The soft glow of lichens illuminated the chamber of the Timeless One. Faceted sunstones brightened as a silent figure made its way down the stairs. Green-gold eyes narrowed with irritation at the torch-like fixtures as they glowed brighter with her presence.

A splash announced the arrival of the goddess’s handmaiden. “Welcome, Dusvet Guardian Storm il’Thandar,” Selina greeted. She sat on the edge of the pool across from the statue of the goddess behind her. A small smile touched her normally impassive countenance at Storm’s irritation. “Your skills of stealth are renown, but you cannot conceal your very life force from the sunstones and moonstones.”

“All things can be concealed,” the slight woman stated in flat tones. She moved her glare away from the glowing rocks to the mermaid, less irritation in her expression. “I wish to speak with the Timeless One. Please.”

“I have already told Her you were approaching. She expected you would find your way here before the others.” She gestured to the place at her side. “She suspects it is a result of being so close to Desantiva and His divine servants from so young an age.”

“Not because I was once one myself?”

Selina tilted her head at the bitterness in the woman’s voice. “You are well aware why that has no impact. You are no longer Zhekali. Your instincts are inherent of this life you were born into. Being raised by divine servants and personally protected by a god benefited you in many ways.”

“Benefited.” Storm knelt on the colorful woven rug at the edge of the dark pool, lowering her eyes and offering ritualistic gestures of respect to the Timeless One’s statue. When she looked up, anger flashed in her gaze. “I love my divine father, but the lives of my birth tribe were too great a sacrifice for the blessing of His direct protection.”

“Yes,” Selina agreed, looking toward the smooth surface of the pool. “The cost of your tribe’s loss was far too much. If She had seen the shadows that loomed over them, She would have done something much sooner to prevent the catastrophe that claimed them. Regardless of the sovereignty the younger gods claim over Their territories.”

“She would have?” Storm’s simmering anger faltered in surprise. “But even She is bound by divine law.”

“Yes, I would have.” The voice of the goddess drew both Selina and Storm’s attentions. No longer lifeless, the ‘statue’ regarded the pair. The handmaiden nodded to her mistress’ gesture of dismissal and dove into the pool, leaving the two alone.

“Why?” Storm demanded. “Innumerable tribes have vanished from the world. No matter how many spring anew, their numbers have slowly eroded. But you would have done something to save my tribe?” She scowled. “Why would the na’Zhekali have been any more important than any other?”

“For numerous reasons difficult to explain to you at present. However, I can tell you that your tribe’s existence was a stabilizing influence for Desantiva, as your lifemate’s family was within Forenta. They were the only reason we permitted Knowledge and Heart’s withdrawal from the world. To give Them both time to heal from the devastation the Great War and Second Sundering caused. And to allow Vodanya and Sevmana to mature into Their own. It was fortunate you and your grandfather were spared from that tragedy, to be the na’Zhekali presence your people needed.”

“Do not speak of me so nobly, Mistress.” Storm closed her eyes, looking away. “Thandar once told me he barely reached me in time. Sometimes I wondered if they had let my family die.” The goddess moved from her perch to the place Selina had vacated. She touched Storm’s chin lightly until she met Her gaze. “I should not think so poorly of Father, or the Totani, but—”

“You need not apologize to anyone for your doubts. It is natural after everything you endured. We gods can seem cruel to mortals because We do not stop all things that are hurtful from happening. But We neither allow nor encourage tragedies such as you and your lifemate had survived. Creating vast instability to cure instability rarely works as hoped.”

Incredulousness filled Storm’s expression. “Vast? The Great War casualties were vast. A single tribe, even a single northern city, is small in comparison to that catastrophe.” She frowned. “Many tribes have disappeared within Desantiva since then. Were their losses distressing to You as well? Or do You see some as lesser than others?”

“Aelia…”

“No! I would know the thoughts of the ancient trinity. Do You hold bias in Your heart to choose who earns divine aid and who suffers alone? All life is sacred and should be taken only when necessary. The na’Zhekali never held themselves above any other!”

The Timeless One smiled. “I have missed your bold challenges. Your concern for others’ welfare has always dominated your focus, even at your own expense. Often at your own expense. A trait that has carried through every lifetime you have endured.” Storm flushed, averting her eyes.

The goddess’ smile faded. “To answer your question, no. I take no pleasure when mortals pass from the world. Even the most cruel or vile is worthy of grief for having squandered the time of their short lifetimes with such darkness dominating their souls.

“But deaths caused by wars, diseases, disasters, accidents or the failing of the mortal vessel…these things are considered natural. While the future is never fixed, I can see glimpses of these demises.” Storm looked up as She continued. “But the loss of your birth tribe, of your lifemate’s family, and those who lived in the region they called home within Forenta…those were not foreseen. Looking to the past now, I still cannot see what killed them. Something that hides itself from divine vision.”

“A paradox, Timeless One?” Storm frowned, putting a hand to her temple to rub absently. “Could You not see because my birth tribe shared Zhekali’s blood? I…she was a paradox, I remember. Father and the others always had difficulty locating me, and I rarely made it easy for them. I did not know who I had been. I had no idea what I had been. If I…if Zhekali bequeathed her nature, was that to blame?” She closed her eyes, clenching her fists. “Were their deaths Zhekali’s fault?”

“No, child.” The goddess caressed Storm’s cheek with maternal affection, hushing her. “While they were challenging for the divine to see, they were not the utter paradox that their patron was. That you are.”

“I am not Zhekali,” She whispered. “She is dead.”

“You are not her, but you are still a paradox.” The Timeless One tilted her head, studying the copper-skinned woman. “What troubles you, my Dusvet warrior?”

Storm did not speak immediately, but when she did, emotion made speech difficult. “Zhekali and Avarian swore an oath to You for Your aid to save his soul. I have never regretted that oath, no matter the curse that tormented us for two thousand years. But we have fulfilled Your requirement now.”

“You have, yes. You regret the loss of your torment?”

“No. Keeping our promise to You spared Ash from following me into death. It is just…” Tears streaked down Storm’s cheeks. “Something is wrong with my bond to Thandar. I think it is broken. I have been unable to reach him or Father since my soul was mended. And so many of Zhekali’s memories demand to be remembered. But of all things, it is the loss that I remember most keenly. The years she should have been able to share with Avarian as a mortal before she had to return to her life as Totani. To share with their children.”

“And you do not wish to be immortal again.”

“I do not! Divine law demands immortals stay distant from mortals, not to interfere in their new lives when reborn. Even more so if one had been close to them. I lost my mortal family. So many Swordanzen brothers and sisters.” Her anguish trembled through her. “I only just found a family again. Must I lose them so soon?”

“Zhekali…Aelia,” the goddess soothed, drawing the young woman into a comforting embrace and stroking her hair as a mother would a child. “You have not lost Thandar. The Githalin bond is a weaving of souls. When Avarian…Ash…mended your soul, it changed its form, which has impaired that tie you share. Unfortunately, I cannot do anything without him present as well.”

“But I have tried summoning him. Nothing has happened! It echoes like an empty cave.”

“Then you need to go to him.” A maternal smile softened her visage. “When you are together again, your connection can be mended. As for your oath to Me, Zhekali’s divine duties were not a specific part of it. The oath was only to redress the balance that sharing so much of your soul with another threatened. Had the oath been fulfilled while Zhekali still lived, yes. She would have had to return to her life as a Totani and obey the edicts that would have separated her from the mortal family she had.

“But she passed from this world as a mortal and had been reborn a mortal.” She met the distraught young woman’s gaze. “Granted, when divine servants lose their physical shells, they are born mortal until they awaken when they mature into adults and all their memories return. But you have always been unique.”

“I do not have to be her again?” she whispered.

“Have to? No. It is your choice. It always has been. It always will be. I promise you.” The Timeless One released Storm, her expression chagrined. “I will not lie to you. We of the ancient trinity would be pleased to have Zhekali returned to Us. She filled a void in the grand scheme of Our creation, kept Us from the excesses that upended the world once before. Especially Order and Chaos.”

“It has been so long. They still argue?”

Time smiled faintly. “They do.”

Storm exhaled. “Can you not create—“

“No, dear one.” The goddess caressed her cheek. “We cannot simply make another to replace her as We had not created her to fill the niche she had. The world has become too complex, and We cannot create the empathy and understanding she possessed.”

“But becoming immortal is my choice?”

“Yes. It must be your decision what your life’s journey will be. There is danger in forcing anyone onto a path they are unwilling to walk. A taint that would poison their purpose.”

Storm got to her feet, wiped the tears from her face, and offered a respectful bow. “Thank you. I feared I would be forced to make a choice that would have left me an eternity of despair. It has been more than a day since I told my tribe I was going to commune with Thandar. I must return before they seek me out.”

The goddess watched Storm depart, expression turning sad. Selina emerged from the water to sit by the Timeless One once the warrior was long gone. “You are troubled, Mistress. Is all not well with Zhekali’s descendant?”

“No, it is not,” Time said with great sadness. “Her heart is eased knowing none of Us gods intend to force her to leave her mortal family. At peace for the moment. But she did not speak to me about how her impaired bond to Thandar is distressing her. Whether out of shame or a belief she can only ask Me about temporal matters, I am uncertain. I worry what the torment she tries to hide will drive her to do.”