16-3
Vantaiga’s head was spinning from the thoughts of Festor’s forest and her forest. Her anger was fully replaced with fear and doubt. She tried to keep her stern composure. “And… what about my forests… and my people?”
Hydar smiled sadly. “You and your people aren’t proud, and you don’t have great ambitions for them. But they are getting strong and confident. If you’re willing to make them humble, your forests can have a place in this world.”
“I destroyed a city.”
Hydar laughed. “Kundz? Oh, who hasn’t destroyed a city from time to time? They were becoming pretty arrogant themselves. Someone had to teach them a lesson.”
Vantaiga wasn’t so sure. A lesson? Maybe. But they didn’t deserve death. Why did she sentence them to death? She grew and expanded the forest to help people—not smite the wicked. Was her revenge for Syffox any different than Festor’s for his sons?
An agonising pressure built inside of her. Was it actually revenge for Syffox, or was it revenge for exposing her selfishness for not letting him join her? She sucked in a stuttered breath. “They didn’t deserve what I did to them.”
Hydar dismissed her guilt with a wave of his hand. “Oh, don’t go around pitying them for it. They insulted a god. Quite frankly, most of us were impressed with that weed trick. I thought it was very clever.”
Vantaiga half laughed, half sobbed at the thought. Why was she even around these beings?
“No, no. You shouldn’t be worried about Kundz. It was a good show of godliness. It is Derabel that is more concerning.”
“What about Derabel? I converted them?”
Hydar sucked in his breath and stood. “No, you didn’t convert them; you helped them. You should have talked to me first. The other gods weren’t happy about that. The people of Derabel were doing fine with their struggles. You helping them upset the balance we sought to restore by fighting Festor.” He stepped toward Vantaiga and placed a hand on her shoulder. “It’s only one city, though; it won’t be the end of the world.”
He reformed the chair Vantaiga sat on into a bench of clouds so that he could join her and hold her hand. “But you should be more careful about who you help and by how much. You can’t save everyone. You will have to let people suffer. You will have to learn to let people be humble and fend for themselves. We live in a harsh world—not because we want it this way but because it has to be this way.”
Vantaiga struggled to find a reason to say no, that he was wrong, but she couldn’t. Anguish for her people churned inside of her. With command over plants and animals, her clerics were some of the most powerful of the world and her people the most sturdy and long-lived of any. If they were to gain Syffox’s skill? How many of them would it take to strike down a god if they so chose?
A tear escaped her as the implications of Hydar’s words crowded in her head. “I always felt I didn’t fit in the world because of how I was treated. I only wanted to make a safe place where people wouldn’t have to suffer like I did. But you’re saying that to fit into this world, we must suffer—that I was meant to suffer.” She looked away. “That means it’s my people that don’t fit in, and now I have to let them suffer. I have to let everything we worked for be undone.” She sniffed, trying to hold back a second tear. “Why did the gods even let me become a goddess, then?”
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“They didn’t.” Hydar lifted her chin to make her look at him directly. “I did.”
The ache in Vantaiga’s stomach churned more deeply. “What?”
“I convinced the other gods to let you become a goddess. I convinced them not to be worried about you becoming like Festor. I helped your forest grow and told the others not to destroy it.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to see you and your forest grow. Because I love your forest.” Hydar clasped her hands with both of his. “…Because I love you.”
Vantaiga stared at his hands. She was too defeated to dispute his words or his feelings. Numbness crept over her. Had she doomed herself to fight Festor forever? Had she doomed herself to fight the gods forever? Had she doomed herself to destroy everything around her for one mortal man? She let the numbness take over; she didn’t want to think anymore. She couldn’t stand to hear what Hydar was saying but knew in his own way, he was trying to help. “So, what now?”
“Stay with me and your forest will grow like never before.”
“And my followers?”
“The forest can continue to shelter them, but you will have to stop being so generous to them. They will have to use more than faith to provide for themselves.”
Vantaiga let out a laughing sob. “That’s the whole foundation of my following.”
Hydar drew in a breath. “That’s not how it can work in our world.” He paused and drew in another deep breath. “And… you will have to stop protecting them from predators.”
Vantaiga gasped. “My villages are filled with predators. They will slaughter each other.”
Hydar thought about this for a moment. “Maybe you can go about things slowly and give everyone time to adjust. But you will have to learn to let them go… let of them go.”
She shook her head. “No, I can’t. I can’t let Syffox go. I know I’ll have to join with him one day. I just can’t let him go—not yet.”
Hydar slid from the bench to clasp her hands and knelt in front of her. He looked up with a solemn expression. “You can’t join with Syffox. The other gods will strike out at you if you do.”
The world spun around Vantaiga and she couldn’t breathe in enough air. “Why?”
Hydar’s expression turned dire. “Because then you would become like Festor. I like Syffox, I really do. In his own way, he is fun. But with his compromises and negotiating and patience, he would never make the hard decisions—the decisions that all of us gods have to make. You have proven you can make those decisions twice already. Striking down the people of Kundz was once. The other was not joining with Syffox for your ascension.”
Vantaiga gulped for air. “What do you mean? I did that because I love him and need him, because I couldn’t live without him.”
Hydar dropped his head with a pitying scoff before returning to meet her tearful gaze. “No, you did it because you are not as compatible as you think. If you were truly of one mind like those already within you, then you would have no doubts, like those that joined you. So, stop tormenting yourself over it. You did the right thing and are becoming a good goddess, and that is, after all, what you wanted.”
Vantaiga stared at his hands. “I didn’t want any of this. I just wanted my little farm with a loving man in my arms.”
Hydar sat back on the bench beside her and clasped her shoulders. “Is that what you really wanted? You didn’t want to help people? You didn’t want more beauty around you? You didn’t want to create a fantastic realm and life that would keep a wandering rogue next to you?
“You don’t need him. You are doing well without him. Come stay on high with me, and together, we’ll make your forest grow like the world has never seen. You can still have your followers; you can still have your beautiful realm. I’ll even make sure the other gods don’t strike at Syffox again. And you can still have a loving man in your arms.” He squeezed her shoulder. “Right here.”
Weakened by sadness, Vantaiga leaned into him. His body felt radiant and unshakeable, untainted by the sense of mortal decay and frailty she was becoming aware of all around her. She knew eventually she would have to live in a world without Syffox. Was their final day today?
She broke into sobs. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s all right. You’re doing the right thing.”
A laugh tumbled through her sobs. “No, I’m not. I’m doing what has to be done.”
