The freshness of spring had given way to the stillness of summer. The heat in the afternoons was unrelenting but in the evenings the temperature would suddenly drop due to the cool winds blowing from the peaks of the Urumoi mountains. 

Two days ago, Abbess Anandil Homa, Zov’ha, and Subeya, along with a coterie of monks, had departed from Neva’ar Drift at dawn. Hovercrafts had been sent from Neva to carry them to the foothills of Urumoi. The first step of the plan was simple — the monks and the Abbess would set up scouting stations at abandoned outposts that were dotted around the mountains, to track the movement of the Ghost, a rogue Autoichorium sentinel from the days before the Divine Purge. 

While the investigation went on in full swing, Zov’ha and Subeya took hoverbikes from one of the Neva’ar outposts and headed towards the cave where Efiros had been left to hibernate almost three months ago. Swarms of insects plagued the woods — splatting against their helmets’ visors as they zipped past fruit-laden trees and overgrown underbrush. 

Admiring Zov’ha’s natural compass and sense of navigation in the wilderness, Subeya followed closely so as to not be left behind; she would surely have been lost on her own. Bypassing the narrow glen that led to Neva’ar’s Dagger, the inverted obelisk that served as a passageway to the Astraleid stronghold, they confronted a steep climb to arrive at a sequestered mesa.  

The journey ahead would be on foot — an hour’s hike would bring them to the cave. But as dusk’s embrace was almost upon them, they would have to wait till morning. Taking initiative to set up camp, Subeya persuaded Zov’ha to take some rest. 

‘I don’t need rest,’ Zov’ha mumbled, her breathing rapid.  

Though Zov’ha had longed to be back in the wilds, stepping out of Neva’ar Drift had brought back her sickness tenfold. But somehow her agony seemed diminished. Whether she had become numb to the pain, or it was her Autoichorium suit anaesthetising her, she did not know. Her symptoms still seemed to be affected by her surroundings — she bled and hurled dirt if she walked on soil; twisted horns and fangs erupted if she sat upon a rock; a shadowy mist would materialise around her if she were near water. And then hysteria would follow. Sometimes she would see only darkness even in broad daylight. At other times she would sit huddled in a corner for hours, dazed in a trance. 

‘I’m worried about you,’ Subeya said softly.

‘I know…’ Zov’ha winced, feeling the familiar sensation at the back of her jaws — it wouldn’t be long before stony fangs would make their appearance, a premonition to another hysterical episode that would probably last all night long. ‘But… I needed to come here… to see Efy! I miss him!’

Subeya busied herself with setting up camp. Kneeling on the rocky ground she dug out supplies for the night, which included bedrolls, fire-lighters, and water cans. ‘Alright,’ she said at last. ‘There’s a pool across the rocks over there if you want to go wash up. Leave everything else to me.’ 

Zov’ha blushed but did not respond. She had never had anyone take care of her before. If she had been well she would not have welcomed it. But in her state, she felt helpless. 

Kneeling by the pool, which had formed in a shallow basin in the rock, she commanded her Autoichorium suit, in Aewylen, to expose her forearms. She dipped her hands into the greenish still water, splashing some on her face to wash off the grime. Some of the water lingered in the air around her, clouding her vision. She waved it away and sighed. 

Her reflection in the pool was clear against the violet sky. Pushing the side of her upper lip with her index finger she examined herself — the deepening of her gums, the sharpness of her teeth — she looked hideous!

‘Curse you!’ she snarled, slapping the surface of water where her face had been. She did not know how much longer she could endure all of this. Asenya, Orbita Cygnus, Kiva — the solution to her ailments seemed unachievable. 

Dinner was eaten silently — salted meat and dry bread that they had packed from one of the outposts. Exhausted from the journey, and the unceasing assault of mosquitoes, Zov’ha lay on her side, the warmth of the bonfire comforting her back. Rubbing her jaws that felt heavy, all she could do now was sleep, even though she knew she would spend hours inadvertently lingering on the precipice of wakefulness.   

Subeya stayed up. Seated on a log she hummed a doleful tune, chiselling away at a piece of wood with her hunting knife. She abruptly dropped her crooning and looked towards Zov’ha when she heard sniffing. 

‘Are you crying?’ Subeya asked, putting down her wood and knife. 

Zov’ha’s response was a sorrowful, unconvincing, ‘no’. Walking over to where she was curled up, Subeya squatted on the grass, but refrained from saying anything. Zov’ha’s sniffs turned to sobbing spasms, manifesting as hiccups as she tried to grasp for air — it was like she was trying to hold back her woeful outburst.  

She’s so small, Subeya thought, even though Zov’ha was taller than the other humans. Being nine-foot tall herself, Subeya saw everyone as puny and weak. Except Zov’ha — the half-Astraleid was strong, probably stronger than her — not just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well. If Subeya had been through what Zov’ha had, she wouldn’t have been able to handle it. But at times like this, when she saw Zov’ha at her worst, she felt like the ‘goddess’ was just an innocent, little girl who was caught up in a bad, bad world and who needed care and love.  

When Zov’ha felt she could breathe normally again she turned to face Subeya and said between sniffs, ‘I don’t think I can carry on like this.’ 

‘Why not?’ 

Zov’ha took her time to reply and Subeya did not push her. ‘I… don’t have a purpose…’

‘Mmm,’ Subeya knew if she responded now, Zov’ha would stay quiet. So she said nothing more but she reached for Zov’ha’s hand and took it.

‘I failed my people…’ Zovha whispered, stifling another bout of tears. ‘...the people of Asenya. The records say that I was banished… that I was drugged to make sure I forget everything. And now I’m wandering aimlessly picking up the pieces of my past. I keep hearing Yar’cax’s voice telling me that the people need me… but how can I help when I know nothing about myself?

‘All this while I believed it was only Asenya’s citizens that needed saving… but now there’s this whole Order of Saint Awynyth that thinks that I’m some kind of god! I’m afraid of failing them like I failed Asenyans. It’s a burden I cannot carry. It’s a burden I cannot share. 

‘And this pain! I did not ask for this! I don’t even know what this is! No one does! Do I have to suffer this pain all my life? Before I came to Neva these manifestations would only show when I was in danger. It was a reaction to circumstance. But now, it is out of control. Do you know what it is like to always be on edge? I don’t want this, Subeya, I’m not ready for it! With the threat from the West there seems like no end to my torment.’ 

The wilderness had abated its incessant chitter, as if eavesdropping on their conversation. There was no wind and the stillness was deafening — only the crackling of the embers from the fire eased the discomfiture.  

‘I’m twenty-seven years old,’ Zov’ha continued, feeling Subeya gently caress the fur on the back of her hand. ‘...At least according to the records. I’m not the strong girl I used to be when I was Captain of the Duskwatch. And half my life has been wiped out from my memory! What did I do for twenty-seven years? How did I live it? What did I achieve? What were my happiest moments and what were my weakest? I don’t know.  

‘In fragments of my memories, I remember that life seemed harsh in Asenya, but now… it’s worse! And I can see that I’m not the only one suffering. There’s hardship all around me everywhere I go. No one is happy! No place is prosperous! People aren’t living… They are just surviving. And I wonder… am I the only one who can fix this? Do I stand alone? Is doing something about it even worth it?’ 

Feeling her throat dry up, Zov’ha reached for water, which she quaffed avariciously. The melody of the grasshoppers had returned, washing away the stillness like the falling of a fresh downpour of rain. 

‘Who’s Yar’cax?’ Subeya asked. Not only was Subeya curious about this mysterious boy, but she also wanted to keep the conversation going. 

‘He was my boyfriend… I think. The worst part is… I don’t remember much about him. Not his touch, nor his smell… not even his face. He’s just a shadow of a memory. I’m not even sure if he’s still alive.’ 

‘That’s morbid thinking!’ Subeya waved. ‘Do you think you will find him when we go to Asenya?’ 

‘We?’ Zov’ha pulled herself up. Supported by her right elbow she turned to look at Subeya, her gaze intense. ‘You mean to come with me?’ 

‘Of course!’ Subeya smiled as their eyes met. ‘There’s nothing for me in Kalgez. I’m outlawed! And I’m sure I don’t want to join the Order. So… I was hoping I’d hang out with you.’ 

The corners of Zov’ha’s lips rose almost imperceptibly, her incipient stone fangs accentuating her wry smile. Laying down again, she sighed, gazing at the stars in the purple moonlit sky. Feeling a little hopeful she continued, ‘I don’t want to be a ‘goddess’. Why do people need an idol? Why can’t they govern themselves the way Astraleids did?’ 

‘Because most humans aren’t strong enough to go through life without that kind of reverence,’ Subeya replied immediately. ‘When they hear stories of heroes and deities going through the same bullshit they are going through, and achieving their goals despite the hurdles, whether through supernatural means or just plain determination, I guess it’s just… encouraging. They need your light to make them fear less. It makes their life a little easier.’  

‘Easier? But it’s never easy, is it? It’s just crazy to believe that I’m some supernatural being,’ Zov’ha sighed. ‘I can’t change the weather! So why do people expect so much from me?’

‘Who “people”?’ Subeya barked. 

‘Anandil Homa!’

‘Honestly, you can tell Anandil Homa to fuck off!’ Subeya bellowed impiously. Zov’ha frowned, looking at her sideways, astonished by the vituperative response. ‘If the Order isn’t working out for you, you can just walk out! You don’t owe your allegiance to anyone. Going through life’s hardships are lessons to learn from… to become a better version of yourself. And it’s your decision what you make out of it. You cannot please everyone… and you shouldn’t expect yourself to either! You said it yourself, you can’t help others unless you truly know who you are.’ 

Subeya's words felt like ice upon her heart. Lessons? Her actions and defeats were no mere lessons, they were devastating repercussions. Still, she knew that Subeya was right. The consequences of her actions in the past were not hers alone to bear. But it was hard to ignore the guilt of being solely responsible after all the faith that Asenya had in her.    

‘There’s one thing that was in my control though,’ Zov’ha said, worryingly. ‘I could have helped save Aeroz from the raiders. I feel bad for leaving Marana, Segran and Sinovan, and running away like a foolish child! I feel like I’ve always been running away from my problems rather than facing them head on. It truly never gets easier.’ 

‘No, it does not,’ Subeya said, throwing a piece of dry wood into the dying fire. ‘But you get stronger.’  

It wasn’t until dawn when they were both awoken by a distant roar. Subeya was up first, standing upright peering into the forest below. Their little bonfire had reduced to embers, which sputtered as a cool breeze showered dew over mud and rock.   

‘What?’ Zov’ha mumbled, head heavy with interrupted sleep. She mechanically reached out to feel her teeth, which were normal again. ‘What is it?’ 

‘Could just be a wild beast, but I wanted to be sure,’ Subeya whispered, restlessly wrapping herself with the bed roll that had been too small for her. ‘I’ll stand watch. If nothing stirs I’ll go get more wood. Get some more sleep.’  

Zov’ha curled into her bed roll but as soon as she lay her head on the soft leather the rumbling roar resounded again, sending shivers through the ground. Zov’ha jumped up and spun around, facing east. 

Sharp claws spontaneously tore through her skin, and she spat blood as her teeth turned to sharp fangs. Wheezing wildly from the abrupt transformation she was poised for battle, right leg in front, clawed arms at the ready. The unmistakable sound of crashing wood signified that something large or something fast was headed their way. 

‘Is that your bear?’ Subeya demanded, standing in front of Zov’ha as if covering her. 

‘He can’t move that fast, unless he’s grown very large,’ Zov’ha heard herself say in a voice that was too gruff to be her own. 

They could see the rustling of the treetops at a distance. ‘The Ghost then?’ Subeya howled. 

Zov’ha felt her will over her own body start to fade. Her powers were taking over her completely. ‘Subeya… I can’t focus…’