Lovely CareFree's Arc

Chapter 3 of 4

Verdis waded back into the surf at dawn. Lovely stood at the edge of the wet sand, watching him carry her leaves toward the mortal world again. He would fight the rival voice for her. But she could not go with him. She could not cross the water. She could not even shake his hand at the tide line without the shore pulling her back. "Wait," she called. He turned. "You do all this for me. I give you nothing back. I can't even walk out to meet you." He smiled. "You give the mortals hope. That's enough." But it was not enough for Lovely. She watched him swim off, and the loss stung. If she could not leave her shore, she needed a way to reach past it. A messenger that could find him wherever he stood. She walked to her willow tree and sat beneath the glass leaves. Her fluffy little creature climbed into her lap, ears twitching. She stroked its shaggy fur and thought. One creature had already crossed the water once. What if she made more? What if she gave them her voice? Lovely knelt by her patch of glass irises. The flowers glowed and hummed. She had grown them from her own light. She pressed her hands into the soil and poured her will into it. "Bring me carriers," she whispered. "Small ones. Fast ones. Ones who can speak." The irises flared. Petals broke loose and rose into the air. They folded and hardened and grew tiny faces. Six small batlike creatures hovered before her, wings thin as glass, glowing stones clutched in their paws. They chirped and spun in a bright, eager knot. Lovely laughed. She held up one glass leaf. "Carry this. Find the green god. Tell him my thanks in my own words." The nearest creature took the leaf in its mouth and squeaked a reply in a small, clear voice. It understood. She led them to her bright glass entry room, where the door opened toward the sea. "Go," she said. "You can cross where I cannot. And you can come back and tell me everything." The flock burst out over the water. They flew low and fast, six glowing dots shrinking toward the far shore. Lovely gripped the doorframe and watched until they vanished. For the first time she had eyes and a voice beyond her sand. Hours later they returned, wings damp, chattering all at once. "He read it," one said. "He smiled. He said to tell you thank you back." Then another cut in, nervous. "But we saw the village. Someone burned the leaves over the doors. A woman there tells them a new goddess is coming. A stronger one." Lovely's joy went cold. She had solved her silence. She could speak past her shore now. But her flock had carried back a worse truth. The rival was not just a whisper anymore. The rival had a name to give the mortals, and it was not hers.