by Claire Luana
“She’s not what I would have expected for a goddess of love,” Rika said under her breath.
Sarnak chuckled. “It is my belief that the gods and goddesses are reborn with different traits based on the cycle in which they are born. This is a cycle of war and destruction. Hence Kemala is fierce and frightening. This is also why you were born in a foreign land.”
“What do you mean?”
“If you were native Nuan, you would have met the soul-eaters when they first arrived. To be captured or killed was the only possible outcome of this encounter.”
“Or maybe I would have destroyed them and prevented them from coming to my world,” Rika shot back.
“My soul tells me this is not how it would have ended. The goddess of bright light could not have been Nuan in this lifetime. With distance came safety.”
She supposed that made sense, if she believed that whoever made these rebirth decisions somehow knew the future. And that was a lot to swallow. She changed tactics. “Tell me about these totems. What are they?”
“Each god and goddess has an item that has been given to them by the creators of old that links them to the energy of the great spirits that separated the world into its forms. To possess your totem strengthens your power immensely. It tethers you to the power of this land and your form. Of the creator spirits. You have perhaps seen some of these totems—Ajij’s trident, Bahti’s hammer, Kemala’s necklace.”
Ah. That explained the fancy necklace.
“What is the goddess of bright light’s totem?” Rika asked. Part of her refused to believe she actually was this goddess. But the rest of her—the rest of her was curious.
Sarnak turned the page. On one page was an image of a god surrounded by vines and leaves, holding a staff of twisted vines. On the other page was an image of a goddess shrouded in light, constellations bright behind her, her hair flowing in the wind. She held a strange type of sword in her hand, with two curving silver blades arcing from each end of the hilt. “Ooh,” Rika said, her eyes widening. Her body thrummed with excitement as she looked at the page, coming alive with the suggestion of power.
“Where is it?” she asked. “The sword? Knife-thingy?”
“It is in the treasure room at Nuanita castle. At least it was when we evacuated. I regret that we did not have time to save it before fleeing.”
“The palace overrun with soul-eaters?” Rika asked, dismayed.
“The same one.”
“And you say it will make me stronger?”
“Oh, yes. To lose my orb would weaken my powers greatly.” Sarnak flicked the glowing orb that floated above them and it twirled, casting twinkling light on the cave walls.
“Where’s Vikal’s staff?” she asked, peering at the picture.
“This is unknown. He possessed it when he was captured. The leeches likely hold it now, though they may not know of its importance.”
An image flared to life in her mind of the soul-eater—the first who had entered the tent the night her father had died. Its dark claws curving around a wooden staff. Was it possible…that creature held the totem? What had become of it after she had killed it? Her stomach churned as she tried to banish the image.
“You said these totems connect us to this land, the source of our power. Vikal said that when he was in my land, his powers were weakened. Do you think that his powers would have remained strong if he’d had his totem?”
“This is likely so.”
The page crackled beneath her fingers as she traced the outline of the totem. If they were going to get back to Kitina and defeat the soul-eaters, she would need all the help she could get. That meant Vikal at his full abilities. And her…whatever her powers were…at their strongest. They needed to get these totems back.
“I need not be Kemala to see your mind working in the dark spaces. You wish to recapture these artifacts.”
“Is it such a crazy idea?” Though to steal a wooden stick from an evil soul-eater army a world away did sound…kind of crazy.
“This is necessary. But not yet. Vikal has said that your control is inconsistent—your power weak. The energy of your totem would be too much for you until you gain control.”
Rika’s anger flared. Her power may have been inconsistent, but by her count, she had still killed two more soul-eaters than any other god on this stupid island.
“My people are probably being sucked dry as we speak,” Rika retorted. “There’s no time.”
“There will be only one chance to defeat the leeches. To advance before you are ready will spell disaster.”
“Then teach me,” Rika snapped. “Then we go for the totems. If I can convince the other gods,” she muttered.
“This should not be difficult. They already make plans to attack. Besides, the fates have named you their queen. They will bow to you eventually.”
Rika furrowed her brow. Queen? “What do you mean?”
Sarnak turned the page of the book back to the image of the seven gods. “The gods and goddesses are bonded. Three pairs, and a seventh, to govern the cycles.”
“I don’t understand.”
“He has not told you yet?”
“He? Who, Vikal? Told me what?”
Sarnak furrowed his brow, the lines on his face falling into shadow. “The god of green things and the goddess of bright light are mates. This is true each cycle. Same with Bahti and Kemala. Ajij has no mate this cycle, unfortunately, unless a new goddess is soon born.”
Rika shook her head, trying to process what he was saying. She held her hands up. “Wait, wait. So you’re saying that me and…Vikal, we’re destined to be together? We’re … mates?”
Sarnak cocked his head, seemingly unable to understand her reasons to be upset. “As sure as the sun rises in the east. To marry Vikal…to rule Nua. This is your destiny.”
RIKA LEAPED TO her feet, shock coursing through her like a bolt of lightning. The sudden movement jostled her wound, and she was forced to shoot a hand out against the wall to steady herself. “Why didn’t Vikal tell me?”
Sarnak remained perched serenely on the floor. “Perhaps he feared you would overreact.”
Emotions swirled through her like a tempest. Surprise, doubt, frustration…but was that…something more? Excitement? Vikal was handsome. Her senses heightened whenever he was near—his very presence set her body humming. But the circumstances…the circumstances couldn’t be more wrong. Her people were under attack from soul-eating monsters, her father had been murdered before her eyes. This was no time to selfishly think of romance. Especially with a man who had essentially helped kill her father.
She shook her head. “I can’t think about that right now. Not until the soul-eaters are destroyed.”
“This is a wise approach,” Sarnak said. “Now, sit down.”
Rika dropped onto the ground across from him, spent. She pressed a hand against the throbbing wound in her side, as if she could quiet it with a touch. Her and Vikal…fated? Mates? Her blood thrummed through her, refusing to succumb to reason. No time for romance, she told herself more forcefully.
Sarnak interrupted her downward mental spiral. “This is the thing about fate. It is fated to be. That doesn’t mean it will be. I say you are fated to be our queen, but it will not be so if you walk from this cave and surrender yourself to a soul-eater.”
“You’re talking about free will.”
“All have a say in their fate. Even the gods. To be Vikal’s mate, or not, this will be your choice.”
“That’s good, I guess,” she managed. Not that she had any idea what choice she wanted when it came to Vikal.
“Now, we return to the task at hand. You have learned, now you must awaken. To awaken is to become the goddess our people need.” Or my people need, Rika thought stubbornly.
“So how do we… awaken me?”
“Meditation.”
“Ugh.” Rika grimaced. Her mother had gotten into meditation a few years back and had tried to make the whole family do it. Her father
had lasted the longest, but even he couldn’t stand it after a few weeks. As for Rika, her mind would never stop spinning.
“This is not the meditation where you sit and breathe and try not to think about thinking. This is different.” Sarnak set aside the book, motioning for Rika to sit cross-legged across from him. It was nearly impossible in her tightly-wrapped skirt, but she did her best. He raised his hand and the orb lowered until it was floating between them. The surface dimmed, turning from bright white light to a dusky, swirling fog. Rika leaned in, fascinated by the patterns that played across the shining surface. “It’s beautiful,” she said. “The orb is your totem?”
“Look into the orb,” Sarnak instructed with a sharp nod. “Slow your breathing. Relax your body. The orb will carry you where you need to go.”
“Where is that?” Rika asked, trying to follow his instructions.
“Into the cycles. Your past.”
“I have no idea what that means.”
“You go to meet your past self.”
Rika looked up in surprise.
He hissed, pointing. “Eyes on the orb.”
Rika glowered but did as he instructed, letting out a deep breath. The silence of the cavern was broken only by the hushed sounds of her breath.
“Now. Imagine yourself inside the orb. Its swirling mist surrounds you. You are at peace within it. It begins to open. To disperse. A path is revealed. This is a familiar path.”
Rika followed Sarnak’s instructions one by one, walking in her mind’s eye from a foggy darkness into a lush jungle like she and Vikal had first traveled through. It was a strange feeling. She knew she was imagining this all, yet things were appearing that she hadn’t thought of. She pushed through the leafy fronds of forest until she emerged in some sort of garden. An explosion of plants and flowers surrounded a glassy pool. All around her, flowers bloomed and fountains tinkled with rivulets of water. The sky was dark, but for the brilliant stars and a bold, waxing moon.
“Hello?” she called. “Anyone here?” She spun around, looking for signs of life. It was peaceful in this garden, warm and soft. The edges of the world around her seemed to blur, turning the spilling jasmine and hibiscus into watercolor paintings. The stars above were impossibly big—bright enough to cast the garden in enchanted twilight, low enough to pluck like ripe fruit.
A lilting female voice sounded behind her. Rika spun to face her. “What an unusual iteration,” the woman said. She was tall and willowy, wearing luxurious fabrics in the Nuan style—rich colors of gold and magenta. An elaborate headdress of gold crowned her brow and gold bangles adorned her wrists. Thick, dark lashes framed large eyes with strange irises that shimmered silver in the starlight. Rika blinked. Perhaps it was a trick of the light.
“Who are you?” Rika asked, trying unsuccessfully to smooth the tangles in her hair.
“I’m you. Your most recent past self. My name is Liliam.”
As Rika stepped closer to the woman, a strange distortion occurred. Behind Liliam, she could see…a trail was the only way to describe it—a line of different women stretching out through the garden as far as her eye could see. Rika shook her head, overcome by the vision.
“If you stay directly in front of me, the image will be less overwhelming,” Liliam said, repositioning her body so she and Rika stood face to face. The line of what Rika could only assume were her other past selves disappeared behind Liliam’s form. Past selves. Did she really believe this strange vision? It was madness.
“Thank you,” Rika managed.
“You are different than us,” Liliam said. “Why?”
“I was born elsewhere. In another land.” She couldn’t stop staring at the woman. She had a grace and a regality about her that were impossible to imitate. This is what a queen should be. A goddess. Rika pressed her lips together to hide the gap between her teeth.
“Yet you have found your way to Nua. To the god of endings.”
“Yeah. It’s been a weird week. Nua is under attack. As is my land.”
“Nua is your land,” Liliam said. “You are tied to it. To all of us that came before you.”
Rika pursed her lips. It didn’t matter what this woman thought. She just needed to figure out how to use her powers and get back to her body.
“I see you doubt,” the woman said. “But you speak our language. The stars that watch over Nua sing in your blood, as they did in mine.”
“I can’t speak…” Rika trailed off, realizing she was speaking in Nuan. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Can you help me with our powers? I wasn’t raised in Nua, so I don’t understand them. I don’t have our totem, either, though I hope to get it.”
“It is not a thing to rush, this discovery of yourself. The constellations are our allies; they are not to be controlled or dictated to.”
“Okay, that’s good to know. The thing is, we’re in a bit of a time crunch. In a few weeks, all of Nua will be taken over by evil soul-sucking monsters. And my land…where I was born, it will be taken over as well. It’s important that you show me now.”
Liliam’s lovely face paled. “Very well. But you must listen very carefully to the things I say and meditate on each one until you come to understand them in your heart.”
Yeah, yeah, Rika thought. “I promise,” she said instead, in as solemn a tone as she could muster.
“Let us sit,” Liliam said, moving to a stone bench next to the reflective pool. Rika squeezed her eyes closed as the line of past selves became visible once again, setting her equilibrium off-kilter. She hurried to sit beside the woman and realized that she was wearing her clothes from home. Leggings and a long, silver tunic wrapped with a white obi. A pang of homesickness overtook her as she smoothed her hands down the silk of her tunic. She may be speaking Nuan, but Kitina was her home.
“You understand how the gods and goddesses arise from the creator spirits that separated the parts of our world?”
Rika nodded. She thought she did.
“The endless sky is different because although it is a part of Nua’s creation, it is also a doorway, if you will, a path that leads to other creations. We are the guardian of this path. By dividing Nua from the rest of the universe, the creator spirits had to create separateness. But there is still connection. The endless sky is that connection. Do you understand?”
“I think so,” Rika said, not sure she really did. Other creations? Like Kitina?
“There is power in the stars beyond our world, but the farther you are from Nua, the more you will need your totem to access it.”
“How do I access it?” Rika asked. “When I’ve used my power before, it was so unpredictable.”
“You likely didn’t know how to summon it correctly. Imagine you are tied to a star by a leash. It is tied to you. We call it tethering. It pulls you, but you can also pull it. All that is required to do this is knowing and will.” Liliam lifted one of her hands and pointed at a star. It pulsed and surged, and when she swooped her hand back towards her, the light came too, skimming across the surface of the pool to rest above her hand. Rika squinted, shielding her eyes against the glare. Liliam flicked her hand again and the star shot back towards its source, quivering as it settled back into the obsidian sky.
“So…will…and knowing? What do you mean by knowing?”
“Know which star you are calling on and it will come to you. Different stars have different powers…intuition, love, battle. Different personalities. The character of the power you draw will be ever-so-slightly altered depending on what star you summon. Learn the identities and traits of the stars. Come to know them and they will come to know you. In time they will become like old friends.”
Rika nodded, though she wouldn’t have anywhere close to time enough for that. She’d have to settle for obedient acquaintances. “What about the constellations? I summoned a constellation once.”
“The constellations have even more unique personalities. They have minds of their own, though their thoughts are simple.” Liliam reach
ed up again, focusing on a cluster of stars hanging over the horizon. The stars shimmered and shuddered, and when she pulled, they swooped towards the ground in the form of a massive eagle—a patch of night made manifest. Rika ducked as it flew over their heads, soaring up into the sky and turning for another pass. Liliam directed it back where it came from and it returned to its place in the heavens, filling the darkness so quickly that Rika could hardly believe she hadn’t imagined it. “That was amazing!” she said, thinking of little Cygna, the night sparrow. Did she have the power to bring such huge constellations to life?
“It is really quite simple. They are our allies, each of them tethered to you. They will want to protect Nua. To obey you.”
“How do you know which ones are constellations? Which can come to life? There are so many stars…”
Liliam frowned. “Your sight is blocked if you cannot see their life-forces—the ties that bind them to you.” Liliam took Rika’s hands in her own, her skin as soft as butter. The woman leaned forward and kissed Rika—first on each eyelid and then in the center of her forehead. It was a strange feeling, kissing yourself. “All our wisdom and skill is within you. You need only look within yourself and allow your mind to reveal it to you.”
Easy for you to say, Rika thought. But when she opened her eyes, the world was transformed.
The stars shone with gossamer threads, hundreds upon thousands of lines of spiderweb silk running…to her. The constellations shone brighter, threaded together in images of leaping koi, prancing rams, and fierce dragons. Rika squeezed her eyes closed, overwhelmed by the connectedness of it all.
“Now you see,” Liliam said. “We need only to ask and they will obey.”
Rika opened her eyes and saw that she was threaded to Liliam as well—to all the women behind her. Generations of goddesses bathed in starlight.
“It’s incredible. Now how do I turn it off?” She laughed weakly. Any movement shifted the shining threads, setting off her equilibrium. She thought she might throw up.
