Wild ​Reverence

by Rebecca Ross

“He may be irreverent toward all of us, save for you. I think he desires to worship you.” “I do not want him to feel like he must worship me. I do not want to change who he is, or what he believes.” Rowena smiled. “Oh child, you are still quite young, aren’t you? He longs to worship you, but not in the way you think.”

My home is your home. My arms are a haven for you to rest. My last name is yours if you desire it. I will love you to my grave, and even beyond it, when the mists welcome me, when I am hopefully very old and gray and grouchy and have spent the seasons beside you when you are here and dreaming of you when you are gone. I love you, dearly, Red. Come home to me. Return to me, when you can. I will be watching the skies and the river until then.

“If you have a crown of stars … why can’t I see it?” I asked. “Because the crowns can only be seen by the one who knows your soul. Adria can see mine. Vincent, I suspect, can see yours.”

That brought Bade to a sliding halt. At once, the howls vanished. The darkness did not feel so heavy. Young Matilda vanished into mist. He turned and looked at me, still clinging to his hand, my eyes wide and desperate.

I had never called him that, but it was what he was to me. No blood tethered us, but without him, I would not have been who I was. I was the daughter he would never have. The child he had secretly wanted.

I have lived thirteen years without her once. I can make it through seven. I can endure ten. If she will only return to me.

My name was destined to be blotted out of the divine myths and perhaps even forgotten amongst the poets and the bards as the seasons wheeled onward. Time did not favor such quiet stories. Once, I had feared this, until I realized my story was not one to be devoured by strangers. No, this was for him and for me. And if we wanted to tell it, we would in our own way. “I would wait a thousand years for you,” Vincent said. “If you asked me, I would wait for you until only my bones remained upon an altar. But if you must leave again, then let me follow you, Red.”

smoke that stained the air, she concealed it well. She had died many years ago but had returned to live alongside her mortal love. Their time together had been simple but fulfilling. When he had eventually passed, silver-headed and weathered by the generous years given to him, she had gone with him to the mists, much to the shock of the gods. I had not seen her again after that, maybe because that was when the conflict between the Underlings and Skywards flared bright and violent.

She was the only dead divine who could come and go as she pleased. Who could cross the threshold of the mists as she willed. What power she held; it radiated from her like the summer sun. I could hardly believe she had been forgotten amongst men. That her name could only be evoked by the oldest of divines, and we had all but melted away in this new world.

“I have no intention of bearing souls,” I was quick to add. “But I think you know that the soul can be found in words, and words within the soul. The two reflect each other in the sky, do they not?”