Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75457 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75457 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
She smiles—it’s brief and serene. “I hope that means you’re learning that you can use your powers for things that bring you joy.”
I’m so stunned by this statement, my jaw drops. How did she even know I was struggling with trying to find my foothold?
As if she could read my mind—which she can of mere mortals but not gods—she says, “I’m the god of Humanity. I know more than anyone—even better than yourself—what you’re going through. You were a human far longer than you’ve been a god.”
A million questions pop into my head. I move to speak but there are too many curiosities vying for attention, so my mouth snaps shut again.
She patiently waits me out and I order the racing thoughts to quell. I take in a breath and make a statement, not a question. “I don’t know how to acclimate. I don’t know who I am.”
Veda tips her head back and laughs. “My sweet sister… you are a human turned immortal god. You are unique and there is no one to tell you how to navigate this new life. So I’m just going to tell you to be you.”
“That’s all well and good but it’s painful… this new life. It hurts to see suffering I can’t help, and some of the decisions we have to make as gods are abhorrent to me. What we decided to do to Calandria… the way Cato destroyed it… I don’t want to be a part of that.”
“So then don’t vote for it if you feel that strongly,” she says, as if that’s the simplest answer in the world.
“But can I do that?” I’m angry that she thinks I should be clear on the rules. “I’ve been thrown into a new life with no guidance. I’ve been handed infinite power, and I could use it for something good, but I don’t know if I’m allowed. And how can I vote against the four of you when I don’t even understand the way the universe works? I could prevent you from doing something that could be calamitous if it doesn’t occur, then that would be on my conscience. And for that matter, am I supposed to have a conscience?
“The four of you are so cold and aloof sometimes. You watch entire civilizations destroyed without batting an eye. When does that happen to me? How many years, centuries, millennia, before I lose my humanity so that I can be comfortable with those decisions? And once I lose the part of me that makes me human, will I be able to love my sister? I struggle right now with my ability to love her by virtue of my upbringing. Will I become so callous that I’ll no longer want to help dying children? Will I stand by and watch them suffer because that’s the ‘natural order of things’?
“And most importantly… the thing that bothers me the most is that I feel it’s probably best for me to cut off personal ties, because having love and care for others makes me weak. In order to be strong to do my job as a god I have to excise those things that enervate me.”
I suck in a gasping breath, having vomited my words without any pause.
Veda’s gaze remains impassive which I take to mean unmoved. Will I be like that one day? Should I be like that now and save myself a world of hurt by wanting to feel things?
But to my surprise, Veda puts her hands on my shoulders and steps in close. She presses her lips to my cheek and when she pulls back, I see understanding on her countenance. “Sister… you have much to figure out and I don’t have the answers for you. I can only tell you, once again, to be you. You are one of a kind, and maybe what this Council needs is a bit of human soul in the mix. Maybe we’re the ones who need to learn something. Regardless, you don’t have to decide your entire life or existence today. You can still fumble along and learn as you go. I promise, at the least, I’ll be patient with you. Okay?”
Not exactly the easy answer I want, but it offers some validation. I nod.
“Now,” Veda says as she hooks an elbow with mine and we stroll along. The world goes hazy for a minute, swirls, and then when it comes back into focus, we’re walking through sweet green grass toward the Council’s gazebo. “Last thing we need to discuss… Maddox.”
I jerk away from her, face flaming. “What about Maddox?”
Veda’s chin pulls in, and she gives me a censuring look. “I know what you do with that demigod, so don’t try to deny it.”
I keep my mouth firmly shut because it’s no one’s business.
Veda shakes her head with amusement. “If you think you’re the first god to dally with a demigod, you’re sadly mistaken.”