Chapter 2 – Awakening

Chapter 2 – Awakening

Surrounded by the love of her siblings, Liria slept, floating in an infinitely gentle warmth.

Consciousness came suddenly, unwelcome and unwanted.

Along with a nostalgically sweet fragrance, and the velvet caress of petals against her skin—scent and touch felt for the first time in ten millennia—she heard an insistent voice demanding that she wake up.

Liria ignored it, trying to sink back into sleep. It was still far too early. She did not ask for much, really. Just another three centuries or so, and she would be ready. Very reasonable.

Wake up, you unworthy pretender. The voice was cold now, heavy with contempt. Liria realized with a start that the voice was her own. Are you going to let them all die? Again?

Memories came flooding in.

Liria’s eyes snapped open, wet with tears.

She lay curled in the heart of her flower, the First Bloom’s petals enveloping her in a gentle protective embrace. Its dreamy, soothing scent urged her back toward sleep. It was still far too early for her to wake.

Instead, Liria pushed, trying to force the petals open. She refused to let her beautiful flower burn.

Again.

But waking too early had cost her dearly. She was far too weak, and the First Bloom’s petals remained stubbornly closed.

Liria pushed harder, allowing urgency and desperation to bleed into her emotions.

Please.

Slowly, reluctantly, her flower complied. The outer petals parted, while the innermost wrapped around her, shimmering with light—white-golden petals transforming into white-golden robes.

Through the mental link they shared, she felt her brothers’ and sisters’ startled surprise and smiled sadly. She really was a useless little sister, always causing her siblings to worry.

For a heartbeat, the weight of memory threatened to crush her.

Then Liria emerged into a brilliantly shining world, so beautiful it brought fresh tears to her eyes.

Above her, the starry sky stretched on forever. Around her, motes of golden light drifted like countless fireflies in the dark—the World Tree scattering blessings across the world in celebration of her birth.

The continent of Eiravel spread out beneath her in a vivid tapestry of color: verdant meadows, snow-capped peaks, serene mountain lakes reflecting the deep blue sky, mystical forests rich with ancient life.

So vibrant. So full of hope.

So different from the haunted wastelands she had left behind.

Her breath caught in her throat. Breathing was difficult, and the sound of her own heartbeat sounded too loud in her ears. Her chest hurt.

Stop it. Compose yourself. This is not the time.

Then they arrived, her beloved siblings. Space itself trembled, parting before the might of Aethon Yggdris’s sword. Darkness and spell light gathered, forming warp gates bridging impossible distances. One fleeting moment of desperation, and her brothers and sisters had dropped everything to rush to her side.

Vaelir, swift and silent as a shadow, was the first to reach her, gently wiping away her tears.

“Who made you cry?” he asked, soft voice promising immediate retribution.

Her other siblings joined him a beat later, crowding around her. These ancient guardians of humanity looked almost… panicked.

This was their first face-to-face meeting in two lifetimes. She had known them for ten thousand years.

Her connection to them had shaped her even as she slept—memories of love and sacrifice, shared joys and sorrows lingering in her mind like half-remembered dreams.

Liria tried in vain to maintain her composure. Her siblings had waited ten thousand years for the Incarnation of the Goddess, not a sobbing mess. But her traitorous eyes refused to listen.

She’d known their hearts, their hopes, their fears. But she’d never heard Aethon’s deep and resonant voice, never seen the spell runes spinning in Ilyrien’s silver eyes. The gap between knowing and experiencing threatened to undo her.

Liria found herself laughing and crying disgracefully. A blush slowly spread across her face.

Some first impression I’m making.

Even her mouth betrayed her, the impulsive words coming out before she could stop them.

“I’m so glad…” she said in between hiccups. “I’m so glad I finally get to meet you all.”

And there went my carefully prepared speech. Just kill me now.

Thalanor, serene and quiet as the deep forests, awkwardly ruffled her hair.

Kaerthis nervously adjusted her glasses, smiling shyly. Alchemical sigils swirled around her hand like tattoos of light.

Seralyth was the one who started the group hug, enveloping Liria in a motherly embrace while gushing: “Forgive me Goddess, but how can she be so cute!”

Her embarrassment vanished like a lie before their warm acceptance, and Liria finally allowed herself to revel in her impossible triumph.

I did it! I rewound time. I can’t believe I really did it!

Those erased three hundred years had been one long nightmare. The emotions she felt through their shared connection had slowly shifted from worry to desperation, while Liria herself could do nothing. No matter how hard she tried, she could not wake up from her thousand year slumber.

One by one, as the useless Liria slept, the voices of her siblings went quiet, their last thoughts worrying for her safety.

When she finally emerged into a ruined world, Liria was alone.

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Feeling them now, alive and whole and here, was almost too much to bear.

Never again.

Then it hit her, the cost of this victory.

Do I even have the right to be this happy?

She remembered her companions on the eve of the final battle. One lone voice of dissent, quickly shushed by others. Irix Vanthe’s resentful glare still burned in her mind, but that was nothing compared to the burden of everyone else’s unwavering faith.

They gave her all their love and devotion. She rewarded them by invalidating their courage and sacrifice. History will never remember them.

I can’t believe I really did it.

Her sobs were no longer joyful.

Hours later, Liria was meditating by her flower, wrestling with indecision. Even now, her siblings were only a thought away.