Riven sagged into the plush, high-backed chair by her vanity, the fatigue of the evening settling heavily over her limbs. The room was dark, save for a single oil lamp casting a warm glow across her reflection in the mirror, and she stared back at herself, still hardly able to believe the events that had unfolded. The questions, the curious, veiled looks, the priests’ scrutinizing eyes… it had all become an exhausting blur. And yet, she had managed to convince the priests that her sudden disappearance was as much a mystery to her as it was to them, though they remained warily suspicious.

As she rubbed a hand over her temple, she couldn’t help but marvel at the odd feeling of being back in this room, the same place she’d spent countless hours waiting for the story of The Silver Throne to play out around her. She’d been like a spectator to her own life then, merely passing time, hoping to remain unnoticed by the machinations of the powerful.

The faint, familiar scent of lavender hung in the air, reminding her of all those quiet, uneventful nights spent here. Back then, she’d felt safe in her ignorance, drifting through her days with little more purpose than to endure, keep quiet, and survive. But tonight was different. 

Her gaze fell on the small book that lay on the vanity near her, its beautiful exterior cleverly hiding the secrets within. She opened it, leafing through the pages filled with hastily scrawled notes and memories from the life she’d once lived outside the story. Back then, she’d almost viewed the diary as her map, a way to know when and where she needed to be to see the main event unfold in person. Now she saw it as her lifeline, a way to try and change her fate in Calia’s story.

Riven leaned back, turning her gaze toward the open window as the soft, cool breeze drifted in, stirring the edges of the thin curtains. She took a deep breath, letting the crisp night air fill her lungs, grounding her from the tumult of thoughts that churned in her mind. Things were already different, like the appearance of her Aunt Idrina and Kaelen apparently appearing in this story, and then there was the matter of her actually having magic.

“Is it really so simple? I just have to wish for what I want?”

“Within reason. I’m a minor goddess for a reason.”

“That makes sense, I guess–” Riven paused, finally realizing that another voice had answered her question. She froze, every muscle tensing as her gaze shifted to the open window and sitting on the sill was an impossibly white bird, its feathers glimmering faintly as if dusted with stardust. It cocked its head to the side, bright eyes fixing on her with an unsettling intelligence.

“I can only do so much, even if you don’t have to share my magic with anyone else,” the bird continued, and Riven simply stared, her mind grappling with the impossible sight before her. The bird’s voice was soft but clear, feminine with an ethereal undertone that seemed to resonate with the very air around her. It was unlike anything she’d ever heard.

“Are you… Myelia?” Riven asked, her voice barely a whisper.

“More or less,” the bird fluffed her feathers slightly, looking almost pleased. “Us younger sisters don’t get many who remember us, so we take our contracts more seriously than the twins. Although I suppose Nocty is pretty attached to that Calia girl.”

“Wait, when did I…” Riven finally stood, making her way to the window as she struggled to piece together her thoughts. When had she formed a contract with a goddess? She had simply made a wish on a shooting star while she lay dying.

“You didn’t know?” The bird, still perched on the sill, tilted its head, a playful glint in its bright eyes. “You actually noticed one of my stars and, more importantly, believed it could do something.”

Riven just stared at the bird blankly. Wishing on a star was such a childish thing to do, especially in her former life; did it really not exist here? 

“Most people just send their prayers to the twins, so when someone believes in a sister, we become bound to help that person. You noticed my star and believed it could help you,” Myelia continued, seeming almost to preen as Riven finally sat on the couch next to the window. “All you have to do is make a wish when my stars are visible and it will happen.”

“Within reason.”

“I can’t restart time for you again, if that’s what you mean,” Myelia said, a touch of wry humor in her voice as her beak tilted in what seemed like an avian version of a smirk. “Bringing you back once was already bending the rules far enough.”

Riven let the words sink in, a strange mix of emotions churning in her chest. She’d spent so much time fearing her lack of options, but now she felt even more trapped. She had no reason to assume that Myelia was nicer than her older sisters simply because she was lesser known; this was likely as much a blessing as a curse. It was reasonable to assume that Myelia wanted more people to worship her so she could be stronger, and helping Riven, who happened to notice her, was a way to make that happen. After all, simply revealing herself as Riven’s patron, she had caused her name to be whispered all throughout Vassoria’s elite. 

“You are a smart one, aren’t you?” Myelia interrupted Riven’s thoughts, flicking her gaze to Riven with something akin to satisfaction. “Yes, my motives aren’t so entirely selfless. But they’re hardly malicious, either. You want to live and so do I. Goddesses that are entirely forgotten aren’t exactly what you might call alive.”

“I see,” Riven nodded, finally holding her hand out to the goddess. If they were both just trying to survive, then Riven could accept this strange alliance. Myelia’s eyes gleamed, a faint smile almost detectable in the gentle tilt of her beak, and with a graceful hop, she stepped from the windowsill onto Riven’s outstretched hand. “So I can only use your power at night?”

“Or during the day, as long as the sky is clear. If the stars are covered, then I can’t lend you my power,” Myelia clarified and Riven nodded. It’s not like the stars disappeared during the day; the light of the sun merely hid them from view. Riven glanced around her room, frowning as she stood with the goddess.

“I don’t exactly have a cage to put you in, and I doubt you want to be in one,” Riven sighed, glancing back down at the bird. “Do you have to be a bird?”

“You could wish me to be something else,” Myelia replied cheekily, and Riven felt her lips twitch. For such a weak goddess, she certainly had an attitude. Riven closed her eyes, considering what form would best suit the goddess without drawing unnecessary attention. A familiar, perhaps an animal companion was common enough in noble households, and it wouldn’t be too surprising if her patron sent her a familiar as a guide.

“I wish you were a cat,” she said softly, feeling slightly foolish as she spoke. It was… weird to murmur a wish to someone, especially when that someone was a bird perched so casually on her hand, as if this entire situation was perfectly ordinary.

A soft shimmer pulsed through the room, faint and silvery, with tendrils of light curling around Myelia’s form like strands of mist. Riven’s breath caught as the light expanded, wrapping around the bird until its figure blurred and stretched, reshaping before her eyes. The shimmering glow dissipated slowly, revealing a sleek black cat with faint, silvery markings along its fur, like constellations traced across a night sky. The cat blinked up at her, its silver eyes retaining that same keen intelligence, and tilted its head as if to say, satisfied?

“I should try to sleep, tomorrow is bound to be filled with questions,” Riven sighed heavily, gently setting the goddess on the bed as she climbed onto the soft sheet. Soft, not hard and unforgiving as the stone she had slept on for years. Tears began in her eyes before she could stop them, as the realization of her unexpected freedom washed over her. She pressed her hand to her mouth, stifling a choked breath and she quickly scooped the goddess back into her arms, hugging the cat tightly. 

“Thank you, Myelia,” she managed through choked breaths as the cat blinked up at her, still and patient, but a warmth flickered in her star-like eyes.

“You’re welcome, Riven.”