Serafina's Flame

by J. C. Hart

  "You glow, Aida. We can see it." The little girl stuttered the words out, not meeting Aida’s gaze.

  Aida pursed her lips, furrowing her brow in an exaggerated manner. "I glow?" She stretched her arms and peered at them before pulling back in shock. "I do! I hadn’t noticed. When did that happen?" She looked around the group, her lips curling in a grin. A few of the children giggled, but some weren’t sure if she was being serious.

  "When you came back. You died." Jento had always been so matter of fact, but that didn’t stop Aida from being surprised by his words.

  "You say I died. Hmm. Well, I’m not sure I died all the way. Something happened, yes, and it did change me. I’m still the same person who looked after you, who told you stories, and prepared your food, who rocked you to sleep when you were upset and your parents weren’t home."

  "Do you swear?" Yosana said. Her look of hope was infectious.

  "I swear. I will always be here for you, no matter what."

  Yosana scrambled across the circle and snuggled against Aida’s side, and for the first time since she woke from being almost killed, she felt like maybe, sometime, things would go back to normal.

  ***

  Branches cracked behind them, and they turned to see Vana approaching. She didn’t say anything, just beckoned to the children and waited as they readied themselves. Aida let them all pass her, touching their shoulders in comfort as they went, then lifted Lucian onto her back where he continued to sleep.

  It took no time at all to get to the village. The children stopped on the border in a line, forming a wall. Aida handed Lucian to Yosana and gently made her way to the front.

  She had never seen the village this way before. Charred buildings lined the edge. She could see her own hut, or what remained. The memory of smoke stung her nostrils and her eyes watered. She hadn’t even remembered to ask after Gabe, but then surely her mother would have mentioned if he hadn’t made it. Aida had stuffed him under their blankets to try to protect him; she only hoped he would forgive her the force she’d used.

  "Is anyone left?" she asked.

  Vana shook her head. "But we knew they’d be gone." She turned to face the group. "I know this has been hard, but we aren’t finished our journey yet. Go to your homes, gather up bedding and any food you can: spare canteens, shoes, whatever you need, whatever you can carry. And then go to the great house. We’ll sleep there tonight."

  None of the children moved. Aida pursed her lips, eyes flitting to her mother before she spoke. "Go in groups, so you don’t have to be alone. You four." She pointed, and then pointed again, and again. "And you, and you. Go now, we want to be inside before full dark comes." Aida smiled and shooed them away as she used to, like this was any old day, and any old task she had set them.

  "We should do the same," Vana said, her words soft and full of sorrow.

  "We’ll do it together." Aida held her hand out and waited for Vana to reach for it. Her mother’s grip was light in her fingers, so Aida squeezed harder, making Vana look at her. "I am still your daughter, mother. Don’t forget that."

  A wan smile flittered across Vana’s lips. "I know, my love, I know. But you are more than that now."

  Aida had no response. She wasn’t quite sure what her mother meant, and she didn’t want to say the wrong thing. She had never felt so untethered from her mother before and it made her nervous, the sorrow of it digging deeper than even the loss of life they saw before them as they walked through the village.

  The door to their hut had fallen; the whole back half of the building was burned away. Aida stepped into the room and looked around, trying to spot anything she would want enough to take with her, but all of this was her past, not her future.

  Vana, however, was picking through the remains of their hut, looking for something. Aida couldn’t fathom what, so she stood in silence, just inside the door, and tried not to think about the life they used to have.

  4

  As she entered the great hall, Aida felt a wash of warmth over her, and she knew that Serafina’s arms enclosed the building. They would be safe tonight.

  She had always known about the goddess, but it hadn’t been until the moment when Carmel sunk herself into Aida, changed her whole being, that she had truly believed. Had felt it for herself. And despite her youth, she knew this was a thing they all had to experience. It had been too long since their lives were infused with the holy.

  Having never met Carmel in life, it was strange to hear the older woman inside her now. Snippets of wisdom, stories of days long gone, her voice was intertwined with that of Serafina, and Aida believed that when she opened her mouth, at some point, they would all speak together.

  Aida brought herself back to the room. It was easy, these days, to let her mind wander, to think things she had never thought before and then get lost in those thoughts. To let herself go and be one with the others. And yet… she couldn’t. Not entirely. There was always a piece of her fighting to remain Aida.

  The children huddled down one end of the room around the barren fireplace. Sleeping mats had been abandoned by the rest of the village, but there were no blankets. Aida strode down the hall and stepped through the gaggle of children, mindful not to tread on any toes. She knelt before the hearth and stretched out her hands, heat rising in her palms before she had even thought to call it. Fire sprang to life on the charred logs, and light spilled out across the floor.

  Aida rocked back on her heels, aware of all eyes on her. It was the first ‘miracle’ the children had seen, and there was a hush in the room, filled only by the tension of held breath.

  "It’s okay," she whispered. "Get warm, and I will make stew." She stood, grabbed the large pot which hung over the hearth, and retreated, trying not to notice the soft whispers that began as she reached the door.

  Vana was there, and she reached a hand out to touch Aida’s face. "They mean no ill."

  "I know. Much as I know this is something I’ll have to adjust to. Things have changed."

  Vana nodded, lips pursed, and moved to let Aida pass.

  "I’ll check the stores and see what we have for food." She turned back to her mother. "We should leave in the morning. And you need rest too." Vana didn’t meet her gaze, but she did enter the building, and Aida had to wonder if her mother would defer to her now.

  ***

  Aida sat on the steps of the main house, watching the clouds pass over the moon. Everyone else was snoring inside, but she couldn’t sleep. Didn’t need to, really. She’d had a few hours earlier, and she felt energized and ready for the next stage of their journey. To a new home, a place where they had no history and where the Asakan people couldn’t get them. They hoped.

  Vana seemed sure that the Asakans would follow them, but Aida wasn’t. They were a bunch of scrawny kids and one woman. Yet, Carmel had been just one old woman and a baby. They had come for her. Come and destroyed this village and everything she’d known.

  It was only through that action that Aida had come to truly know the goddess though. With that thought, she stood and moved down to the firepit in the center of the old meeting space. It had been cold for days, but she stuck her hands into the ashes and closed her eyes.

  "Come speak with me," she called to the goddess. And then there was fire covering her hands, filling the circle of the fire pit. Aida stood, but didn’t move from the ring. The flames shot six feet up, and the goddess emerged.

  "Aida, little one. You don’t need to call me to speak with me."

  "I know, but I wanted to see you, to talk like this, with words." Aida ducked her head, torn between the awe she felt and her desire for answers. "They all know I’ve changed, and they treat me differently… I know it’s normal, and it will take time, but I don’t like it."

  "Viewing you as something different, and yet the same as them will save your people in the end. We’re all the same in some way. Do you understand? "

  Aida shook her head.

  "It matters not." Serafina smiled, reached out a
hand and brushed the side of Aida’s face. "I know it will become clear in time."

  It was uncomfortable, knowing that the goddess expected more from her, so she changed the topic. "Mother is sure she’ll find the way to this new place, but can you help me?"

  "Does she want help?" The goddess chuckled, the sound of it raised the hair on Aida’s arms and a flush in her cheeks. "Your mother is a very independent woman who prides herself on her skills as a tracker. She might need this to feel like she still has purpose. Carmel can guide you, but perhaps it’s better if she doesn’t." She paused and glanced around at the ruined village, sadness tinging the lines of her face. "I’m sorry it came to this. Your people have been here for an age and I hate that it’s been taken from them. I hope you know that was never my intention. Never Carmel’s intention. I asked her to come back here to reunite me with my people, but all it did was bring trouble."

  "That wasn’t you. It was them. The Asakan’s may have followed Carmel and laid waste, but they’ve done it before. Just as they have all over these lands, ever since they first invaded." The words flew from her mouth with such heat that she surprised even herself. There was enough of Vana in her then to make her still her mother’s daughter.

  "And do you know why?"

  "Because they hate us?" Aida shrugged. The answer didn’t sit right with her, but she didn’t know an alternative. Didn’t want to admit to that either. She could feel Carmel struggling with the same question inside her. They, as a people, had never really tried to find out the reasons behind historic attacks, and now they were on the run, avoiding more.

  "Oh, child. They don’t hate you, just what you stand for." Serafina stroked her face again. "Think back to your interactions with them for clues. Think of their priestess and her desperation for approval, for attention. She’s the living embodiment of her goddess, just as you are mine, but that isn’t to say that her goals are the same as Asaka’s." Serafina’s heat faded and the flames disappeared, leaving Aida in darkness. A chill ran up her spine, but it wasn’t because she was cold.

  Iraja was a fierce woman. Similar to Vana, now that Aida thought about it—her dogged pursuit of her goals, at the very least. And what did she want now? She had revenge on Carmel for escaping captivity. Would she feel the need to take Romane back to the city, or would she let him go?

  No. She wouldn’t let anything go. So it was up to Aida to figure out a way to heal this rift and get Iraja to leave them be. The Nivaen’swere peaceful, would continue to be peaceful, but they would not be passive.

  5

  By dawn’s light, they were already packed and saying goodbye to their village. Vana scouted ahead, picking up the path their people had taken. She was carefully leading the children in the same general direction, while avoiding the original trail so as not to make it too obvious for any who followed. Aida brought up the rear, her pace slow and distracted as she pondered last night’s conversation.

  Apparently goddesses were fickle things, not giving direct answers, but requiring their loyal servants to figure things out for themselves. But then, she knew that Serafina wanted her people to have choices, and so if the goddess simply told Aida what to do, there was little choice involved.

  Was she always like that? She directed the question to Carmel and hoped the goddess wouldn’t take it personally.

  She was never quite what I expected if that’s what you mean.

  Aida sighed and pushed away those thoughts, focusing instead on the ground beneath her feet, the children walking ahead of her, and the bird song breaking the silence. And then it hit her. What she had to do.

  She quickened her pace until she had caught up with Vana then turned to the children who had clustered around them. "I just need to speak with mother for a minute. Stay here." She smiled. "You’ll be safe, don’t worry."

  Vana frowned, but followed Aida a short distance. "What’s this about?"

  "I need to stay behind. Iraja, the priestess, will follow. If I wait here, I can speak to her and find a solution to this problem."

  "No." Vana shook her head and grabbed Aida’s arm. "You can’t stay behind. I don’t know what foolhardy suggestions our goddess has been making, but we need to stick together. I lost you once…"

  Aida bit her lip. "You didn’t lose me, I was stolen. It wasn’t your fault."

  "That’s not how I see it," Vana murmured. "Regardless, we stick together. I’m still your mother."

  "You will always be my mother," Aida said, her words clipped. "That doesn’t mean you’re always right. And this wasn’t the goddess’s suggestion, it was mine. I’m capable of having my own thoughts! You’ve never let anyone else tell you what do to, why would you expect me to?"

  "That’s enough." Vana was still, cool. "You will return to the group and help me take these children home. That is final."

  It took all her willpower not to say anything, but she did as she was told, a new idea formulating.

  She walked to the back, and they all moved on. Aida reached out and snapped a branch; the first of many. If she couldn’t stay to meet Iraja, she would just have to make sure Iraja found her.

  ***

  The tree bridge loomed before them. They didn’t pause; this was their territory, after all, and the goddess was with them, wanted them to go over. Aida ran her hands along the branches that made the railings. They were warm in the sun and seemed to hum under her fingers.

  Is there truly magic in this bridge? she asked.

  There is. Though it didn’t happen quite as the legends say. I spotted this mountain and decided to make it my home, so I created the bridge to get to it.

  Where did you come from? Aida had always assumed the goddess was a part of the mountain. The idea that she had come there was foreign.

  I was born far from here. My parents loved me, but my sister did not. As soon as I was strong enough, I moved away. I found the Nivaen people, nurtured them to strength. And then she came after me.

  Your sister?

  Yes. Serafina paused. Asaka. The All Mother.

  Aida stopped walking. Your sister. Her stomach clenched, confused by this revelation. It was your sister who destroyed our city. Your sister who attacked our village. Your sister who ordered us taken from our homes. Why does she hate you so?

  Serafina sighed and a warm wind rushed over the bridge. Keep moving, little one.

  The goddess didn’t speak until Aida began to walk, making her strides long to catch up with the rest of the group. She was used to getting things her own way, and then I came along and ruined that. All of a sudden she had to share the attention of our parents. She was hurt, as though they couldn’t love us both the same, as if they must love me more because I needed more attention.

  You were just new, Aida said, her brow furrowing. Did she not love you at all?

  I don’t think so. If she did, she kept it well hidden. I left as soon as I could, found your people, and started over. I thought that would be it.

  But she found you and came after you. Destroyed your city.

  I thought we’d be safe, but then she came again. She could have killed me if she’d wanted, but instead she alienated me from my people so I lost my strength.

  "And it worked," Aida whispered the words, horrified. We helped her achieve her goal. But why did Iraja come back?

  I don’t know. But I believe it wasn’t at Asaka’s behest.

  Aida puzzled over that, tried to form questions but had no idea what to ask. It didn’t make sense.

  She looked up to find they were almost off the bridge. Vana was waiting for the remaining children to catch up, so Aida hurried them along, scooping up Lucian as she went. "It won’t be too many days now until we’re back with our people. Hang in there."

  "I’m so tired of walking. Why can’t we stop?" He leaned his head against her shoulder.

  "Because we’re not safe here, not until we get to our new home." She brushed the hair out of his eyes and gave him a smile.

  "Where Daddy is?"

  "I
hope so, honey."

  We go left from here, child, Carmel said.

  Thanks, I’m going to let mother take the lead on this one though.

  "It looks like they went that way. Come. We want to get under the shelter of the trees, it’s too exposed out here."

  Aida approached her mother, gently touched her arm. "Can we have a rest once we’re there? We’ve been walking a long time and the little ones need a break."

  "Don’t you think I know that?" Vana glared. "But we have to be safe, we have to be careful."

  "Careful means nothing if half of us fall over from exhaustion before we get there," Aida snapped. Then she sighed. "I’m sorry. I’m tired, this has been a trying time."

  "We’re all tired, Aida. Don’t you think I know that? That doesn’t change the fact that we have to keep going. We can rest when it starts to get dark." Vana shook her head. "Come on, children. We must move."

  6

  It was two more days before they saw signs of human life. A steady stream of smoke billowed into the sky, but it was that of a contained fire, not a burning village. Still, Vana made them stop, and she went ahead to make sure.

  By now, Aida was impatient. She was tired of traveling, tired of listening to her mother, and tired of waiting for Iraja to catch up to them. They had to be following by now. Surely.

  Serafina had been strangely absent, and Carmel all but silent since Aida had started leaving a trail. A fine patina of worry lined her stomach, and she had barely eaten in the last few days. Not that they had much left over. The few berries and nuts she foraged she’d passed on to the little ones, the grumble of their bellies too much for her to bear.

  She set Lucian off her knee and stood. "Stay here for a little. Vana will return soon, I just need to pee." She smiled and headed back the way they’d come, sparing a single glance behind her before she was out of sight.