few bones. Granted, there are exceptions - gods of physical strength and virility tend to be more durable than the average human, and others (like luck gods, for example) never seem to have accidents, no matter what they do. But I’m neither of those things, and at the end of the day, I’m more or less just a squishy flesh sack like everyone else in the mortal world.
That might explain why I’ve always been told that I have shit hearing for someone my age. Come to think of it, maybe that’s why Mum yelled at me so much when I was a kid (although to be honest, I think it’s less a matter of not hearing and more a matter of not listening). Either way, the sound of my brother going after John has been muffled by the forest, and I have no choice now but to head in the direction he went and hope I’ll stumble upon him eventually. I could easily see him leaving me by the pond to teach me some kind of lesson, but I’m damn well not going to let this turn into another cautionary tale if I can help it. I mean, come on - I’m just trying to do my job, here.
The day is bright and warm, and the sun feels nice on my damp skin as I make for the edge of the trees. There isn’t a cloud in the sky, and if I weren’t on duty today, I would think this the perfect time to wander the streets of town, or maybe even go into Dublin for the day. But karma never sleeps, apparently, and therefore, neither do I. I stifle a shiver as I enter the forest, the thick canopy blocking out the warmth of the sun and the world growing gloomy and shadowy as I go. There’s no path - just my luck - but I think I can hear the sound of footsteps in the distance, and so I continue in that direction. It’s always a bit entertaining to see a memory wiping happen - it’s never been something I’ve been very good at, although I’m going to have to learn how to do it sooner or later. Granted, I have a charm for it - it was one of the first ones my parents gave me - but it’s tricky to use, and I’m not the patient sort. Considering how often I manage to bungle my jobs, though, it would really come in handy.
It goes without saying that normal humans can’t ever be made aware of the existence of magical folk. It’s not just about gods, although we’re certainly a large part of it, since our actions affect the everyday human world a great deal; there are plenty of other magical beings whose existence is safeguarded from prying human eyes. Fairies, for instance, and leprechauns. I’ve also heard of dryads and sirens, although they’re more rare, and I’ve never met one personally. The difference is that they tend to keep to themselves, and work for themselves. Gods, however? We exist to serve the human world, as shitty as it can be, and that means hiding among them in plain