33. Naera
Naera
The fire crackles low. It doesn’t warm me.
We made camp in a small clearing that feels too claustrophobic. Too tight. The trees press close on all sides, silent sentinels.
Selis hasn’t spoken to me since she sheathed her blade. She moves like she doesn't trust her hands, like they still itch for blood.
Now she stands at the edge of the firelight, arms crossed tight over her chest, shoulders drawn up like she’s holding herself back by sheer will. It’s so different from how she usually lounges about, comfortable even in the most uncomfortable situations.
Or so I thought.
Rialeth is on the other side. Still. Composed. But she eyes Selis distrustfully.
They’ve been talking. Not loudly, but enough. Enough that every word cuts.
“I’m not letting her walk back into that deathtrap,” Selis warns, low and dangerous.
“She wouldn’t have to if you hadn’t dragged her off like some savage—”
“She ran. She chose to run. I happened to be the one to find her.”
My hands tremble. I press them into my lap, clutching a frayed edge of my cloak. I feel like I might fly apart .
Their voices blur—oil on water, fire on bone.
I can’t hear them anymore. Not clearly.
Because all I can hear are the screams of the other girls…
The glowing ones.
They’ll die.
They’ll be offered up like fruit.
They’ll burn.
I see them in flashes—
Imara, who sings hymns louder than anyone, even when her voice cracks.
Callen, who always braids the others’ hair.
Yla, who steals flowers from the sacred gardens and hides them under her pillow.
Siven, who swears she saw Selene once in a dream and hasn’t spoken since.
Liri, barely six, who holds my hand like I’m a tether.
And Vess, the youngest, barely two, whose glow hasn’t even steadied yet.
Skin lit from within, eyes wide with belief or fear. I see them kneeling in white robes, necks bared, waiting for a goddess who never comes.
And I was one of them.
I am one of them.
If I go back, I can save them.
The thought lands like a stone dropped into a well, followed shortly by another: Are you really saving them… or simply buying them more time?
…
Is there a difference?
But Selis will never let me. She’ll fight to keep me here. To keep me safe… But what if safety isn’t the point anymore ?
I look up.
At Rialeth.
She’s seated now, legs folded beneath her, hands resting in her lap like she’s still in The Garden. She’s watching Selis, not me.
And I see her as she was—the first time I kissed someone and knew what it meant. The girl who whispered devotion like it was sin and scripture at once. The one who once told me I was selfish for wanting to live.
Maybe she was right.
I look at Selis.
At her posture—rigid, furious. Protective to the point of breaking. She hasn’t looked at me since I stepped between them.
And gods, I feel torn clean down the middle. Like silk stretched too far.
Rialeth holds the past. The shape of who I was.
Selis is my present. The breath I take now.
And I don’t know which part of me I’m supposed to follow.
But what was the point of all this—of Selene lighting the path, of me surviving , of finding Selis—if I’m only meant to go back now?
Why lead me into someone’s arms just to ask me to tear myself away?
What kind of goddess builds a future in me, only to demand I burn it down?
The questions spiral, too big for breath.
Then—
Selis’s voice slices through the dark like a blade finding the soft part between ribs.
“I’m not letting you lead her back to the altar,” she snarls. “Your lot had her thinking her death was holy. You made her believe she was only worth something if she bled for it. ”
The fire spits.
Rialeth stands slowly, like a priestess mounting a pulpit, all grace and fury.
“I never forced her,” she says. “She believed because she is holy. Because she carries light inside her—light you’re trying to snuff out with every bloodstained mile you drag her across.”
Selis laughs. Low. Dangerous. “Right. Because your way kept her so safe.”
“She’s sacred,” Rialeth says, and it’s almost a whisper. “And you’re tainting her. With death. With violence. With you. ”
I flinch.
“You don’t even hear yourself, do you?” Selis stalks forward.
Ria holds her ground, lifting her chin. “You want to protect her, but you don’t even believe in what she is.”
“I believe in her more than your entire rotting temple ever did.”
The fire snaps between them.
And so do I.
“Stop,” I say, too softly at first. Neither hears me. Neither sees me, even as I stand.
“I love her,” Ria says, voice sharp now, splintering. “And I see what you’re doing—pulling her further and further from the light, from the moonmother.”
“You think she needs your goddess to matter?” Selis spits back. “She is light. Even now. Especially now.”
“Stop! Please…”
They glare at each other, heat rolling off them like twin storms converging.
“You want her to die for you,” Selis spits. “You want her to lie down and call it faith. ”
“And you think she’s yours to keep,” Ria snaps, stepping forward. “You don’t understand her. You can’t. ”
Selis’s hand is already at her hip. Too close to her blade. Rialeth notices. Stands taller. Doesn’t back down.
Gods, Selis might actually kill her.
And I can’t stop them.
“ Stop!”
My head—
My head feels like it’s splitting open from the inside.
I drop to my knees.
It’s not graceful. There’s no dignity in it. Just the collapse of a body that suddenly doesn’t feel like mine.
The ground spins. My breath catches in my throat. Light—blinding, searing—floods my vision.
I can’t see. I can’t see.
Panic claws up my throat. Fear floods me—hot and choking.
My skin ignites, glowing too brightly, pulsing with something deep and ancient and wrong . It ripples through my chest, down my spine, blooming behind my ribs like a second heartbeat made of fire.
It’s never been this strong. Not even when I burned Veyra to ash.
This is different. Bigger. Older.
Like something inside me has finally stopped pretending to sleep.
I hear their voices, still—somewhere above me. Still shouting. But the sound stretches, warps—like echoes underwater, far away and unreachable. I try to say something. To tell them I can’t hold it in… but all that escapes is a broken gasp.
Then—
“Naera?”
Selis.
Her voice slices through the static like a bell ringing in a storm. Somehow, I sense her stumble forward, feet skidding in the dirt.
“Naera—”
The light claws through me—hot and sharp, too much. I can’t hold it. I can’t contain it.
Then—arms.
Familiar. Solid.
Selis.
Her grip lands like an anchor thrown into wild water. And the thing inside me—the beast of fire and glow and god-hunger— flinches .
Because even the wildest things fear being held gently.
I fall limp into her hold, everything in me going loose and useless.
She drops to her knees with me, the momentum jarring but grounding. Her hands clutch my shoulders, not rough but firm . Shaking me just enough to pull me toward her voice.
“Naera,” she says again, rough and panicked. “Hey—look at me. Look at me. ”
I try. Selene, I try.
But I can’t.
Ria’s voice cuts through the blur next—soft and terrified.
“Selene guard her,” she breathes. “Selene, hold her. Let the light pass through her without—”
The words drift away.
Everything drifts.
Even Selis’s voice fades, swallowed by the surge behind my eyes.
I fall again. But this time, there’s no catching me.
Only light.
And then—
Nothing.
***
I’m standing in The Garden again.
The air feels held, like it’s waiting to exhale.
Before me, the statue of Selene towers. She’s carved in soft white stone. Except now—
Now she’s tainted red.
Blood streaks down the folds of her robes. It drips from her fingertips, gathers in the marble basin at her feet.
“Selene?”
My voice feels small. Wrong. Like it doesn’t belong here.
The statue moves. Her head turns toward me—slow, aching stone grinding in place.
Eyes. She has real eyes.
They are pale and moonless.
And they see me.
Then the vision shifts—quick, like the world being yanked sideways. I’m somewhere else. The sky is split down the center, half-dark, half-burning. Eclipse light washes everything in silver-red.
The glowing daughters are lined up in rows. All of them in white. All of them shining. All of them quiet.
And then—
Selis.
She’s across the altar. Bound in chains. Writhing, screaming— screaming my name .
Her voice cracks against the sky. I try to run to her, but the ground pulls away beneath me—stone turning to ash, feet lost in it—
And then I’m somewhere else again.
This time, I’m above .
I’m glowing like a star, held aloft in sacrifice. My hair floats around me like smoke. My arms are outstretched. My body—offered.
I can’t move.
Below me, the altar is slick with blood.
Above me—Selene’s moon. Wide. Watching. And then I hear it. Not aloud. Not spoken .
A voice inside me.
Cold. Endless. Beautiful.
“Come back to me. Unmake what was broken.”
It pounds like a drum behind my eyes.
My lips part, and I whisper, “What if I don’t want to die?”
The voice answers, unfazed. Unchanging.
“Unmake what was broken.”
It’s not a plea. It’s a command.
And then—
I start to fall.