Chapter 7 #3
“Long ago,” Rulene began, “humanity on this continent existed as one nation. A single people, ruled by eight gods. Ruled by us.” She unclasped her hands, rainbows spilling from her palms. “It was not until the Scourge rebelled and the First War began that the idea of separate nations spread amongst humans.
“And we cannot fault you for that. After Flétrir’s betrayal, we decided that we could no longer rule you in that way. Humans needed one of their own to govern them; worshipping their sovereigns only had the effect of convincing us we were something we were never meant to be.”
Mariah furrowed her brow in confusion, even as Rulene’s yellow stare briefly met hers.
“We chose the human commander, Xara, to be the first true human leader. But after the war, when us gods agreed to disperse and rest our physical bodies within the earth, we neglected to foresee that the lure of our unique power might draw different peoples away from each other. The continent had always had regions; it made sense that humans would want to return to their homes. The concentration of our individual magics in those areas only served to fuel this idea of division, of difference.”
This was not a history Mariah had heard. Based on the blinking and confused faces of the others in the groves, she was not alone.
Was this why each kingdom had their own kind of magic? Why there were no shifters in Onita or fire wielders in Kreah?
Did it mean that with time and the awakening of the gods, the geographic lines between different magics could blur or fade away entirely?
“Perhaps we were shortsighted,” Rulene continued.
“But it does not matter now. Humanity invented the idea of nations and boundaries, not the gods. While I choose what is now Kreah as my resting place, and while this land is now seeped in my magic of change, all those who dwell beneath the skies fall under my domain. Kreah may claim me as its own, but I am a god of this continent. As is Callamus and Priam and Krilene and Ydros and Qhohena and Zadione.”
Sharp inhales spiked from the Elders at the mention of the Goddess of Death. Mariah’s mind raced with Rulene’s words.
Goddess of the continent. Not of Kreah.
So, what did that mean for Kol?
What did that mean for Mariah, bearing Qhohena and Zadione’s grace?
And why was it now so silent?”
“This history—it is new to us, Holy One,” Odelle said feebly, her face still washed of color.
Rulene’s eyes sharpened. “History is never new. It is simply forgotten.”
Odelle again looked as if she would leave her lunch in the sands, but she bowed her head and stepped back.
“As Rulene makes clear,” Callamus said, lifting his chin.
“We exist to protect all peoples and all nations. We will not abandon those in need to face the coming darkness alone.” He turned to Mariah.
“This is why we support the Onitan Queen and urge this Council to welcome her people to Kreah. Until the darkness can be burned out, once and for all.”
Silence echoed through the grove. It was an unsteady silence, an uncomfortable and wary hush that prickled at Mariah’s skin like thousands of needles.
The Elders shared a long look. The gods, for their part, continued to look ageless and unbothered, though Mariah swore she caught the faint twinkle of frustration in Rulene’s eyes.
“Very well,” Odelle finally said. “We cannot ignore the pleas of a goddess.” Rulene bristled at the word pleas and Mariah held back her cringe.
“The Onitans may stay,” Miron continued. “For now. But any further slight on our hospitality will not be tolerated. We expect advanced notice of all major moves in the future, Queen.”
“If it directly affects Kreah,” Mariah said, “you will be informed.”
The six Elders stared her down. Mariah could feel the way they hated this, the way they didn’t want to say yes. They shifted closer to each other, a united force against what they still clearly saw to be a foreign invasion.
While they nodded their heads in acquiescence, Mariah knew this matter was far from over. No matter what their gods said, the Elders would be back.
An ache hummed behind Mariah’s temple. As abruptly as they’d arrived, the Elders stomped off down the path, sands dusting up beneath their feet.
The moment their steps could no longer be heard, Mariah dropped heavily to the ground, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes.
This day had drained her. More than she’d already been. Drained her of things she didn’t even have to give.
“You did well, Mariah.” Rulene’s soft praise had her lifting her head. The goddess’s gaze was gentle. The air was now less stifling, as if her and Callamus had withdrawn their otherness back into themselves at the Elder’s exit.
Mariah gave Rulene a small smile—barely more than a twitch of her lips—before two open, awestruck faces pulled her attention away.
“Ambassador Enoch. Lady Satya,” she said, forcing her smile into something genuine. “What an exciting reunion.”
Enoch shook his head, as if trying to clear his mind, then smiled warmly. “We saw the Council storming this way and knew they planned to ambush you. Figured you could use a friendly face.” He blinked, gaze drifting back to Rulene. “And what an honor it is to stand in your presence, Great Goddess.”
Rulene waved a hand. “None of that, Ambassador. That was all a show before. You showed true loyalty to the queen, and for that, I demand no deference from you.”
Satya bowed low. “We would have come sooner to formally welcome you to Kreah,” she said to Mariah, “but our daughters told us you needed some time to settle.” Her features softened with a mother’s gentleness.
“You have no idea how sorry we are, for all that you have endured. If there is anything you need—even if it is simply a place to talk—I am here for you.”
Tears burned behind Mariah’s eyes, a thickness clogging and catching in her throat. Words were lost and hopeless to her, so she simply nodded, clasping Satya’s offered hand.
Satya tightened her grip. “And do not let the Elders get to you. It has been thousands of years since people traveled across borders so freely. Stand strong in your convictions; our convictions are sometimes all we have.”
“Thank you,” Mariah finally managed, her voice cracking and hoarse. With a final squeeze, Satya released her, turning to her husband.
“As exciting as this all has been,” Enoch said, wrapping an arm around Satya. “I think your court has much to discuss. We will take our leave, but please know we are always available to you. Kiira or Rylla knows where to find us.”
The Ambassador and his wife—both with final, deep bows to Rulene and Callamus—slipped back onto the path, disappearing into the grove.
The interaction left Mariah feeling surprisingly hopeful.
Her gaze wandered around the grove. Kiira and Rylla excused themselves, chasing after their parents.
Matheo, Trefor, and Quentin collected their shirts from the sands, exchanging soft words as they gathered everything from the makeshift training area.
Finally, Mariah’s attention landed on Delaynie.
Her friend who was most experienced at politics and the workings of court, and who’d stood still and quiet through the dramatics.
Mariah lifted an eyebrow, seeking some sort of approval. Something that would settle the nagging, helpless feeling in the pit of her stomach, the sense that their troubles were far from over.
Delaynie only met her gaze in silence before giving a subtle shake of her head. Any hope Mariah felt collapsed in her chest.
Things had not been resolved today. It was only a delay of the inevitable.
Whatever opposition they now faced in Kreah was only just beginning.