Sur Nam Khaar was a place that changed only with the shifting seasons. Beyond that, male existence resembled that of an old tree–peaceful.

We had our duties. Sewing, practicing arts, and cooking, but we also learned about humankind’s history and the Mother’s compassion. Our elders taught us about the Great Cataclysm and the Years of Redemption with tales and songs, but the ancestral men spoke through written pages, too.

The books we had showed pieces of the past through text and drawings as rich as the talent the artists displayed in those works. Teachings about how humans changed the landscape, dirtied the soil, and were cursed by gray clouds of what was called “pollution” left a powerful impression on me. The vivid descriptions from that time resembled a horrible nightmare.

As we reached the other side of the rift, a warm gush of wind slapped my face. Two suns, an orange and a golden one, hung in the deep blue sky, bathing the surroundings in their warmth. Iron poles held black wires above our heads; they projected tangled shadows on the floor.

Enormous towers rose from the ground, stern and menacing. Their shattered mirrored windows reflected the chaos surrounding them. Nearby stood house-shaped buildings, their front walls made entirely of glass. Inside, faceless scarecrows watched in silence.

Even with all their might, nature found its way through them, breaking, crawling upon, and covering everything with the blessings from our Goddess. Her creatures were also invited to transform the place and roam free. Insects of all kinds and colors flew along with the birds; bats took cover and slept inside the ruins; monkeys played above our heads, and lionesses licked their cubs near a fountain. Lossar’s touch dispelled the evil lurking and conceived it with the beauty of Her creations.

“Where are we?” My question came out as a whimper.

“This is the skeleton of a city struck by Mother’s power during the Great Cataclysm.” Anahí pointed to the constructions.

My stomach tightened, yet my breath came in hitches as I realized the ruins I had only known from ancient writings were no longer stories.

As we got closer to the structures, I understood how ants felt. Shards of glass crunched under our shoes and glittered on the path ahead. Among them, over a thousand necklaces of the same kind lay still. The blue fabric had a metallic, claw-like detail that attached it to the pendant, which was shaped as a rectangle and had a blurred surface facing upward. I crouched and grabbed one.

“It doesn’t feel like stone… What material did they use in this jewelry?” 

“That was something dangerous that Mother banished from Earth. And,” her lips curved downward, “the thing you are holding chained people back then.”

“What do you mean?” I swallowed hard.

“Every window above us sealed dozens of humans inside. As doom leaned over humanity, those poor souls chose the path some had traced before—they leaped from their prison to death.” Anahí paused. “All of these pieces had a picture of a captive person in them, which is now blurred and aged.”

I released the object as my stomach lurched.

“Humans tried to reach the god they believed in by imprisoning their equals in those stone cages.” She lowered her head and whispered a prayer for them.

“Did their god allow such a sin?”

“Not exactly. But they used the figure of a merciful deity as a facade to hide the one they worshipped, an entity born from greed and corruption. To feed it, our ancestors invented something called  ‘money’. Those who possessed more of it were seen as demigods. They enslaved others and worked them into sickness or worse.

A bitter taste invaded my mouth. 

“You saw through the Lady’s gaze and revived all that pain?” As she confirmed my suspicions, I reached for her hand. “Wasn’t it…”

“Torturing?” she scoffed. “Yes, it was. But I requested her to do it.”

She noticed my frown. Why would she put herself through this?

“I’ll tell you more about that later. Let’s keep moving; there is much more to see.”

We walked down a large street. There were trees along the way, as tall as the constructions we’ve seen, that seemed a thousand years old. We rambled long enough to allow the sun to move across the firmament. The last buildings fell behind, and flowers spilled all over the ground, lending color to the crumbling scenery. 

A new landscape revealed itself. Animals of all shapes and sizes moved through the lush woods, drinking from crystalline rivers. Far beyond, titanic beings crossed the horizon, their scales catching the light in shifting shades. I pointed at them, awe stalling my breath, trying to form words that could carry the weight of what I saw—but only strange sounds escaped me. Anahí laughed and put me out of my misery.

“Cave illustrations from long before the Cataclysm depict them. They’re dinosaurs.”

“I thought they were…” I gasped.

“Myths? I bet you’ve heard the same about unicorns. There’s a whole herd grazing near those zebras.” She tilted her head in their direction.

Any shadow of the dread I carried faded as mist. My eyes stung as the child in me faced the wonders it had only imagined. I smiled from cheek to cheek, contemplating the breathtaking view and recalling the mysteries I had learned so far. It was worth praying to be her offering.

My precious jewel stood silent beside me, our arms brushing. Her smirk carried both pride and peace. She followed a golden dragon and its kin dancing across the sky. The solemn set of her face pushed aside the playful woman I had met during the procession and revealed the Sovereign of the Lostany. I fell more for her by the second.

After some time, Anahí noticed I was staring. I reached for both her hands and leaned towards them, placing a gentle kiss in her palms.

“I needed to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. Your skin seems genuine enough.” Her fingers smelled of the ripe peaches we had earlier.

“Aren’t you full of surprises?” Her foxlike gaze lingered on me. “Feeling tired already?”

“Not at all! I might not have Mayowa’s physique, but I have a lot of energy.” I flexed my right arm.

“Yours isn’t bad, silly!” She winked. “Shall we go, then?”

“Before that,” I flushed, “there’s something I want to ask. Why did you choose to revive those terrible moments before the Wheel of Earth stopped?”

She chuckled. The corners of her lips dipped as her night-sky eyes drifted to the floor.

“When we turn twenty-two, there is a seven-day week ceremony with all the Mages to pick the New Queen. Every youngling showed their skills, with no limits on how many times we can try to display our best, if we are satisfied with it.”

Anahí bit her lower lip.

“On the last day, we drink, dance, and play games. No matter who gets chosen, we know we are worthy of Her Legacy, and we cheer for one another. When the moon is at its highest, the Old Sovereign announces who will guide the women and be Lossar’s interpreter. And in a split second, you find out that your sisters and mothers believe you are the most fitting person to lead them for the next era.”

She took a deep breath and exhaled. With a swift movement, she created a small bubble that displayed scenes from Lostany and Sur Nam Khaar, where we had lived together that night.

“It’s a crushing responsibility, but I would never decline it. Since my family gifted me with their trust in a better future, I want to give all I’ve got and have dedicated my body and powers to keep the balance Lossar fought so hard to conquer. That’s why I wanted to live it again and carve that feeling into my bones.”

The magic ball disappeared, and she giggled. “I believe that sums it up.”

I held a lock of her hair, slid it behind her ear, and gazed into her dark eyes. Glimpsing her precious soul was another gift from the Goddess, sent to tighten our bond and narrow the distance between us.

“You are an outstanding woman, Anahí. I know you will become the most revered Queen in history.” I placed a kiss on her forehead.

“Flattering people with sweet words is one of your talents, after all.” She replied, caressing my face. “Come on, let me show you something.”

“Where are we heading now, Milady?”

“To where we were born.”

Editor: Lucy Cafiero