Each mystery Anahí brought to light was an affirmation of men’s ignorance. Every new plant and animal walking those lands confirmed our sins were more outrageous than tales told. Otherwise, we would have borne witness to those wonders from the moment we were born.

As we left the city, I showered her with questions, many held deep within me for years. My Sovereign’s words carried the weight of a thousand lives. She shared knowledge from her predecessors and Lossar herself. She connected events, dates, and places, answering in rich detail.

Goosebumps crawled under my skin, and my heart leaped in my chest. Not even in my deepest dreams could I fathom how much there was to learn. She gestured toward the horizon, as She recounted dinosaur species.

“To prove our bravery, we had to choose one of them—watch over and help it on our own. Mine was a T-Rex.” Her eyes gleamed.

Our ancestors used their “Iron Beasts” for a wicked practice named “war,” which killed many people in the name of a god called “Money.” That entity’s hunger was endless. Adults or children, it did not matter. All were killed, their souls devoured.

The Unseen Eyes watched our steps because they hid in plain sight. Lossar, perfect in Her wisdom, bestowed a drop of her essence upon the animals, plants, rivers, rocks, and the wind. They emitted a faint energy, but Mages perceived and studied its power. Interpreting that energy was the Queen’s responsibility.

“That connection tickles, but when someone acts with evil intent toward Mother’s creations, it burns. And I see what happened through the animals’ gaze.”

”Is your tie with humans the same?” I worried she might have heard my thoughts all night long.

“I am, to my sisters and mothers.” She pursed her lips, thumb and forefinger holding her chin. “When danger rises, we keep order through precision. Each move matters. Any mistake can be fatal. In those moments, women think in unison—we plan and act in perfect synchrony.”

That explains their flawless organization during the Solstice, like when we were getting ready to go to the courtyard.

Anahí chuckled, her gaze fixed on me.

“That’s right.”

“I-I’m sorry?” I frowned, my gut tightened.

“Not being intertwined with men often doesn’t mean I can’t do it, sweet Alessio.” She moved close and pinched my cheek. “We practiced for the ritual, but when we have alcohol, our minds working together become even more effective.”

I blinked; the words stumbled in my mouth before leaving it.

“Was I being watched this whole time, milady?” My cheeks flushed as I reached for her hand.

“Not at all.” Her lips curved into a foxlike smile. “I only did it when it was convenient, like now, for a laugh, and when we were coming through the rift, to keep you safe.”

“You never cease to amaze me.” My lips caressed the tips of her fingers. Those powers were beyond my imagination, and so was the burden they must’ve brought along.

We walked until the landscape shifted to dense woods. A massive construction, the size of ten large barns, rose between the trees. Vines and flowers covered its tall wooden walls. They made a shelter for birds and insects. On top of it, a glass dome reflected the sky, with a stern tower at its center.

The path led to a building, but there were no doors. I ran my hand over the leaves and studied the surface, but still found nothing.

Anahí guided the way. Our steps echoed through the long hallway. Spacious rooms with curious devices lined its sides. Metal containers, taller than a human, stood in the corners. Tiny white things with black antennae rested on dark countertops next to clear boxes lit with bright colors.

Our destination lay behind the last door. It was a circular room, bathed in a dim, pink light. Ten huge wooden beds with lots of pillows and soft blankets rested unoccupied, and so did the cribs right beside them.

Above us was the glass dome showing the firmament, but it didn’t let the two suns’ brightness interfere with the created atmosphere. I heard music, but saw no instruments.

“This is it!” Anahi exclaimed, Her whole body shimmering as she spun on her heel.

“It’s so peaceful here.” The smell of the herbs filled my lungs and loosened my muscles as I explored it.

“We designed everything to give the comfort they need when delivering.” She gripped the cradle’s headboard, smiling with pride. “We sleep here on our first night on Earth. Can you imagine that?”

“Bringing life into the world is amazing, but having so many babies at once… wow. Do Mages use their gift to help with that, too?”

“We do, but not with the magic you know about.” My Queen folded her arms. “Lossar understood magic was strong – but it wasn’t enough to fix every sickness or remove all struggles her creatures would face in this new world.”

“As She extinguished evil from the planet, Her power protected humanity’s last treasure—science. When the Wheel of Fate turned again, Mother entrusted it to Her daughters.”

My eyes gave it away, as my hand clamped over my mouth. Anahí turned her palms up and created another bubble, bigger than the last.

“People in Sur Nam Khaar believed this skill had disappeared. They preferred remaining unaware over facing mistakes of those who lived before.”

The sphere showed a city in black and white. Adults, elders, and children roamed the streets, busy with their lives. Animals walked among them, playing. A screeching noise cut through the air. Few citizens fled; most ignored it and continued on their way. Soon after, an iron creature laid an egg upon the town. Its ominous shape fell to the ground, and everything below vanished in a mushroom-shaped cloud.

I couldn’t stop the tears that rolled down my cheeks. What have we done?

“Lossar gave us science, so we learned what we were fighting against, to help humankind thrive. She gifted Mages with magic too, allowing women to have a fraction of Her power against time itself.” The bubble popped, and the image disappeared.

Those sins weighed three bulls on my stomach, as if I had committed them myself. It was hard to swallow, impossible to breathe. We are unworthy of walking on the same ground that those innocents once stepped on.

My Lostany remained beside me, caressing my hair and drying my face while I sobbed in disbelief. I mourned those who had jumped to their demise from the prison we saw while crossing the veil. I also grieved for the lives decimated by the destruction bird.

Long after witnessing that revelation, a new melody overcame the one in the background. Anahí was humming. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and stared at her.

“What song is this?” I sniffed.

“It’s a lullaby we sing for the newborns, until they are grown enough to go to their families or to soothe them for their parents, when they are not human.” She giggled. “That’s how we handle more than one baby.”

“Sing it for me, please.” My plea slipped out, mournful in tone.

She nodded, pulled my head to her lap, and sang, her tunes soft and soothing.

“Hush now, all you gentle creatures,
Mother’s presence lingers near.
Not beyond some false forever,
Nor undone by human fear.

Lossar flows through all that’s living,
We in Her are intertwined.
She brings justice wrapped in mercy,
Love and pain by her design.

Sleep now, children, soft and silent,
Our fate is gently known.
To atone or guide another,
None shall walk their path alone.

Rest now, held within her presence,
Comforting as dusk and still as sea.
Through her care, both fierce and tender,
She will guard your destiny.”

My jewel’s hands ran through my hair, caressing away the hurt. The song reminded me of the Goddess and Her glory and mercy. She trusted our ability to start anew and blessed me with loving fathers and loyal friends. That’s proof enough that we deserve Her care.

After an hour and a half, my face was less swollen, my nose wasn’t red anymore, and I had eased my uneven breathing. Soon, we left that place. My Sovereign remained silent on our walk back to the rift. I relished the scenery, as I observed those magnificent beings. I desired to hold those memories dear, though my closing hours neared.

As we got to our destination, she stopped and looked at me, her deep gaze seeking a genuine answer.

“Are you feeling better?” She asked, reaching to touch my braid.

“Yes, milady.” I exhaled, a strained smile tugging at my lips. “I asked you to give me knowledge, and what I received surpassed my imagination. It’s a gift I’ll gladly take with me to the afterlife. Thank you.”

She chuckled.

“Don’t be hasty,” She said. “Let’s head back; my part of our arrangement isn’t complete yet.”

Editor: Lucy Cafiero