Chapter 15 The Weight of the Oath
THE WEIGHT OF THE OATH
“Six of you shall rise, each marked by fate, each bound by soul. When your mates awaken, the world will begin to heal. Guard them with your life, for through them, the balance shall be restored.”
—Elder A?na, during the Oath of Guardianship
Theron
The air feels sacred. Even with my strength, I feel small under the goddess’s gaze. The forest, the air, the world bows to her presence—and so do I. My crystals pulse with the energy surrounding her, but they feel insignificant in the face of her divine light.
Yesterday, I was running through these trees, following the barest hint of sweetness in the wind. Now, here I stand, having found my mate and torn apart the man who dared to harm her.
It’s been a lifetime of waiting for some word from the goddesses, any word. Each century that passed, their voices grew fainter. We’d begun to wonder if they had left us entirely.
And now, here she is. A goddess, standing before my mate in all her glory. It’s more than I ever thought I’d witness in my life, more than any vólkin has experienced in generations.
Noel stands beside me, eyes wide, mesmerized by her presence. Her wonder mirrors my own, though for entirely different reasons. This is all new to her—this world, the spirits, the goddesses—but for me, it’s a return to something ancient that was lost to time.
“My beloved children.” The goddess’s voice vibrates deep within my very soul. “Hear my words.”
Six goddesses rule the lands: Láda Velé?a, Vodínaya, Zárya, Du?ava, Beregína, and Dalyéora.
However, I don’t know which one is speaking.
I know what they’re supposed to look like.
Elder A?na describe them to us as pups, but now, with all the blinding light, it’s hard to tell.
Every goddess has her own unique powers and characteristics, and each one represents a different aspect of nature and our lives.
“Noel, chosen Lidé?en,” the goddess says, her voice tender and powerful, “your journey has just begun. The strength within you is greater than you think, and your heart, though wounded, holds the power to heal this world.”
Lidé?en, an ancient word from a language long forgotten. It means leader.
“In the depths of ávera lies the sacred glade,” the goddess continues, “where the roots of our world’s balance intertwine. You must seek this place, for there you will find the key to restoring harmony.”
When I glance at Noel, I catch the slight tremble of her lips as she processes the words.
She’s strong, but I can see her heart is heavy, full of questions and doubts.
I find myself reaching out without thinking, brushing a lock of her silky hair behind her ear.
She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t pull away. Her trust in me is growing, little by little.
“Theron, noble guardian.” The goddess turns her gaze to me. “Your bond with the Lidé?en is the light that will guide you both through the darkness. Trust in each other, for your spirits are intertwined by destiny’s thread.”
Destiny. Her words are a command, a vow I’m bound to fulfill. My mate. My Lidé?en.
I nod. The oath I took during the Coming of Age Ritual weighs heavy in my heart, woven into every level of my being.
This is who I am and the purpose I serve.
That night, under the glow of the full moon, each of us who had reached a hundred years stood in the sacred glade.
We were so young then, on the cusp of becoming warriors, each offering our lives to the goddesses.
The Oath of Guardianship was etched into our souls, becoming a living part of us.
With every challenge I’ve faced, that promise has thrummed in the back of my mind, guiding my every decision.
From the moment we are born, we are taught that our role isn’t only to fight but to be the guardians of our mates, their protectors, their strength in the darkness.
But never in all my life did I think my duty would become so clear.
Now, that oath has a name. Noel.
The promise that once seemed distant has now become the center of my existence.
“Know this: The path ahead is perilous, but you are never alone. The spirits of the forest, the whispers of the wind, and the goddesses’ essences are with you. Together, you shall mend what has been broken.”
The goddess’s eyes are now fixed on my mate.
“Remember, the power of the blue rose lies within you, Noel. Let it guide you as you embrace your destiny.”
Then, with a final gesture, she lifts her hands and says, “We will meet again at the bonding ritual, Ethereal Leader.”
As the goddess fades into the air, the light disappears fully, but I can still feel her presence, a hum of warmth beneath my fur.
The glowing nymphí, who stood so silently, lower their heads in deep devotion before slowly dispersing back into the forest. The clearing falls back into stillness, but nothing feels the same.
Everything is about to change—for Noel, me, and all of ávera.
Noel is too quiet, and though her expression remains neutral, I can sense something isn’t right.
“I know it’s a lot,” I tell her. I want to reach out, to hold her, but something about her posture keeps me rooted in place.
Her eyes shift toward me, her brow furrowing. “A lot? That doesn’t even begin to cover it.” Her tone is sharp but not aggressive. I can hear the exhaustion in her voice. She’s holding it together, but only just.
I give her a nod of understanding. “Ask me anything. I will answer your every question.” I want to ease her burden, but I know this isn’t something that will go away with a few answers. She’s carrying the prophecy now, a role she never even knew about.
She takes a deep breath, looking around as if searching for the right words. “Why me?”
“You are the leader—the Lidé?en—from an ancient prophecy, Noel.” I can feel the tension rising, but I remain calm. “The blue rose has always been the sign. And when I first saw you, I knew. It wasn’t just the prophecy that told me, Noel. It was you—the strength you carry within.”
She crosses her arms, her gaze hardening. “Strength? You’ve known me for what, a day? You don’t know anything about me.”
I nod again. “I may not know the details of your past, but I see the strength in you. The goddess herself spoke it. You are more than you think.”
She falls silent, her lips pressing into a thin line. She doesn’t reject my words, but she doesn’t accept them either. “You called me your mate. What does that actually mean? Why me? Is it because of this prophecy?”
“The bond between us is fated,” I explain, trying to keep my tone gentle. “It’s more than just prophecy. It’s the connection the goddesses have woven between us, something neither of us can fully understand yet. But it’s real.”
She’s quiet again, and conflict sparks in her eyes. She wants to say more, but she’s holding back. I can feel it.
A few moments pass in silence, and then, she speaks again. “The goddess said, ‘you shall mend what has been broken.’” Her voice is quieter this time. “What does that even mean?”
“The earth . . . it’s suffering from an imbalance,” I explain.
“This imbalance has disrupted the natural flow of energy between the ethereal and physical realms. The land itself is in pain, and that pain affects everything—plants, animals, even the seasons. The role of the leader, of you—us—is to restore that balance. To heal what’s been fractured for so long. ”
She frowns, her eyes narrowing. “Restore the balance,” she repeats slowly. “And I’m supposed to . . . what? Fix the entire world?”
“I’ll be with you the whole time,” I say quickly, trying to reassure her. “You won’t be alone in this. I’ll help you, guide you—”
“Stop. You keep saying that, Theron. That you’ll be with me. That I’m supposed to do this. But you don’t understand.”
I freeze, my heart beats faster. But I stay quiet, giving her space to say what she needs to say, even though the intensity of her gaze makes every muscle in my body want to reach out and comfort her.
I don’t know what to do.
She runs a hand through her damp hair, nose wrinkling. “You don’t understand what it’s like to have all this thrown at you, to be told that you’re supposed to save the world when you barely understand any of it.” Her voice rises with every word.
I open my mouth to respond, but I stop myself. Something tells me this isn’t the time for me to reassure her or tell her she’s strong enough. She doesn’t need that. She needs something I can’t quite grasp yet.
Noel’s breathing is heavier now, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tries to keep her emotions in check. But I can see the frustration, the confusion, the anger, all swirling inside her, ready to explode.
I clench my fists at my sides. Then, as I’m about to speak, she looks up at me again.
“What makes you think I’ll go to ávera with you?”