“Stand. We are not here for reverence. We are here for resolution,” Callamus rumbled into the heavy air.
Slowly, shakily, the Elders stood. The blood was still drained from their faces, their eyes wide with shock and horror and just a hint of terror.
Enoch and Satya wore expressions of absolute awe—not a trace of fear to be found.
Mariah bit her cheek to swallow her smile.
“Long ago,” Rulene began, “humanity on this continent existed as one nation. A single people, ruled by eight gods. Ruledby us.” She unclasped her hands, rainbows spilling from her palms. “It was not until the Scourge rebelled and the First War began that the idea of separate nations spread amongst humans.
“And we cannot fault you for that. AfterFlétrir’sbetrayal, we decided that we could no longer rule you in that way. Humans needed one of their own to govern them; worshipping their sovereigns only had the effect of convincing us we were something we were never meant to be.”
Mariah furrowed her brow in confusion, even as Rulene’s yellow stare briefly met hers.
“We chose the human commander, Xara, to be the first true human leader. But after the war, when us gods agreed to disperse and rest our physical bodies within the earth, we neglected to foresee that the lure of our unique power might draw different peoples away from each other. The continent had always had regions; it made sense that humans would want to return to their homes. The concentration of our individual magics in those areas only served to fuel this idea of division, of difference.”
This was not a history Mariah had heard. Based on the blinking and confused faces of the others in the groves, she was not alone.
Was this why each kingdom had their own kind of magic? Why there were no shifters in Onita or fire wielders in Kreah?
Did it mean that with time and the awakening of the gods, the geographic lines between different magics could blur or fade away entirely?
“Perhaps we were shortsighted,” Rulene continued. “But it does not matter now. Humanity invented the idea of nations and boundaries, not the gods. While I choose what is now Kreah as my resting place, and while this land is now seeped in my magic of change, all those who dwell beneath the skies fall under my domain. Kreah may claim me as its own, but I am a god of thiscontinent. As is Callamus and Priam and Krilene and Ydros and Qhohena and Zadione.”
Sharp inhales spiked from the Elders at the mention of the Goddess of Death. Mariah’s mind raced with Rulene’s words.
Goddess of the continent. Not of Kreah.
So, what did that mean for Kol?
What did that mean forMariah, bearing Qhohena and Zadione’s grace?
And why was it now so silent?”
“This history—it is new to us, Holy One,” Odelle said feebly, her face still washed of color.
Rulene’s eyes sharpened. “History is never new. It is simply forgotten.”
Odelle again looked as if she would leave her lunch in the sands, but she bowed her head and stepped back.
“As Rulene makes clear,” Callamus said, lifting his chin. “We exist to protect all peoples and all nations. We will not abandon those in need to face the coming darkness alone.” He turned to Mariah. “This is why we support the Onitan Queen and urge this Council to welcome her people to Kreah. Until the darkness can be burned out, once and for all.”
Silence echoed through the grove. It was an unsteady silence, an uncomfortable and wary hush that prickled at Mariah’s skin like thousands of needles.
The Elders shared a long look. The gods, for their part, continued to look ageless and unbothered, though Mariah swore she caught the faint twinkle of frustration in Rulene’s eyes.
“Very well,” Odelle finally said. “We cannot ignore the pleas of a goddess.” Rulene bristled at the wordpleasand Mariah held back her cringe.
“The Onitans may stay,” Miron continued. “For now. But any further slight on our hospitality will not be tolerated. We expect advanced notice of all major moves in the future, Queen.”
“If it directly affects Kreah,” Mariah said, “you will be informed.”
The six Elders stared her down. Mariah could feel the way they hated this, the way they didn’t want to say yes. They shifted closer to each other, a united force against what they still clearly saw to be a foreign invasion.
While they nodded their heads in acquiescence, Mariah knew this matter was far from over. No matter what their gods said, the Elders would be back.
An ache hummed behind Mariah’s temple. As abruptly as they’d arrived, the Elders stomped off down the path, sands dusting up beneath their feet.
The moment their steps could no longer be heard, Mariah dropped heavily to the ground, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes.
