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Just as it has been for every other naming blessing, the crystals our people hold are raised higher, and the volume increases. The overwhelming feeling is almost painful, but I wouldn’t change anything.
“I bless you in the name of our gods, Grutabela, Endu, and Ashra,” Estela intones, adding in her own goddess.
A tear slides down my cheek.
“Be strong, little one. Grow with the stone.” Another tear. “May your eyes one day see Vidalena.”
And then we all are swallowed by the light.
For underground dwellers, it feels… right. It's like this was always meant to come to pass.
When I look at the sky, I thank any god who will listen.
The end…for now.
