Adventuring with the Goddess - Part One

This story takes place in a fantasy world. There are no elves or hobbits. There are only humans and monsters (and they are new to this world).
Brief History: This world was similar to medieval Europe or feudal Japan. Local kings/warlords protected the area within two day's walk and built castle/keeps. Many diverse gods were worshipped. Gods derive their power from the faith of their followers. The more followers they have, and the more fervent their belief, the more powerful the god becomes. The Pantheon of Gods in this world believed, mostly, in peaceful co-existence. Most people worshipped many gods, specifying a certain one at any given time as per their need. Because the gods could make their wishes known (not-so-subtle omens and portents, as well as semi-direct communication with their priests), there were no religious wars. War gods existed but they usually had a fallback specialty for peace. This prevailed until the rise of the "Son" god. The Son god preached that he was the only true god, and laid down rigid rules for his worshipers to follow. The other gods shunned and ignored him, and continued their individual pursuits. The followers of the Son god grew in numbers and power, toppling the human kings and setting up theocracies that demanded a "state" religion of the Son god. The other gods hesitated, puzzled by his ambition. The Blacksmith god, seeing the Son god's worshippers creating large numbers of weapons without so much of a prayer to him, approached the Son god. The Son god struck him down and killed him. The death of a god is a powerful thing. The other gods immediately awoke from their trivial pursuits and formed a council. The council was led by the powerful war gods, and a war was declared on the Son god. The battle covered the heavens and the earth, ravaging the land, loosing monsters never before seen, and decimating the population. The Son god lies defeated, dormant, but not dead. The will of his remaining worshippers holds him to life. The other gods were not so lucky. All of the powerful gods and goddesses were destroyed. Only a handful of minor deities remain. One of them is the main character of this story. She is the fertility goddess Danae.
The Priestess:
Brigid was a farmer's wife when the war began. Her husband was called by his god to fight, and he took up arms against the Son gods followers and never returned. When her husband met his fate alongside his god, the crops died and rotted in the fields. Soon afterward Brigid's son was born stillborn. Distraught, she took the lifeless body to a circle of stones she knew that midwives sometimes used to aid in difficult deliveries. She placed the body on the small altar, knelt down and prayed for his life. She pleaded with any god that would listen, promising anything. In the hours that passed the pleads gave way to anger and demands, to shouts of rage. She pummeled her hands into the small stone altar until they were bruised and bloody. Finally, in anguish and exhaustion, she fell asleep next to the altar. Brigid dreamed. She found herself in a small garden. On a small stone bench in the center of the garden sat a small woman. She was very pretty with long red hair. She appeared to be in her early 20's but also had an ageless quality to her. She had ample breasts and hips, a small waist, and thin legs. Upon seeing Brigid the woman rose and opened her arms to her. Confused, Brigid confronted her "Who are you? Why am I here?"
The woman replied "I am Danae... and you are within my circle. I have brought you here to talk to you."
Frantically, Brigid looked around. "Where is my son?" she demanded.
Danae's eyes filled with sadness and pointed to a small stone cairn near the edge of the garden. "I have brought his remains here to me... I shall watch over them for you."
Brigid ran to the cairn, dropped to her knees and started to cry... "Why?" she pleaded.
"Why what?" asked Danae.
"Why won't you return my son to me?" Brigid looked up, anger in her eyes.
"Because I can not. The spark of life has fled, it can not be reunited with the body." Danae replied sadly
"What about the Son god... could he do it?"
"He can not. You may ask him, but he does not usually answer his followers."
"Can't you take my life in exchange for his?"
"I can not do that either. I can only help to create life. I can not create it on my own, and I can not return it when it has fled."
"Then why have you brought me here. My life is over. My family is dead, my farm is dead, and I too will be dead when winter comes and I have no food."
"I have brought you here because this world is dying. The life of the world is seeping out, and everything it sustains is in danger of dying as well. The fight with the Son god has damaged and tainted this world, the battle brought alien things to this world that continue to run rampant. More importantly, humans have lost faith in the gods. We help give life to the world, without us it will become sterile and lifeless. Without hope there is no life."
Brigid looked on uncomprending. "What can I do? I am only one woman. I can not fight monsters from the abyss. I can not heal the land. I can't even save my own son."
"You can become my vessel. You can allow my power to work through you. You can spread the word that at least one goddess still cares about the people of the world."
"Why are you still here? Why didn't you die with the other gods? Did you hide in fear in your little garden?"
"I did not hide. My followers were midwives. They were skilled in medical matters, and I guided them to the front lines to help with the wounded. They were strong and brave women, who stayed to the last. I stood by their side, offering my healing, my wisdom, and my strength. I held the last one, too injured from a demon created wound to live, and cried as she passed on... I can not take life. I can only make my enemies sleep or look the other way. The Son god knew this. I was deemed not worth killing. Perhaps kept around so he could have some sport with me after the battle."
"You have no followers?"
"None"
"What would happen if I took my son back to my house and burned it down around us?"
"You would pass on to the lands that humans go when they die. I would sit in my garden, slowly losing touch with the earth. When the stones of my circle have weathered, or if the last person who remembers what the symbols on them mean passes on, then I will fade from existence."
"You will die?" Brigid asked.
"No.. it will be as if I never was. Gods do not pass on... they cease to be."
"So you will stop me from killing myself, and make me your pawn."
"No, I can not force anyone to do anything... or not do anything. I do not have that power. At this point, this is all that I can do." Danae reached out and took Brigid's battered hands. The pain immediately fled. Brigid watched as the bruises faded and wounds closed. Within seconds her hands were completely healed. Brigid looked surprised at her hands.
"What about the ache in my heart... can you heal that?"
"I can not. That will never fully heal. However, time and good companions will ease it's pain."
"Hrrumph... I doubt that very much. Time is something that I'm sure I have very little of. And, as for companions there is no one left in this world that matters to me."
A slight smile crossed Danae's face and her eyes seem to see far away. "I can see one who could become a companion."
"I'll have no trickery from you." Brigid retorted. "My mind is made up. I will not be your pawn."
"I understand. Your personal pain is too great to see the pain of others. You need not worry about the body of your son. Children mean something very special to me. As long as my power remains I will stand guard over him. It seems fitting. I will send you back to your world now. Fare thee well Brigid."
Brigid awoke to find that the small stone altar had transformed into the small stone cairn that she had seen in her dream. She thought of her son's body inside and started to take apart the cairn. She stopped herself. "No one will ever visit your grave my son. If I bring you back with me, we will be together, but no one will look after you. I will hold Danae to her word. She will look after you or I will return from the other side to take vengeance on her." Carefully she replaced the stones and started back for her house.
The Bodyguard:
Brigid returned to her farmhouse to find something unexpected: a man lying 20 yards from her house. He was a tall man, wearing clothes that did not fit him properly. He had a dirty bandage wrapped around his left leg, and there was a sword strapped across his back. A bag apparently full of foodstuffs lied in a heap next to him. She bent down to examine his face. Dirty... but no one she recognized. She touched his cheek. He was hot to the touch, but alive. Looking closer she recognized the clothing he was wearing as belonging to her husband. She picked up the bag of foodstuffs recognizing many items from her pantry. She held the bag close to herself and kicked the man, "Thief" she yelled. The man did not respond.
Brigid stormed off to her house holding the bag. She slammed the door behind her and threw the bolt. She did a quick survey of the small farmhouse. Someone had obviously rummaged through the house. She went to the hearth. The loose stone that they hid their money behind was jutting out slightly. Swearing, she pulled the stone free. Behind it she saw the cache of coins they kept there. She pulled it free, noticing a gold ring fall to the floor. "That's odd... that wasn't there before". She counted the coins and found them all intact. She picked up the ring and inspected it. It was a unadorned man's ring, heavy with gold. She slid it on her finger, it was far too large for her. "And too large even for my husband's hands." She tried not to think about it, but the words came unbidden to her lips "but not too large for the man outside".
"He's a thief... he probably stole it" she muttered to herself, but she knew it didn't ring true. "Why didn't he take the money... It isn't much, but I won't need it any more."
She went to the door, unbolted it, and looked out. The man hadn't moved. She walked out to the man, stooped down and looked at his hands. They were large and heavily calloused. Frowning, she slipped the gold ring on his finger. The ring fit, if slightly loose. "Damn it... I can't have you dying on my doorstep... I have things to do and you are going to make me wait to do them. Damn you!!"
Brigid went to the barn and got the horse blanket. She laid it on the ground next to the man, and rolled him over on to it. He let out a slight groan when she moved his left leg. Straining, she dragged the blanket into the farmhouse, and levered the man up into her low bed. She pulled her husband's clothes back off of him, and inspected the bandage on his leg. It had started to ooze a white puss. It was obviously infected. She frowned and thought. She remembered that there was a moss that grew by the river that helped to draw infections out of wounds. She started off for the river and stopped herself "How do I know about mosses? When did I learn that?" She couldn't remember... but it didn't seem too important. She set a fire in the hearth and put water on to boil, then walked down to the river looking for the moss. She found a large patch as well as some roots that could be ground up and made into a healing tea. "Roots too... well... whatever... as long as it gets him on his way".
Brigid returned home, chopped and ground the roots, and poured the now boiling water on them, putting them aside to steep. She then retrieved her white cloth shirt, "I won't be needing this anymore", and tore it into fresh bandages. She placed the bandages in the remainder of the boiling water. After a few minutes she took them out and hung them over the hearth to dry. She then wrapped the old bandage. There was a vicious wound underneath. There were multiple punctures like a large bite, the teeth on either side more than a hand span across. The wounds were purple and oozing white goo. There was a sharp smell of rotten flesh.
Clenching her teeth, Bridget cleaned the wounds with the boiled water and the rag ends of what was once her shirt. She then placed the moss directly on the wound, and wrapped the leg with her makeshift bandages. She took the old bandage, and the rag used to clean the wound and tossed them into the fire.
She checked on the tea. It looked and smelled nasty. She brought the cup over to the man, tilted his head up and dribbled some the liquid. He coughed and sputtered. Over multiple attempts and nearly an hour, she managed to get most of the tea into him. Exhausted, Brigid grabbed her blanket and curled up in front of the fire.