by J. C. Hart
The smoke would draw them here, surely. Iraja would find the way, but still Aida felt like she needed to leave more of a sign. She ripped a bit of fabric from her shirt and tied it to a tree and was in the middle of creating a large arrow out of dead branches when someone approached.
"What are you doing?" The question snapped out of Vana, and Aida stood, her spine made of rock.
"I’m just…"
"You’re leaving them signs." Vana stormed to her, snatched the branch out of her hands and kicked the others away. She focused her fury on the scrap of material then, pulling the whole branch off the tree. "Why? Do you hate me so? Did you want them to take you? Should I have just left you there?"
Aida slapped her mother across the cheek. Vana reeled, stumbled backwards and fell to the ground. Aida’s heart stopped, but she didn’t apologize, she couldn’t. She shook with anger, with grief.
"You have been so hell bent on what you thought was best, that you never stopped to ask me what I wanted. Did you realize that? You’ve never asked, only assumed what my response would be, or considered what you wanted more acceptable than what I felt." She took a deep breath. "You’ve not once stopped to think about how I feel, about what has changed. I’m not the same person I was before, Mother. I’m not the young girl who was stolen from your hut. I’m more."
Vana stayed on the ground, her eyes fixed on the roots of a nearby tree. Aida watched as she rolled the muscles in her shoulder, as her jaw worked. Finally, Vana’s eyes flicked up and caught Aida’s.
"Don’t you think I know that? I’ve seen you with the fire, I’ve seen you with the children. I’ve noticed those moments when the words that come out of you aren’t your own." She sneered. "I’ve heard Carmel’s voice come from your mouth, whether you remember it or not. I know she’s been passing you directions, telling you where to go. And I’ve let that happen. I’ve said nothing, because I accept that this is what you are now."
"And yet you still don’t trust that I know the right thing to do. Not here, not with this."
Vana pushed up from the ground and crossed to Aida. Her touch was soft as she stroked Aida’s hair, her voice was soft too. "I just want you to be safe. I risked everything to come and get you back, and now you’re telling me you want to wait for them." Her voice broke, and she closed her eyes.
Aida reached around her mother then, cradled her, let her sob. "I have the goddess inside me mother," she whispered. "And she will keep me safe."
"But that’s my job."
Aida didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t equipped for this, didn’t have the time or the experience. She was still just a young girl in so many ways—despite her denial of that.
Just let her cry, little one. Hold her close. And then remind her that we don’t have to do everything alone, we don’t have to be responsible for everything and everyone.
I wish you’d just tell her. It would be a lot easier. Aida couldn’t help but pout a little.
You of all people know that she still isn’t quite sure if she can trust me. But you can tell her that I promise no harm will come to you. You’re standing on my mountain, and I will be right beside you.
She waited until her mother had finished crying. Until she’d pulled herself back together, and then she gave her a small smile. "Serafina says that we’re on her mountain now, and she will be there with me. She won’t let anything hurt me. She promises."
"I’m not sure I trust her promises." Vana sighed.
"I know, but give her a chance to prove that you can. Please? For me." Aida bit her lip, waiting. She knew that she could do this alone if she needed to. She would sneak away, disobey her mother. But she would rather not. Not this time.
Vana nodded, slow and uncertain, but still it was permission. Aida leapt at her, hugging her fiercely, a smile cracking her face. "Thank you! Thank you. You won’t regret this, Mother. I know I can do this. I’ll stop them once and for all, and our people will be safe."
"So I am to leave you here?" Vana asked. "All alone?"
Aida shook her head. "I am never alone." And now she didn’t feel so bad about that. Serafina was Aida’s goddess, and she was truly blessed to have such an intimate relationship with her. And Carmel was like a grandmother, her calm warmth radiated throughout Aida when she needed it most.
We’re so proud of you, child. So proud.
Aida grinned, but then dampened her smile. It wasn’t what her mother needed to see right now.
Vana chewed her lip before she spoke. "If this was just about Iraja, I would say yes. I would let you stay here and face her. But I traveled to get you and the others home safe, and everyone else needs to see that. Don’t you get it? This isn’t just about you, or what you want. It’s not about revenge, or stopping the Asakans from ever coming back. Our people need us, they need this small victory so that they can believe that there might be other victories. So they can feel like what was lost can be regained." Vana sighed and shook her head. "You have changed, I know this. And you’re not just my little girl anymore. Whether you like it or not, you are our new beacon of hope, so you need to come home."
Aida sagged. "But…"
"No." Vana kicked out the last of the telltale signs of an arrow and held her hand out to Aida. She took it wordlessly. "Right now, you are my daughter, and you will trust that I know what’s best for you, for our people. Understand? And after you have come home and our people have seen you, you can come back and do what you must."
Aida nodded. Her eyes brimmed with unshed tears, but a small part of her heart was warmed, reignited. For the first time in days her mother was actually acting like a mother. And maybe she did have a point.
***
The rest of the journey was uneventful. Aida stayed silent, though it was anything but inside her head.
I can tell you as soon as they come across the bridge. If they come, Serafina assured.
I thought you were sure they would. I know Iraja, that woman is fierce, determined, Carmel added.
But will she dare to enter my lands? This is my domain, and I am stronger here.
Stronger, but still not as strong as you used to be.
Aida will change that, won’t you, little one?
I will do what I can. What I must.
And if you can’t, then let me speak for you, child. We are here to support you, you know that don’t you?
Aida said nothing, thought nothing. One foot moved in front of the other and that was all that mattered. Soon they would be with their people again.
7
Someone cried ahead of them, shouts burst into the air and footsteps pounded as parents came to find their children. Lucian grasped Aida’s hand, small eyes wide as he searched for his parents. They never came.
"Where’s my daddy?"
"I don’t know, honey. I don’t know." She scooped him into her arms and let him bury his face into her neck. She walked through the crowd, trying to find his parents. Finally, she laid eyes on her step-father, Jonti. He stood at a distance, though her little brother, Gabe, ran to her and squeezed her tight.
"I never thought I’d be pleased to see you again. I’m so glad Mama found you."
"Me too, Gabe, me too." She felt numb inside when she should have been overwhelmed by love. She walked over to Jonti, hoping he held the answers. "Do you know where Lucian’s parents are?"
Jonti shook his head. He reached out and grasped her shoulder. "They fell, in the attack." His words were a whisper, but the child still heard, his body stiffening in her arms as he sobbed.
"Oh, honey, don’t worry. We’ll take care of you. I’m your family now. And I promise, I promise I won’t let anything happen."
You won’t let anything happen to me, Serafina, will you? You can show him his parents, can’t you? You took them up, tell me you took them up.
Of course I have them, little one.
A sense of calm fell over her. "Honey, I can show you your parents. They might have passed, but they’re with us, always. In our hearts, and in the
flames. Do you want to see them again?"
He nodded against her shoulder and she turned her eyes to Jonti. "Where is the circle?"
"Come." He led them away from the rest of the crowd, though they all turned to watch her go.
Aida could feel their eyes on her and she remembered what the children had said. She glowed. Even now? When her heart felt sore for this young boy? The crowd followed, keeping their distance until they came to the circle. She stopped near the fire ring and put the boy down, prying his arms from her neck.
"It’s okay. I’m going to call the flames, just like I did back at the great hall. Do you remember? But this time, you’re going to see something special."
He nodded, finally letting her go. She crouched down in the dirt and reached towards the half burned logs in the pit. She closed her eyes and called the heat that lived inside her body now, forcing it out into the wood. The flames sprang up, unnaturally tall, the shape inside them instantly recognizable. And when Aida spoke, the words echoed inside her mind as well as in the real world.
"My children." The goddess smiled and Aida wondered if everyone else was as affected by it as she. "You found your new home, and your children have been returned. Much was lost for this, but much has been gained."
The crowd drew closer. Bodies pressed against her and whispers wended through. Did Aida call the flame? Is she the one now?
"Aida was wounded, but Carmel gave up her life in order to revive the girl, and thus passed on her gifts. Aida is now my priestess, the beacon of my power in the world."
Not just the beacon, the hostess, apparently.
Oh, come, little one, Serafina admonished. You didn’t want to die, if you did, this would never have happened. You craved life, and warmth, you yearned for my fire. And now you can do what is most important to you—protect the innocent ones. Keep the children safe.
"The threat is not over, not entirely. The priestess of the All Mother will come again, seeking revenge, and it is up to us to stop her," Serafina spoke.
Why are you telling them this? I’m going to fix it. They didn’t need to know.
I disagree. They need to know there is a threat and that you can save them from it.
Aida clenched her teeth but didn’t retaliate.
"We’ll kill her this time! We won’t stay weak!" someone called from the crowd. Aida spun to see who it might be, but she couldn’t tell.
"Death is not the only option," Aida spoke now. She stepped closer to the flames, turning her back to the goddess. "We are not a violent people, we don’t need to resort to that to make her leave us in peace."
"Then what do you suggest? She had our people killed, she stole our children. She doesn’t deserve to live," Vana said. The firelight caught her eyes, made them gleam. It took Aida right back to the day she’d been rescued and the way her mother had moved, ruthlessly murdering their captors. She hadn’t seemed to stop for a moment to second guess her choice, had been so focused on the fight.
Aida could never be like that, and she wondered for a moment whether she had it in her to find a balance between the passivity of her people and the aggression of her mother.
Once, she’d been a fiery girl herself, but now, with the wisdom of years, aeons, inside her, everything felt different. A small mortal life was nothing, and everything.
"I can find a way to make this stop. Once and for all. If you’ll trust me."
She could feel eyes appraising her. She could almost read their thoughts. Who does she think she is? She’s just a young girl, she knows nothing of war, nothing of peace. How can we trust her when we don’t even know what she is? Who she is?
"It is vital that we don’t become like them." She raised her voice, eyed the crowd. "That we don’t let our true nature be overcome with the lust for blood. We are Nivaen, and we do not create war. We are peaceful, but strong. We are not forceful, but we are a force to be reckoned with. Let me show her that." The tone of her voice had sharpened as she spoke. The heat of the fire licked at her back and she could feel the presence of the goddess, looming behind her. Aida glanced down and saw that her skin glowed bright orange, radiating Serafina’s power. The people stood in awe now, eyes rounded, mouths open.
Jonti dropped to his knees, then Loren, Aubrie, the others followed suit until it was just Vana standing before her.
"Mother."
"Aida." Vana gave her a nod, then slowly knelt with the rest of the village.
Aida looked across their bowed heads, a feeling of pride swelling in her chest.
It’s working, child. They didn’t even bow to me when I returned, and I showed them their ancestors.
I don’t want them to bow to me. I just wanted them to listen. Aida threw up the walls in her mind and crossed to her mother, forcing her back to her feet.
8
She has come across the bridge. I can feel the All Mother’s presence.
How many are with her?
She comes alone.
Alone?
Yes.
9
It had taken four days for Iraja to make it to the bridge, and Aida left moments after she heard Serafina’s voice. She slipped from the village, not wanting to cause a fuss or create a stir. She just wanted to do this thing alone, and quickly.
Well, as alone as one could be with a goddess and her priestess inside. Aida had let her barriers slip, and Carmel was there, virtually holding her hand as Aida ran through the woods, employing the skills her mother had passed down to her. Serafina gave her updates, guided her feet and when she reached the clearing where Vana had discovered her arrow of branches, she stopped.
She won’t be far. Are you ready, little one?
I don’t know. Am I meant to be? I don’t really feel any more equipped than when I was a normal girl.
Oh, child, you know that’s not the truth of it. Don’t deny that your whole life has changed.
She wanted to say that she wasn’t sure whether it was for the better, not here and now when they might abandon her.
We will never abandon you. We are one. We are the Goddess.
Aida shook out her hands, noticing the sweat beading on her brow. Was that from the nerves or from the goddess burning inside her? She could sense Serafina there, barely contained. It was a struggle to keep herself at the front, but she knew she would be dealing with another human, and maybe being her human self would help.
It wasn’t long until she could hear twigs snapping, and the huff of a weary traveler. Iraja broke free of the woods and entered the clearing, her gaze on the sky until she spotted Aida in her periphery.
"You." The other woman’s lip curled in distaste.
Aida frowned. She could understand Iraja with no difficulty.
I’m a part of you, and so is my knowledge, child. How do you think you’ve known her name for so long?
Thank you, Carmel, Aida said, still unnerved. She opened her mouth, paused, hoping she would speak Asakan as fluently as she could understand it. "You’ve come a long way. Would you like some water, food?" Aida spread her hands wide, indicating that she had no weapon. To her side was her pack, a canteen of water beside it, along with some bread wrapped in cloth.
"I would not break bread with the likes of you." Iraja sniffed in distain. "I can see your goddess burning within. Is there anything left, or are you like Carmel now? Subsumed by her."
Aida paused a moment, checked inside herself. It wouldn’t take much for Iraja’s words to be true. She closed her eyes for a moment, throwing up the walls she’d created, blocking out the voices of Carmel and Serafina.
"I’m still my own person. Just a young girl who was taken from her people, whose life was changed irrevocably by your actions."
"Carmel took something from us, took two of our children, shunned the All Mother for an old goddess, almost burned out. She chose that instead of everything the All Mother has to offer. She had to pay."
"She chose that because we’re her family, and because her son asked for it. Who are you to deny her? Ju
st because our ways are not yours, it doesn’t mean that they are any less worthy of respect and consideration." Aida shook her head, feeling all of Carmel’s sorrow. "Perhaps if you’d taken the time to understand that, we wouldn’t be standing here." Aida looked Iraja in the eyes then. "Tell me. As one chosen by her goddess, if your roles were reversed, would you be able to release your goddess from your heart?"
"Of course not! I am her faithful servant, her mouthpiece. She is everything to me."
"And yet you expected Carmel to do that. If not you, then others of your kind."
Well said, child. I told your mother virtually the same thing. We’re stubborn, all of us.
Hush now, I have to focus.
Iraja cocked her head, a smug smile on her face. "But my goddess is the true goddess, yours is... weak. Puny."
Aida felt heat rush to the surface of her skin—the glow radiating brightly. "Not seeking retribution doesn’t make her weak."
Iraja sauntered closer. "If she were strong enough, she would have come for us, like I came for Carmel. She would have taken her revenge and burned us to the ground leaving destruction in her wake."
"You came for Carmel, that’s true." An idea swirled in Aida’s mind, and then it clicked. This was personal for Iraja. "But did your goddess come too? When was the last time the All Mother spoke to you?" Aida asked, keeping her voice gentle. She took a step towards the foreign woman.
There was a slight twitch around Iraja’s eyes, a brief look of fear as her pupils dilated and then she locked her emotion down. "I speak to her all the time. She knows my heart." Iraja folded her arms across her chest, squaring her shoulders and setting her jaw.
"But do you know hers?" Aida put a touch of Serafina’s magic into the question, a little of her warmth and love. Aida was close to Iraja now and she could see the furrows on priestess’s head warring, grief and rage, denial and acceptance.
