Divinity. Mortality. War.
Silva, Queen of Wolves, Lady of the True Woods, seeks her only friend Etan, who, along with other deities of the Council of Divinity, has gone missing for reasons unknown. Her search traps her on a world where the wolves ha...
Thalaea rested on her back beside the Lorekeeper, who looked on with as much shock as she felt. They reeked of it.
The Tree was gone. A smoking crater rested at the top of the hill now, the star that had fallen smouldering within it.
Part of her brain told her it couldn't be a star — not an actual, literal star — it was more likely a meteorite, but she couldn't listen to logic at the moment.
The True Woods were gone.
She'd felt them. The essence of the True Woods, contained in that one Tree. It had sang to her as true as wolfsong, and she'd known if she touched the bark, she'd be home. She'd found the True Woods back — perhaps left here by the previous Lady of the True Woods of this world, which still made no sense to her whatsoever.
Perhaps sense would have been made had she been able to touch the Tree.
But it was gone. There wasn't even a splinter left. The star had incinerated each inch of the Tree. It was as if it had just blinked out of existence.
Her home was gone. Her only chance to regain her godhood was gone.
A lump choked her throat and she couldn't breathe. Tears stung her eyes. She hadn't realized, until this moment, how much she wanted to be her old self again. Or a new version of her old self — no longer Silva, Lady of the True Woods of Tau Ceti, but Thalaea, Queen of the Deep Furs of Osecou. She could be this planet's wolf-goddess; she could watch over them here, and occasionally travel to Tau Ceti to check on her other cubs. Certainly the wolves here needed more help at the moment.
It had suddenly seemed so real, so possible, and just as quickly that possibility had been ripped away from her. Dangling in front of her like elk meat and then thrown away into the depths of the earth.
Water dropped onto her leg, and she realized it was a tear. She was crying; runnels of salty water ran down her face. She looked at the Lorekeeper and swore she saw the same wetness on his eyes.
It's gone, he whispered, as if he were convinced he were dreaming. We've guarded it for centuries, waiting for Her Return, and it's just...gone. He sounded old, and broken and tired, and Thalaea wrapped her arms around the wolf, hugging him as gently and as fiercely as she could.
She did not say what she was thinking, which was that the wolves had done a fine job guarding the Tree for her return. She'd just been too slow in touching the bark.
She didn't know how long they'd sat there hugging when a new sound barrelled through their awareness. A groan from human lips; human swear words ripping the air.
It was coming from the crater.
Thalaea drew back from the Lorekeeper and sat staring at the crater, unsure if she was frozen in fear or more shock.
Crawling from the wreckage of the True Woods was someone she'd recognize anywhere; that ever-changing face emblazoned on her mind.
It was the Morrigan.
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