Chapter 24 – Status Update

Chapter 24 – Status Update

“I plan to travel the world with Seris for a while,” Liria said.

She spoke lightly, as though she were announcing nothing more significant than a change in the afternoon weather, but every set of eyes at the table still turned toward her.

Sunlight poured through the high arched windows of the Aerie and painted the dining hall in soft gold. The pale wood of the long table gleamed beneath silver trays and fine porcelain. Crystal goblets beaded with chilled pear nectar. Platters of river trout carpaccio shimmered beneath green citrus and tiny herb blossoms. Roast quail glazed in white peach and rosemary rested atop saffron barley and buttered spring vegetables, filling the air with a warm, fragrant richness.

Liria cut a thin slice of quail and held it up to the adorable little Saintess sitting in her lap. Seris opened her mouth at once.

“Ah.”

Liria fed her, and Seris’s small face lit with immediate delight.

“This poor child has already experienced too much pain and suffering,” Liria continued, lifting a ribbon of trout and feeding that to her next. “So now, I want to show her all the beauty and wonder that the world has to offer. I want Seris to genuinely love this world before she takes on her duties as Saintess.”

Seris accepted the food with solemn concentration, then leaned back against Liria’s chest with obvious contentment.

“That’s all well and good,” Ilyrien said in a slightly exasperated voice, “but don’t you think you’re spoiling the child a little too much? She’s refused to leave your side ever since you woke up.”

“But I’ve waited for so long for Big Sis to wake up!” Seris retorted indignantly, twisting around in Liria’s lap to glare at Ilyrien. “And Seris has worked so hard. Seris deserves this!”

“Your cute act does not work on me, child,” Ilyrien replied primly, lifting her teacup with perfect poise.

The little Saintess stared back with wounded blue eyes, and Ilyrien awkwardly averted her gaze. A quiet, smug little hmph escaped from Seris where she sat in Liria’s lap.

One month.

One single month had been enough for Seris to realize exactly how devastatingly cute she was. Liria pinched her cheek.

“Mmff!”

“That’s not nice, Seris,” Liria chided her. Her little sister only giggled, soft and bright, her shoulders shaking against Liria’s chest.

Was she spoiling her?

Possibly.

Almost certainly.

Liria considered this for the span of half a heartbeat, then promptly fed Seris another bite of quail.

“You raise a fair point, sister,” she said to Ilyrien with all the seriousness she could muster while her little sister leaned against her like a pampered kitten. “That is another reason I’m doing this. I hope to introduce Seris to friends close to her own age through our travels.”

Seris recoiled as though personally betrayed. “But I don’t need friends!” she declared fiercely. “I only want Big Sis!”

Liria stared down at her. Seris stared stubbornly back. Then, after a moment, the child’s shoulders drooped ever so slightly.

“…and maybe Aethon, Seralyth, Thalanor, Vaelir, Ilyrien, and Kaerthis too,” she admitted in a much smaller voice.

Kaerthis, who had just lifted a spoonful of velouté to her mouth, froze for a beat, looking unexpectedly touched.

Liria tried to keep her expression stern. “No. Your world cannot consist of only us, Seris.”

She set down her utensils and gently turned the little girl around in her lap so they were facing each other properly. Up close, Seris’s pale golden hair had begun to slip loose around her cheeks, and there was still the faintest sheen of citrus oil at the corner of her mouth. Liria brushed it away with her thumb before Seris could notice.

“Promise me that you’ll at least try to make some friends,” she said quietly. “Can you do that, for me?”

Seris’s face scrunched with deep reluctance. Her little hands came up to clutch at the front of Liria’s dress, bunching the fine fabric.

“If you say so, Big Sis,” she mumbled.

“Look at me and say it.”

Seris huffed, then lifted her chin and met Liria’s gaze with all the seriousness of someone swearing an ancient oath.

“I promise.”

Liria smiled and kissed her forehead. “There. Was that so difficult?”

“Yes,” Seris muttered.

A soft snort came from somewhere down the table. Vaelir had the decency to look only mildly guilty.

“Elysium is a wonderful place to visit this time of year,” he said, taking a leisurely sip from his goblet. Then, his lips curved. “Still, the Festival of Flowers celebrating the Goddess of Life, hm? Why, little sister, I had no idea you were so vain.”

“Seris chose the place! It wasn’t me!” The words flew out of Liria’s mouth before she could stop them.

Then she froze. Oh. Oh no. A tiny hand tugged at her sleeve. Liria looked down.

Seris was staring up at her with anxious blue eyes. “Big Sis?” she asked in a soft, quavering voice. “Did I do something wrong?”

Liria felt her heart catch. She opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. And from somewhere across the table came the faint, strangled sound of laughter being violently suppressed. She ignored it.

“No, Seris,” she said at last, forcing a strained smile. “You did nothing wrong. Vaelir was just being an idiot.”

She gave her little sister a reassuring pat on the head and the child relaxed, leaning into her touch. Liria let out a quiet breath, then lifted her gaze to Vaelir.

“While we’re on the topic,” she gave Vaelir a pointed look, “what exactly happened while I was asleep? Why is so much faith that should be directed toward the Goddess of Life flowing toward me?”

She could feel it even now.

It was like standing beneath a vast and invisible waterfall. Countless threads of reverence, prayer, longing, gratitude, and desperate hope drifted toward her from every corner of the world, settling into her soul with a warmth that was almost dizzying.

It had been shocking enough to wake and discover herself at level 507 after what had felt, to her, like a brief and deeply inconvenient nap.

She frowned. It was 508 now. She had gone up another level in the middle of lunch.

Liria stared at her wine as though it might somehow be responsible.

Why, exactly, had she needed to sleep for three hundred years in that other timeline if getting to level five hundred was apparently this easy? What had her past self even been doing?

“Isn’t it obvious, little sister?” Vaelir asked, far too composed for someone enjoying himself this much. He waved one lazy hand through the air. “The Goddess of Life has returned in mortal form. For Her first divine act, She erased the Ashen Wastes that had plagued this world for a hundred years and restored the lost principality of Brighthold. For Her second divine act, She found the Church of Light’s lost Saintess, purged her of the dead god’s corruption, and drove off its remnant soul.”

A faint curve touched his mouth. “The scriptures have already been revised. The Goddess’s name has been revealed as Liria. The entire world knows.”

Vaelir took another unhurried sip from his goblet. “Consider all you’ve done. What, exactly, did you expect, little sister?”

“All right,” Liria conceded, trying to gather her thoughts. “Perhaps I was a little… indiscreet.”

“A little?” Kaerthis muttered under her breath. Liria ignored her.

“But what happens when the real Goddess returns?” she pressed. “Would she not be furious? The Goddesses fell silent, yes, but their deaths have never been confirmed.”

“You do not need to worry about that, Liria,” Aethon said.

He had been quiet for most of the meal, but when he finally spoke, the table seemed to settle around his voice. He had always possessed that sort of calm. Warm, steady, impossible to rush.

Liria looked at him immediately. “But why?”

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“Because the Goddess of Life is not the Goddess of Life,” Aethon replied.

Liria stared at him. “I do hope you realize how absurd that sounded.”

Vaelir made a choking noise into his cup. Aethon, to his credit, did not even blink.

“Our world is young,” he patiently continued. “One of many in a vast cosmos. Life existed long before this world did, and it will continue to exist long after it ends. Lady Liria is not some eternal, all-encompassing embodiment of the concept itself.”

He rested one hand against the table.

“She is a powerful being. A very powerful one. She planted the World Tree. She seeded a barren world with life. She shaped and guided civilization. But she is still a person.”

He paused.

“She is Liria. Just Liria. And definitely not a Goddess. Those were her own words. She never wanted to be worshipped.”

“What’s the difference?” Liria complained. “That’s just splitting hairs!”

Every single person at the table looked at her. Even Seris. Especially Seris, actually.

The child’s expression held the faint, solemn disappointment of someone watching an adult fail to grasp a very obvious point.

Liria drew herself up. “What?”

Seralyth reached across the table and patted the back of Liria’s hand in a soothing manner that instantly made Liria suspicious.

“Now, now, dear,” she said. “This… misunderstanding is good for you, you know?”

She coughed delicately into her fist. Then coughed again. Her cheeks had gone slightly pink.

Liria narrowed her eyes. “You may continue.”

Seralyth’s smile turned strained.

“Thank you, dear. This… misunderstanding is, unfortunately, extremely useful.” She glanced toward Seris, and some of the teasing softness left her expression. “Thanks to it, the Church of Light agreed to hand custody of Seris over to you without question. They asked only that she return once every month until she reaches adulthood.”

Liria blinked. “That easily?”

“That easily,” Seralyth confirmed.

“They practically thanked us for taking responsibility,” Vaelir added.

Liria looked down at Seris. The little girl had gone very quiet. Her tiny fingers were still curled into the fabric at Liria’s waist.

Her chest tightened. She wrapped one arm more securely around the child and felt Seris relax almost at once.

That decided it. If pretending to be a returned goddess made things easier for Seris, then Liria could tolerate it. At least for now.

And if all that faith helped her return to level 1000 more quickly, then she wouldn’t object

But… if she accepted faith that had once belonged to the Goddess of Life, then did she also inherit some portion of that responsibility?