“The lifeforce of thousands of gods is rooted here,” Raithe said, gesturing toward a colossal tree in the distance. “That one’s been standing for centuries.”
As we drew nearer, the sight of it stole the breath right out of me. It was massive, easily over a hundred feet tall. Its bark gleamed like burnished copper, and its leaves shimmered with the same metallic hue. There was something primordial about it, as though time itself had settled into its grain. Large roots twisted and braided together at the base, so deeply entwined with the soil that nothing could uproot it.
“It belongs to Caelora, a demigoddess of Vulnerability,” Raithe said. “Despite being the daughter of a greater god, she chose to plant her ossiraen here. She’s always had a taste for the unexpected. But I supposewhen you’ve lived for hundreds of years, where you anchor your soul doesn’t matter much.”
“Do you know who the others belong to?” I asked.
“Not really,” Raithe said with a shrug. “I’ve only been around a little over two decades. Being the demigod of Vengeance doesn’t exactly lend itself to socializing often.” He gave me a sad smile. “Not that I’d care to know, anyway.”
“I see,” I murmured. “Where’s yours?”
“A little farther ahead. We’ve still got a ways to go.”
“Why are you showing me all this, Raithe?”
He glanced at me, his golden eyes suddenly molten. “To convince you to drink from the Ossirae. To show you there’s more to this life than what you’ve known. Why you need to choose immortality.” He paused, his jaw ticking. “Because if you don’t, I think the only thing keeping you alive right now is Torhiel. And once you leave this place, she won’t be able to strengthen you anymore.”
He stopped, eyes steady on mine. “I can’t let that happen, Odessa.”
I heard the desperation in his voice, but it wasn’t his choice to make. I didn’t want to die, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to live either.
I brushed past the edge in his voice, continuing, “So these smaller ones, the saplings, do they belong to new gods?”
Raithe sighed, his shoulders sinking. “Some belong to lesser gods. Others are newly rooted. The stronger your bloodline, the more powerful your ossiraen becomes. But growth takes time. Years. Even centuries. It’s nurtured by mortal faith, by the passage of time, and above all, the judgment of the Ossirae. If you pass the test, you’re given a seedling. You plant it here. What it becomes is something only time can reveal.”
“What of the ones that feel... less robust?”
“There’s a god for every emotion, Odessa,” Raithe said. “Joy. Sorrow. Hunger. Grief. The divine don’t feel like mortals, we experience emotion as a force. We’re creatures of impulse, of desire. Demigodsare more tempered, sure, but the greater gods? The greater gods love with a fire that can consume worlds, and abandon that love without a second thought. They produce thousands of offspring, but only those who can prove their worth survive.” His voice took an edge. “Only those who can manifest their immortality will live. Torhiel refuses the weak.”
That hit heavy in my stomach. “I have no choice then. If I don’t do this, I’ll die either way.”
“I don’t understand how you’ve lasted this long,” Raithe said curiously. “How you’ve resisted Torhiel’s call. The moment I heard it, I answered. I was so young I barely remember anything else, but I’ll never forget that feeling. The pull of it. Nothing could have kept me from crossing into this realm.” Clearing his throat, he added, “You’re special, Odessa. Even Torhiel knows.”
Eventually, Raithe stilled and his gaze fixed ahead. I turned to follow, and then I saw.
There was a tree that stood alone, and it was as haunting as it was devastatingly beautiful. No leaves sprouted its limbs, only sharp, jagged branches that jutted out like fractured bones. The bark was a striking contrast of deep black and lustrous gold. Black swallowed the base while veins of gold streaked upward in uneven, barbed lines. It stood at least thirty feet tall and had a presence that made the others feel small.
I didn’t need to ask to know that this was Raithe’s ossiraen.
He had told me that it took years for a god’s lifeforce to grow, centuries, even. But this one had already become something monumental, something ancient in spirit. It made me uneasy. If his power had taken root so quickly, then his obsession with me felt all the more dangerous.
Raithe wasn’t just any demigod, he was powerful, and terrifyingly so. How many mortals had bargained with him? How many had offered prayers in their rage, in their thirst for vengeance? If this was the ossiraen of a demigod, I could only imagine what Vengeance itself must look like.
“My father is the god of Wrath,” I said quietly. “Which of your parents is mortal?”
Raithe was passive when he answered, “My father is.”
“So, Vengeance is... a woman? Or, I suppose, something close to it?”
He let out a laugh, followed by a wry chuckle. “The lesser and greater gods aren’t male or female. They’re divine. They love as they choose, regardless of mortal form. There are no limits for them like there are for us. We’re godlings. Part of them, but always divided.”
“I see. Where is Wrath’s ossiraen rooted?”
Raithe’s jaw tensed. His expression darkened with frustration, and when he spoke, his voice was low, more agitated than I’d ever heard it before. “Enough, Odessa.”
I stared at him, startled. “What?—?”
Before I could finish, he grabbed my hand and pulled me abruptly along another path.
