The afternoon finds me still in turmoil, even as my team and I depart the gym room Kayne rented out for us. Normally, working out in any capacity is great for helping me deal with the anxiety that’s been following me like a dark cloud for my entire life. Now, though, the scope of my problems just keeps getting bigger, and I’m honestly not sure how to even begin handling them.

  Despite what Grandpa said, I don’t think that the city’s leadership is stupid. Burdened with the weight of millions of lives, yes, but not stupid. I’m certain they have plans for the food problems as well as the other things Grandpa mentioned; I just wish I knew what they were. Karma swore to me that the city is possible to save, and honestly, I trust her more than my grandfather — even considering what happened in my first incursion zone.

  Speaking of incursion zones, that’s another massive source of anxiety. It’s already Wednesday afternoon, which means we have training on Thursday… and another incursion on Friday. Surely it can’t be as bad as my first one, right? That was a special circumstance. Unless, of course, I’d been correct in interpreting Audrey’s words from before, and there really is some kind of alien intelligence guiding the incursion zones. Stars… I need to rank up and fast.

  Finally, the last, and oddly least, source of anxiety is this sponsorship deal. I’ve been thinking it over, and I can’t seem to find the loophole. I looked up GDF regulations on sponsorships, and there isn’t anything that would implicate us by taking it. The GDF rules state that we’re allowed to take sponsorships as we please and that taking one is specifically not grounds for a transfer — likely to stop over-eager sentinels from trying to force one. So far as I can tell, my first instinct is correct, and he’s just trying to connect us to him more and more.

  Whatever the reasons, my conversation has me well and truly stressed out, and I’m hoping discussion with my team will help me solidify my thoughts. After I’d spoken to Baylee about the sponsorship deal, she’d organized us to spend some time together after working out to discuss the possible benefits of the deal.

  As such, we all now ride the tram towards my family’s apartment — which happened to be the closest of our homes to the gym.

  Leaning back in the uncomfortable tram seat — squeezed between Claire and Akari — I scroll through the contents of the sponsorship email on my phone. I have to admit that some of the offerings are quite enticing. Still, it feels like selling out.

  I sigh, squirming in my seat. The tension within me just keeps growing tighter, and it never seems to release. I have moments of relief, sure, but the weight of millions of lives presses down on my shoulders, crushing me.

  In an attempt to find relief, I find myself looking out the window as the city blurs past me — silvery spires jutting into the sky and glittering with the setting sun. Several window cleaners are out today, clearing the streaks caused by the recent rainstorm for the rich and important. I vaguely wonder if those poor men and women know what’s coming... if anyone in this city truly knows what a volcora invasion would be like. Would they still go about their normal lives if they knew? If they knew just how close we are to losing everything, would they behave differently?

  I’ve certainly started behaving differently myself — at least in some aspects. At the gym, I don’t run on the treadmill to improve myself; I run to ensure I’m fast enough to save a life. I don’t practice my archery for the love of the sport any longer; I practice because a single missed arrow could mean the difference in losing a teammate to a volcora. Somewhere along the way, I lost the ability to take pleasure in these simple things rather than allowing them to stress me further. I hate it… even if my stress makes me push myself to improve faster, I hate the idea that I can no longer find joy in the little things I used to love.

  Shouldn’t these things be enjoyable? Shouldn’t the slight burn of worn muscles make me feel proud of a day’s work well done? Why can’t I just let go? Can’t I be like those window cleaners once more — blissfully ignorant of the danger lurking around the corner?

  I can’t seem to go an hour these days without wondering, what if Dad and Grandpa are right? They’re older and smarter than me, aren’t they? What does General Novak see that they don’t.

  Closing my eyes, I make a decision. I need answers if I’m going to keep going, and I need them today. It’s the one thing I can think of that will help reduce my anxiety. There is just too much I don’t know, and the knowledge I lack is a large part of what’s been leaving me in turmoil. It’s time to change that, to get answers. Luckily, I know just where I want to start.

  “Celeste,” I start, projecting my thoughts, “it’s time we spoke about what you’ve been keeping from me.”

  Later that night, Celeste and I sit alone in my room. The discussion about the sponsorship didn't go anywhere, mostly because I’m still so unsure about the future. It seems a real possibility that I’ll be taken from Shinara, but I don’t even know if that’s what I want. Depending on what I learn tonight, I may or may not take a different stance.

  So far, Celeste has been evasive in answering my questions. I can tell how much it hurts her to keep the knowledge from me, but she’s been insistent that she needs permission before sharing anything. Permission, it seems, she’s finally attained.

  I sit on the edge of my bed, a storm of emotions raging inside me. Whatever I learn here, it needs to be the fact that tips my decision one way or the other. No more balancing on the edge, either I fight to stay in Shinara with everything I have, or I passively wait for my family to pull me from the fire.

  “So…” I start awkwardly, “are you ready to talk?”

  Celeste stands at the foot of my bed, shifting her balance constantly in what I imagine is a centurion rendition of a dog doing tippy taps. She’s nervous, and her posture reminds me of the first time I’d found her in my room, not all that long ago.

  [My mother… she says that she will be speaking with you directly,] Celeste says, obviously concerned — her tail lashes behind her, and she keeps adjusting and readjusting her wings.

  I bite my lip, my own nervous tension rising to a crescendo. “You’re… afraid of her?”

  Celeste looks up at me, her blue eyes wide and swirling with power. [Serena… my mother. They call her Althia the Golden, and she is beyond ancient. In terms of Tributary Mana and the power scales you understand, she is the closest thing to a deity that my kind knows of. Beyond A Rank; beyond even the concept of ranks.]

  Celeste’s eyes fall, and her ears twitch in agitation. [It’s not that she scares me, but I am anxious for you. She won’t hurt you; we are one and the same, so she will treat you as her daughter. However, my mother does nothing without a reason. I wish I knew why she’s chosen now to speak.]

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  My throat works as I consider Celeste’s words. Still, I’ve demanded answers, and if Celeste’s words are correct, then her mother will be the best one to provide them.

  The idea of a near deific centurion is terrifying, though, and I’m not sure that it being Celeste’s mother makes it any better — at least she’s not a volcora. What would a being like this be able to do if it could arrive on Earth? Would it make the Volcora invasion look like a mild breeze in comparison to the true storm? Part of me is glad that she is stuck without a body in Celeste’s home dimension.

  “Okay,” I say, letting out a shuddering breath. “How do I talk to her?”

  Celeste’s next words send a shiver down my spine. [My mother has already begun to intrude into this dimension. She’s attempting to form a body for herself, but this world cannot yet accommodate her. She’s too… heavy, for lack of a better word. However, she has enough connection to this world and to us to provide a way to speak.]

  I nod, attempting to firm my resolve. Celeste’s mother can’t really arrive on Earth… can she? If she can… well, it might be a good thing she would consider me daughter.

  “How do we start?” I ask, hugging myself.

  [She will facilitate the connection when she’s ready. I’m not sure when that will be, though,] Celeste says, although I’ve already begun to feel something in my room changing.

  Power, so potent it makes my skin tingle slowly, starts to permeate the room. The power is invisible, but for the faint golden cast, it lends everything in the room. It builds and builds, pushing in on me until I have to bite back a cry of pain. The tingling sensation starts to feel like tiny bolts of lightning zapping every inch of skin.

  My entire bedroom is filled with a golden haze, twisting and writhing as it begins to swirl around me like my own mist normally does. The sharp pain of the pinpricks continues to push in on me, and I have to resist the urge to run for the door.

  A melodic voice whispers into my mind. [I was just waiting for you to finish, daughter,] the voice says, vibrating with so much power that I feel my knees weaken. If I’d been standing, I’m certain I would have collapsed.

  With a final surge of golden power, my vision goes black, and I find myself… elsewhere.

  When I wake, that feeling of overwhelming power has lessened significantly — not gone, for I can feel it all around me, but instead dispersed across the landscape. What’s more surprising, however, is where I find myself.

  I stand in a small clearing of trees next to a large, tranquil pond. Birds chirp happily, and I can clearly see wildlife all around — deer serenely drinking the calm water and squirrels playing in the branches of the old oak trees.

  The entire scene around me is beautiful, reminding me of the wildlife in the eco-dome that contains Silver Ridge. However, even that can’t really compare to the reality around me. This forest isn’t carefully curated like the gardens at Silver Ridge. Instead, it is wild and elegant in its freedom.

  In the distance, I see oddly symmetrical white-gold cliffs wrapping the entire forest and making it into a sort of bowl-shaped valley. The cliffs are oddly tubular and wrap the forest in a perfect circle, as if someone enclosed this place with a single massive piece of string made of woven white-gold thread and then turned the string into stone.

  I look around with wide eyes, taking in a waterfall that pours down one of the distant cliffs faces and forms a river at the bottom that ultimately feeds into the pond before me.

  “Where… where am I?” I ask aloud, confused. Celeste is not with me physically, although I can feel her resting in my spirit. Her physical body must have been left behind in my room.

  [This is but a simple mindscape I created for us to talk,] that same melodic voice says in my mind. It’s louder now, allowing me to hear the beautiful undertones of the voice — almost closer to song than speech and yet perfectly coherent. I can’t yet pinpoint where it’s coming from, however, so I just continue looking out over the pond.

  I swallow and clench my hands at my sides. “You are Celeste’s mother?” I ask out loud, instinctively knowing that my ability to communicate mentally starts and ends at Celeste.

  [I am your mother as well,] the voice says, sounding amused.

  I, however, am not. “My mother is dead,” I say firmly. Then, add more gently, “But I understand what you’re referring to.”

  I have to admit, I’m not exactly happy with the idea of this foreign being claiming to be my mother. Celeste and I may share a soul now, but I know who my mother is.

  [Do you? I’ve spent years determining what a bond to a human partner would do to one of my daughters. Your souls are now inexorably linked. You will be together both in this life and the next. The bond between you cannot be severed. In this, you are now one person, one being, one soul. My daughter’s soul was used in your creation, and thus, you are my daughter.] The voice explains this with calm assurance, as if already knowing these answers far more intimately than I could ever properly understand.

  I frown but nod. “Very well then…” I force myself to say, needing to move on with the conversation. “I have questions to which I need answers.”

  [Then answers you shall have,] she responds, and the Earth beneath me begins to quake.

  All around me, a scene of devastation plays out as the distant cliffs start to move. First, they wriggle about as if part of some snake the size of which could fill the horizon! Along the cliff or… body, truly massive white wings, much like Celeste’s, explode outward and begin to move up and down in slow arcs that span kilometers. Six pairs of wings all flap at once, each one kicking up storms and blasting away clouds. Slowly, a figure of legend rises from the Earth, a white-gold, serpentine dragon.

  The beast lets out an ear-shattering roar that I’m certain would have deafened me if this place were real. Even still, it makes the ground tremble even further, and the small forest animals, who were frozen with fright, leap into motion as they try to run anywhere to get away from this behemoth.

  Throughout it all, I stand untouched. Despite toppled trees and a sloshing lake, the shaking of the ground is only mildly unpleasant to me. I find it likely that Celeste’s mother is somehow shielding me from getting hurt or that it simply isn’t possible to get hurt in a space like this. That fact doesn’t stop me from watching the dragon with wide-eyed horror, however.

  Slowly, the ground stops shaking, and the wind stops plastering my hair against my face — blue hair like in my assault state, although I haven’t shifted. The massive figure of the dragon looms large on the horizon, massive sapphire eyes locked right on me. The golden wings have stopped their pumping, and yet the dragon remains impossibly suspended in the air. Her length must be measured in hundreds of kilometers! Maybe thousands!

  [I am Althia the Golden, the keeper of the Celestial Truths! And I am at your service!] The melodic voice booms, its sheer force making me fall to my knees as I no longer have the strength to stand. I bow my head as looking upon this creature is like looking at a sunrise — its power is impossible to miss and blinding if you look at it too closely.

  Celeste said that her mother was forming a body for herself… if this is it, then humanity is about to see an era of new gods. No longer will men worship the distant stars as we have for centuries; before a creature such as this, what can you do but bow. And she considers me her daughter! Stars… what have I gotten myself into.

  Steadily, the pressure pouring off the massive dragon begins to lessen until it’s almost nothing. Shakily, I manage to climb back to my feet and look up at the beast — my knees tremble, not due to any pressure, but the sheer appearance of Althia. A single movement of her body could cause an earthquake, and a flap of her wings a hurricane. She needs no magic to intimidate as she does so with her sheer presence.

  Trembling, I meet the eyes of this magnificent creature, seeing the fangs the size of a skyscraper. Summoning my courage, I force my thoughts to voice. “How do I save Japan?! How do I save my home?!” I call up to the beautiful visage.

  A gentle laugh sounds in my mind, and Althia swims closer to me in the air until I stand in the shadow of her head — it’s the size of a mountain. The air around me grows ever so slightly colder as she blocks out the light of the sun for an area spanning kilometers.

  [Speak normally, daughter. I can hear you,] her voice chides gently in my mind.

  I nod, forcing confidence despite the bone-shaking terror running through me. “How do I save Japan?” I repeat, my voice wavering and yet confident. Somehow, even though my goal of saving my home once felt impossible, before Althia, nothing feels impossible.

  [That’s quite the goal and will require quite the plan. But I’m nothing if not up for a challenge. Let’s get started.]