Chapter Twenty-Nine #2
He stood and walked to the window. The oak outside seemed to straighten, as if acknowledging him. The flowers in the window boxes pressed closer against the glass.
“When I met Velas, I was fading. The old forests were being cut down. People no longer left offerings at sacred groves. Forest gods were vanishing.” He touched the windowpane.
“Velas didn't try to restore the old ways.
He didn't attempt to make people believe in me as they once had. Instead, he helped me find new ways to exist. New ways to matter. We traveled and told my story. We made friends and helped people. And they listened. They called me the Green Man.” He turned back to us.
“I never thought of that as evolution, but it was.
Those people helped me to evolve into another version of myself.
Still a god of the forest, but with a name that resonated with the new generation.
When Velas died, I formed the Velasca to continue our work.
But it wasn't just two people going out among the communities and telling stories anymore. I built this place to extend my reach. I wanted to help as many myths as I could.”
My throat felt tight. Beside me, áedán went still.
“I developed a way to preserve myths. I built connections with organizations that could help me tell their stories,” Caelum continued.
“But I never realized how my ways differed from his.
I'm a myth. I thought I knew how to help others like me. But I was treating myths like artifacts rather than living beings. I forgot about the people who named this new me. And they were the key.” His gaze moved to me.
“You're right. We've been doing this wrong.”
The scritch of a pen came as Agnes wrote rapidly in her notebook.
Julian focused on Caelum. Hassan looked troubled but thoughtful.
Mei Lin was practically vibrating with excitement.
Matteo just smiled, nodded, and ate a biscuit.
áedán and I sat down. If Caelum was on board, it was as good as settled.
“We'd need structure.” Agnes tapped her pen on the table. “Guidelines for what kind of evolution is healthy versus harmful.”
“Research protocols,” Hassan added, warming to the idea. “We need to study modern cultural contexts, understand what makes myths resonate with contemporary audiences. It would require extensive fieldwork.”
“We need to form more relationships with communities.” Mei Lin clapped excitedly.
“They can help myths find new roles, new purposes.
Festivals are important, yes, but also educational programs. Environmental initiatives.
Cultural preservation projects that let myths participate rather than just be remembered.
People won't know who the myths are, but they'll feel it.”
I thought about taking áedán out in Luss, how he interacted with the people. “Yes, they know. They feel the magic in the myth, and that helps them remember.”
Ideas started flowing. Mateo offered to hold community cooking classes as a testing ground—myths and humans cooking together, sharing food traditions, building connections through something as simple as a meal.
Julian suggested we create a Velasca publishing house to make sure that the stories we wanted circulated got to the public.
I watched it happen: this shift from resistance to possibility. This was what the Velasca could be. Not a preservation group, but a bridge between the past and the future, and between humans and myths.
Caelum let the conversation build for several minutes.
Then he raised one hand, and everyone fell silent.
“A warning.” His expression was serious.
“We must not replace one false story with another.
The goal is not control. It's connection.
We help myths adapt, but we don't dictate how. We offer tools and support, but the myths themselves must choose their paths forward. Then we forge that path with them.” He looked at áedán. “What do you think?”
áedán was quiet for a moment. His hand sought mine. “I think it's terrifying. Change is always terrifying. But staying the same while the world moves on?” He shook his head. “That's not survival. That's just a slower way to die.”
“Then we're agreed.” Caelum's smile was gentle. “The Velasca must evolve, as myths must evolve. As all living things must.”
Agnes was already making lists. Hassan was muttering about research methodologies. Mei Lin had pulled out her phone and was texting someone, probably already planning the first festival.
Julian caught my eye across the table. His expression said, well done.
The meeting continued for another hour, with us hammering out details and assigning responsibilities. By the time we finished, the sun had climbed to its zenith, and the light through the windows had turned from gold to white. People filed out gradually.
Caelum lingered. He approached áedán and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Now it's time for you to decide how you evolve. Think about it carefully. If you need help, I'm always available.”
áedán's eyes were bright. “Thank you, Caelum.”
Caelum smiled and left, his bare feet silent on the wooden floor.
Then it was just us. áedán and I in the empty meeting room. Oh, and Zephyr, who was still snoring.
“You did it,” áedán said. “You changed their minds. You changed the fucking Velasca!”
“We did it.” I turned to face him. “This is for you. For all the myths who've been trying to survive in a world that keeps changing without them.”
He kissed me. Soft and careful, as if I were something precious. “I love you,” he said against my mouth.
“I love you too.” I pulled him closer. “Now, you need to think about who you want to be.”
Through the window, Velas's oak swayed in a breeze, its branches reaching toward the sky. It was still growing, still changing, still becoming something new.
Just like us.