Chapter 26 Glade
Everything changed after my first meeting with the elder Fae.
Nothing physically drastic, but my entire worldview, my understanding of the universe and the Goddess herself, had transformed.
For as long as I could remember, I had been taught to believe that there was only one Goddess, Amantius, and that we must pray to her and heed only her will.
But that was a lie.
Amantius was not the only God within this universe. Somewhere out there, lurking in the shadows of dark matter, was The Other.
It was unfathomable to think that a God could be so cruel, so heartless, so evil.
For so long, it had been easier to accept that another humanoid species was wreaking havoc on the universe for their own gain.
But now, I knew the truth: those same people were merely servants to a far greater, more relentless force.
A God.
For so long, I had yearned to be on the front lines of battle, eager to make a difference in this war. But now, I wasn’t so sure. How could a measly human stand against a God?
And then there was Jane. Somehow, she was expected to bear the weight of the cosmos on her shoulders, despite having no idea or instruction on how to do so.
Up until now, I had thought that Amantius had bestowed a beautiful, extraordinary gift upon her.
But now, all I could see was a burden, a curse.
For an entire week, I wrestled with these conflicting thoughts, torn between my attempts to help the elder Fae with their investigation into the abductions of the villagers.
Each morning, I trekked with Gioran and his mate, Orrin, to the last known locations of the missing Fae, where we retraced the victims’ steps in hopes of uncovering any clue that might explain how they were taken without a trace.
But we found nothing. Not a single piece of evidence to help solve the mystery.
My afternoons were spent training Jane to harness Source Light. Unfortunately, those efforts had also yielded little progress. Jane still couldn’t manage even a flicker of Light, and her growing frustration was becoming increasingly apparent.
I was at a loss for how to train her. I wasn’t equipped with the knowledge to control a power as vast as that of a Goddess.
Yet, despite my doubts, I never let them show while instructing Jane.
The best thing I could do for her was to offer my support and believe in her…
Even when she couldn’t believe in herself.
Each night, Jane and I shared dinner with the Fae civilians in one of their community refectories. Despite being a strange breed of humanoids, they were welcoming and kind, regaling us with stories of their beloved home world, Verdantis.
Jane would often recount her childhood and what it was like growing up on Earth, a planet that had no interaction with any intergalactic anthropomorphic species.
The Fae found her stories fascinating, asking numerous questions about Earth’s politics, technology, and culture.
Jane was always patient with their inquiries, making sure to answer each question thoroughly. I admired her kindness.
After dinner, Jane and I would walk back to our cabins, side by side in silence.
The elder Fae had generously allowed us to stay in two small log houses, each equipped with a kitchenette and a bed.
Inside, a small wooden fireplace stood in the corner, which I would light every night.
As I watched the embers dance and play, my eyes would grow heavy, and eventually, they would shut in exhaustion.
On the seventh afternoon, Jane and I met in a clearing on the far side of the mountain to practice her harnessing once more. The spot had become our favourite, often finding Mir here, sprawled out after consuming dozens of sheep, dozing off like a big cat.
The air was chill and crisp, biting at my skin, but I welcomed the reprieve it offered from the anguish in my mind. On top of this mountain, I could breathe clearly, gather my thoughts, and attempt to make sense of the obsessive, nagging thoughts that had plagued me for days.
But, for over an hour, Jane tried once again to harness her Light, without success. Her exasperation boiled to a simmering point, and with a cry of frustration, she slammed her fists to her sides, letting out a shriek.
In that moment, she collapsed onto the freezing, rocky ground below.
She curled up, pulling her legs tightly to her chest and wrapped her arms around them in a protective embrace.
Her forehead dropped to rest against her knees, utterly defeated and depleted, while the rest of her body went limp with grief.
I had never been good at comforting others in the midst of emotional turmoil, but I couldn’t stand to see her like this.
Despite my earlier declaration that nothing romantic would happen between us again, I was starting to care for Jane as a person, as a friend.
And I couldn’t help but want to do anything I could to make her feel better.
I lowered myself onto the frigid stone ground, the bitterness sending a biting prickle through my entire body. Still, I crossed my legs and inched closer to Jane, until our bodies were almost touching, and she was within arm’s reach.
“Jane,” I said softly, hoping she would lift her chin to look at me. “Jane.”
Reaching out my hand, I brushed a stray piece of hair from her forehead, but she still didn’t meet my gaze. Instead, her body rose and fell in heavy, uneven breaths as she struggled to calm herself.
“You know,” I gently began, “I spent thirty years believing that Amantius was the only Goddess in this universe…that our entire existence as a species was one of pure love and Light. Only now, after all this time, to learn it was all a lie. I thought I understood everything about this universe, about life. It was comforting, in a way. But now, I’m not so sure. ”
Jane’s face, though red and blotchy, gradually lifted from her knees. Her tear-filled hazel eyes found mine, and her lips pulled down in a faint frown, one I wished to never see again.
But still, I found her attention. She was listening.
“I’ve been a real jackass to you,” I continued.
“And I want to apologize. My father took you from your home world, dropped you on Ornath without a second thought, and we all just expected you to accept it and move on. I never considered how devastating it must have been… For everything you knew to…be a lie.”
I shifted closer, as close as I could without pushing too hard, hoping she’d let me in, let me into that stubborn but brave heart of hers.
Though despair still hung over her, Jane wiped her nose with the sleeve of her jacket and tried to suppress a sniffle.
“I don’t know what to do, Glade,” she confided as her voice cracked on my name.
“I don’t understand how I could wield so much power that one night, only to be unable to do it again.
Amantius gifted me her Light. Why hasn’t she granted me access again?
It feels like some cruel, sick joke. I’m supposed to be Amantius’s chosen one, but I can’t even summon the smallest flicker of Light in my hands.
I feel like a fraud. A failure. An imposter.
And I just… I miss my home. No matter how awful it was.
At least there, I was ignorant. There, I didn’t know about the horrors of the universe.
I didn’t have to feel the pressure of everything and everyone on me.
I could think about stupid, insignificant things without being conscious of the fact that trillions of lives were depending on me.
I wish I could go back to that…before all of this.
But I can’t, because it would be selfish of me.
It would be wrong.” Her voice broke, and she sniffled, wiping her nose on her sleeve once more.
“It’s like I never had a choice. I didn’t choose to be the Last Daughter of Domus. ”
She paused, breathing unevenly, before the intensity and thickness of her voice eased, fuelled by fatigue.
“But I can’t give up, Glade. Not when people like Jodana and Kaiyah have suffered in this fight.
Not when innocent people like my mother and father were murdered just so some dark force could consume their Light.
I owe it to them to keep fighting, to keep going, no matter how hard it gets.
But…I’m so tired. I don’t know how much longer I can do this. ”
My chest ached with an affliction I had never known as I watched Jane pour her heart out, exposing the depths of her very soul.
Every fiber of my being wanted to pull her into my arms, to hold her there and shield her from the load she carried.
I couldn’t even begin to imagine the dread she must feel, yet I felt it emanating, pulsating, and pressing down on me, too, as I gazed at her.
Instead, I reached out and rested my hand on her shoulder.
“You’re not alone in this fight, Jane. I may not bear pink Light, but I will stand beside you every step of the way.
I’m here with you, and I’m not going anywhere.
I told you before…I’d lay my life on the line for you. We’ll figure this out. Together.”
The raw and honest words escaped my lips before I could hold them back. Perhaps a mistake.
A faint, hopeful smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, and my heart surged with joy seeing even a tinge of light return to her eyes.
“Thanks, Glade,” she said, her muffled voice now more stable than before. “You might come off as this rugged, tough warrior, but deep down…you’re really just a big softy, aren’t you?”
I grinned, feeling adoration spread through me. “The biggest.”
Jane snuffled and loosened her grip on her knees, instead crossing her legs beneath her as she gazed off into the distance, her eyes lost somewhere beyond the clouds that hovered miles away.
“I just wish I could have met them, you know? My mom and dad. I wish I could have seen their faces, heard their voices, known who they were. That’s been the hardest part for me.
I’m the Last Daughter of Domus, but I don’t know anything about the planet, about who I am, where I came from.
I just wish…just once, I could have seen it. ”
Something inside me clenched. And so, an idea formed—a thought that should have crossed my mind long ago. If there was any way I could give her even a glimpse of what she’d lost, I’d do it.
“Would you like to?” I eagerly asked.
She blinked repeatedly, her pupils snapping back to mine, her brows lowering with confusion, though hope mingled in her eyes. “What?”
“Would you like to see Domus?” I repeated, emphasizing each word with purpose and intention.
Her eyes widened, filling with a glimmer of desire and longing I hadn’t seen on her before.
She whispered, “More than anything.”