Cora: Rise of the Fallen Goddess

By A.L. Hawke

Abandoned. Imprisoned. Loved.

Cora is the goddess Persephone, living in Greece in the fourteenth century B.C. In order to shelter her from prophecy, her mother, Demeter, sends her away to Azure Blue. The young girl is raised and protected by the nymph queen, Nephrea, in a dreamlike crystal palace among azure trees and amethyst fields under a green sun. She's adopted into the Amazon code of honor, bravery, and righteousness. But Cora is not an Amazon nymph. And prophecy holds quite a different fate for her as she grows into adulthood—Hades, Lord of the Underworld.

Upon Persephone's fall, Demeter rages and threatens to freeze the entire world under ice and snow forever. Nephrea offers a sacrifice to quell her rage, but down in the fiery world below, it might be more than just the goddess who will need saving.

• Language: English
• Publisher: A.L. Hawke
• Release date: May 10, 2021
• ISBN: 9781953919038

A.L. Hawke

A.L. Hawke is the author of the internationally bestselling Hawthorne University Witch series. The author lives in Southern California torching the midnight candle over lovers against a backdrop of machines, nymphs, magic, spice and mayhem. A.L. Hawke has published eight books specializing in fantasy romance and science fiction.

Book preview

1

CORA

Wind rushed against Nephrea’s cheeks, flowing along her long, black hair under her scarlet helm as she swooped up and down over the purple sandy beaches of Azure Blue. Looking back, she could make out glimpses of her crystal palace, now a reflecting diamond shimmering blue and green over amethyst grass. She faced forward and squinted against a rush of air. After another buck and rise from her unicorn, the blue-green sky cleared and the turquoise sun changed to yellow. Her heart quickened, as it always did when the color of the sun changed. It told her she was leaving home and embarking on a journey. As she dipped her white-winged unicorn closer to the rocks and waves near the shore, mist sprayed over her while the water sped below her feet. But Antilus bucked up away from the sea.

Oh, Antilus, Nephrea said, laughing, petting the feathery side of her unicorn. Come on, girl. Take me closer. I want to feel the waves.

The water crashed upon jagged boulders, and she was still close enough to feel the spray over her lower legs and sandals. She was also close to Ambitus Pyramid. The great gilded wall was nearly an arm’s distance away from her right hand. Her unicorn bucked up again.

Just a little lower, girl? Nephrea asked with a chuckle. Huh? Please.

Antilus obliged and dipped down closer to the water, but Nephrea felt the unicorn resist.

You’re no fun, she said, frowning. Fine.

She leaned back and Antilus neighed. Nephrea felt her unicorn’s muscles tighten under the leather pteruges of her red armor as the unicorn shot up toward the blue sky.

Nephrea hardly needed a compass. The giant golden pyramid bordered everything along the northern shore. So tall it was that myth claimed the structure could be seen from the Greek empire in the north to its miniature model in Kher Neter of Egypt in the south. These pyramids bordered the antediluvian world, marking the site of the future great empires of man (so prophesied the young grain goddess).

Nephrea shielded her eyes as the sun’s rays reflected off the pyramid wall. She passed the structure, skimming Antilus close to the water once more. Then she rushed out toward the open blue sea. She cocked her head back but, from this far out, she could no longer make out her beloved blue lands.

Keep strong, Antilus. She petted its feathery hide. It’s a long flight, but I’ll reward you when we touch down.

It was near twilight when she finally spotted the isles of Hellena. Nephrea soared past beaches of yellow sand and over valleys of rocks, then grass fields, and along cliffs overlooking beaches, until she located the ruins of a temple with white marble columns. These ruins sat on one of the tallest cliffs, overlooking the sea. Doric columns were cracked and worn, and there was no ceiling. The marble ground, though glistening white as it reflected the sun, had foliage and even trees growing through the cracks. And at the farthest end, there was a pile of damaged marble atop a few steps, likely remnants of a statue of the gods.

She landed by the center of the rectangular marble floor and dismounted from her unicorn. Then, standing on the hilltop, she removed her red helm, tucked it under her arm, and gazed at the beach and sea below. The sun was dipping below the horizon, shining a beautiful orange-red.

Lovely, Nephrea said with a sigh. She brushed her long hair back. So lovely.

Antilus nickered.

Oh, I almost forgot. She turned back to her unicorn and pulled out a leather sack strapped over Antilus’s back. Then she laid a hand under her weary unicorn’s mouth, feeding her oats. You’ve served your queen well. And she chuckled and kissed her unicorn’s head.

She returned to the edge of the ancient temple and stepped down three dusty marble steps. She crouched down and picked up some of the soil beside her sandals, marveling at the cream color of dust as it poured through her blue-tinged fingers. Then she sighed. Last I touched this was with Amenhotep. Remember, Antilus? Oh, how I miss him. How long has it been?

The unicorn snorted. Nephrea chuckled.

Attica was a barren land. It consisted of rolling hills with a few open grass fields with trees as far as the eye could see. There certainly were no human settlements. She walked, in awe of the alien landscape, taking in the strange dark-brown, green, and yellow of the surrounding foliage, so different from the blue and green of Azure Blue.

She headed to a field of tall wild grass, which led into denser woods. In the forest, she found a large sheltering willow by a small trickling brook. Water flowed gently over round stones and boulders by her side. It was tranquil and would do nicely for the evening. So she pulled more things from her leather sack—tinder and stones—and gathered some branches and twigs from shrubs under the trees to start a fire. Antilus lay down on her side beside the large tree trunk, so tired from her long flight. The queen ran her blue-tinged palm along her unicorn’s soft hide. But as Antilus closed her eyes, Nephrea crept away, hunting for her supper while it was still twilight.

She checked her taut bow and ran her finger along some quills. She was a legendary archer and had won numerous competitions. And after the games, in the Amazon war she had slain a great many more men. Tonight, she caught a rabbit along a brook. Then she returned to her sleeping unicorn, skinned the rabbit, and skewered it over the fire. She ate under moonlight, leaning against Antilus and staring up at the night sky. Night outside her blue world was no different than in Attica—with the same stars in the dark sky—and no less beautiful. She stared up at the tiny lights while the crickets chirped until her eyes grew heavy.

The sunrise was as striking as the sunset. Fiery red and yellow light shone through the trees and awoke her. Oh, how I wish I could show Jaida this, Nephrea said in awe, blinking her eyes at the rising sun. Then she put her hand to her mouth. Antilus was still asleep. Slowly and quietly, she crept away from her unicorn.

She returned to the marble temple overlooking the beach, looking for higher ground to search the fields below again. She was looking for a settlement, perhaps more columns—something that gave a hint of the home of the grain goddess—but all she saw was the ocean on one side and rolling hills and forests on the other. She knew the gods were out there somewhere. According to her cartographers, these ruins marked the home of Demeter and her daughter. But they never said where.

She walked far, following a dirt path along the cliff over the shore. The dirt trail seemed man-made. It stood high, enabling her to gaze upon the open sea. But after hours of searching, there was no sign of the goddesses. She began to wonder if she would ever find them.

She returned to her makeshift camp, frustrated.

Then she recoiled back in shock. Her unicorn was gone.

Antilus?

She looked up at the blue sky to check the position of the sun. It was almost midday.

"Antilus? Antilus!"

She ran back and forth along the path. After running in circles, she cursed at herself.

Stupid! I’m so stupid! Why did I leave her alone?

But she spotted hoofprints beside dirt, heading deeper into a thicket nearby. She painstakingly followed broken twigs and leaves, which led her through orchards and open fields and back up toward the cliffs along the shore.

She approached an open grassy field covered with olive trees along a hillside. In the center of the trees, she found her unicorn. But Antilus wasn’t alone. A girl with long, flowing golden hair was feeding her unicorn grass and petting her. The girl had pale white skin and pretty features. She wore simple, almost peasant, clothes: a loose brown peplos down to her ankles and sandals. She jumped in fright at the sight of Nephrea. It might have been because Nephrea wore the red armor of her people.

Step away from her, Nephrea said.

The girl just blinked her bright-blue eyes.

Away. Nephrea gave a dismissive wave. Away, she repeated and, out of habit, she touched the hilt of her sword.

The girl narrowed her eyes. This is from Uncle, objected the girl, shaking her head. A monokera. She has wings.

Away. Nephrea walked up and pulled the unicorn’s head from the girl. Keep your hands off her.

What’s her name?

Nephrea mounted her unicorn. Then she looked down at the girl in amusement. Antilus.

Pretty. But not a pretty name. Antilus? That’s not pretty. Not pretty like you. Then the girl brought her hands to her mouth and laughed. Your hands are blue. And your ears are a bit pointy. You look funny. You have that stupid nymph color. The girl giggled. Napean? A nymph from Napea, right? Your lands are Azure Blue. Like your hands?

I am the Queen of Azure, Nephrea said proudly. Though it sounded weird saying it. She had only been crowned a few days ago. I’m Nephrea. Queen Nephratee of Azure. I am Napean.

You’re a nymph, the girl said. A queen? She put a finger to her chin. Hmm … you must be the princess I saved for Mother. Then she went back to touching Antilus’s soft feathers and humming.

Nephrea stared down, but the girl was mesmerized by her unicorn.

Persephone? Could it be? She looks so young.

Are you the young grain goddess? asked Nephrea.

The girl ignored her, touching the white feathers and wings of Antilus. So pretty. You’re so beautiful. I will have you as my own. I will call you Arion. That’s a much nicer name than Antilus. You and I shall fly together all over Mother’s fields. How do you like that, girl? Hmm? Won’t that be fun? What a treasure to find such a lovely horse. And she giggled.

Unicorn.

Whatever. The girl rolled her eyes.

Are you the young grain goddess? repeated Nephrea. Persephone? I need to speak with your mother.

If Mother’d permit me, I could have had you long ago, said the girl to Antilus, pouting. But no matter. This dumb nymph brought you. A nice offering. Such a wonderful creature. You shall be mine, Arion.

Are you Persephone?

She’d better be. She started infernally humming again while brushing the unicorn’s hide. It was infuriating. Nephrea sat proudly on her unicorn—a queen, a general—and this girl was acting like she wasn’t even there.

The girl finally looked up at Nephrea, furrowing her brow. My name’s Cora and you talk too much.

Can you bring me to your mother?

Cora looked at the unicorn and started humming again, which was really annoying.

How rude, the queen said with a chuckle, moving the unicorn’s head and guiding her horse a couple of steps away from the girl. This girl seems to think your master is a bother.

More like my new magnificent horse should be your master, said Cora, narrowing her eyes again. I told you to be quiet. Now shut up, stupid nymph. I warn you. Don’t yap anymore.

Nephrea laughed at the girl. I am Queen Nephratee Ambrosia of Napea. A nymph? Maybe. I suppose. If that is what—

Arion, Cora said, rubbing the animal’s hide again and running her fingers along the unicorn’s feathery wings. Yes, Arion fits you nicely. Then the girl giggled again and walked over to the front of the unicorn. She touched the tip of the horn atop the unicorn’s head with her finger. It was white—like ivory. But when one looked at it more closely, it seemed multicolored, glistening in the sunlight. It captivated the girl as she carefully ran her hand along it. Wait until I show you the other animals in my collection, Arion. I have a zaffre tiger. And two fairies in a cage. But no monokera. No, Mother would never permit it. Until now. She giggled and shook with giddiness. I’m so happy I found you. I have no creature so lovely as you.

She’s not yours to take.

If you don’t close your mouth, I’ll close it for you, Cora snapped, losing her smile. The girl’s eyes reddened. But then she turned back and continued to brush the unicorn’s side with her fingers.

Persephone. I have to speak with your mother. I am here to speak with Demeter. Sara. Is Sara here? I’ve traveled far. I’m from the great pyramid, south, in the distance. Nephrea pointed. Way over…

Cora turned and a sudden feeling of dread struck Nephrea. The girl’s red eyes stared, and it felt as if Cora was entering her mind. Nephrea grew dizzy.

Nephrea saw a vision of death. Her mother. She witnessed the procession through the grand palace of Azure that had taken place only a fortnight ago. Hundreds of weeping nymphs had crowded into the throne room at night, waving incense and carrying torches while marching beside the white-wrapped body of her beloved mother. They marched to the steps of a raised throne, which was empty. The act was meant to show respect for the passing of the founder of the nymph kingdom. But at the time, it felt disgraceful to Nephrea. To Nephrea, the empty chair did not symbolize her mother’s power; it symbolized her subjects’ belief that the chair would never be filled. That, without her mother, there could never be another leader like her.

The image changed. Nephrea now found herself sitting on the throne, wearing a long, flowing turquoise and violet robe with a thin gold crown on her head and a false golden scepter held in her right hand. A great ceremony commenced, with a couple hundred of nymphs crowding the room and taking a knee before her. And another line of nymphs, the Guard, wearing red armor similar to what she wore now, standing at attention on both sides of her throne. Her friends smiled and clapped. But many others turned away or looked up in contempt. She had friends, but also staunch enemies. That had been only a few days ago.

Perhaps it was the feelings of the dissenters that made her accept this idiotic quest? Nephrea knew the exchange had been fulfilled. Her mother had died for her. How could she return?

Cora’s gaze was mesmerizing. It had caused all those memories to rush back, and it filled Nephrea with dread. Cora seemed oddly disturbed too, as if she had shared the images with her. Nephrea felt so sad, then sick. She swooned, lost her balance, and fell from her unicorn.

"You shall learn obedience, nymph! shouted Cora. If I have to show you, I will. If I tell you to be quiet, be quiet. Shut your mouth! If I tell you to die, die! Understand? Know your place under me!"

Everything spun. Nephrea opened her eyes, and the little girl was crouched down, staring at her with creepy bright-red eyes. The teenager looked more like a demon with her red eyes shining behind pale skin. Nephrea raised her hand, but she could barely move. She felt Cora touch her belt over her leather skirt. Then Cora drew Nephrea’s short sword from her side and pointed the tip at her neck.

Another gift from us, Cora said, smiling a nasty grin. This one from my other uncle. Hades liked your mother, didn’t he? Red and blue, like the war clothes you wear and the weird shade of your palms. It is fitting that this sword should kill and draw men’s blood. I bet you used this weapon to kill men, didn’t you? Amazons—your war against men cost you your mother’s life. It cost you everything. All because of your blasphemy. Well, don’t blaspheme me. Don’t ever speak to me on your high horse again. Don’t pretend to be any loftier than the slave you are!

Well, Nephrea couldn’t say a thing. She couldn’t move.

You creatures are the greatest evil, raged Cora. "Challenging men under Lord Zeus. Why do you think Harmonia fell? Now you talk to me with that same insolence. Arrogantly sitting astride your horse. My horse! Perhaps I should use this sword? I’m sure it will cut your throat. Shall we see? Pity your armor didn’t come with protection over your neck—your weapons, another gift from my Uncle Hades, eh?"

Of course she was quite sure now that she had found Persephone. The girl spoke like an adult. It seemed grotesque in her childish body, but the girl was known to have been alive for centuries.

Nephrea leaned over, ready to throw up.

How dare you! Cora continued. But then she laughed an evil cackle, which, with her youthful high voice, was unsettling. "Do you realize, sarding nymph, that I can kill you with my very gaze!"

Yes. Nephrea realized that now. Nephrea tried to raise her hand again, but she barely had the strength to do it. She couldn’t speak.

Disrespect me? I may look young, turd, but I’ve lived longer, in my immortal life, than you. I know very well who you are. And… She chuckled again and stood up straight. Then she twirled the fabric of her peplos. And I will take your horse. What do you think of that? Fitting trade. You want to see my mother, give me your horse. What say you to that, Nephrea, Amazon queen of the slaves?

No, Nephrea said weakly. She could barely breathe.

The girl blinked her red eyes quickly and stared down at her.

Take me to your mother, Nephrea said, struggling to speak. If you kill me, you can explain that to her. Then she can punish you, you little brat.

Cora stared. But then she grew a sly smile and her eyes turned blue again. All right. She nodded. I’ll take you to her. But I don’t think you’ll fare any better with her, you stupid nymph.

2

A GODDESS

Nephrea had not been far from the goddess after all. Cora led her along dirt paths under trees and around brush and then through grassy fields—going only a quarter of a league inland—all the while, of course, guiding and petting her unicorn as if it were her own while ignoring the queen. After climbing a rocky hill, over some shrubs, beside olive trees, and along a dirt path around a cliff wall, they entered a vast valley of wheat. Nephrea had seen the field in the distance when she had surveyed the lands from the ruins, but she never would have imagined anyone living in the field. Only now did she spot a series of white stone columns similar to the ruins.

Cora moved her right hand over the wheat, touching the tips as they walked toward the columns. She closed her eyes. A figure materialized between two marble columns: a woman with long golden hair perfectly braided over a thin white peplos. She was far away, but Nephrea could see her closing her eyes and touching the grains. Cora opened her eyes and turned to Nephrea.

She’ll see you now. And Cora gestured for Nephrea to follow.

Thank you, Persephone.

Then I will have your horse, the girl replied with a nod, cocking her head back with a wily grin.

As she approached Sara, Nephrea admired yet another perfect specimen of beauty. The sun seemed to shimmer over the older goddess. Sara had fair skin and lovely features, like her daughter, and stood with her head high, as if looking down on Nephrea—even though the nymph was, in fact, taller. When Nephrea stood beside a column and was close enough to embrace the goddess, she dropped on one knee.

Cora scoffed.

My daughter tells me you wish to speak with me? asked Sara. Rise, Queen Nephratee of the Azures.

Yes, my lord.

Why do you bow to her but not me? asked Cora.

I bow out of respect, not out of obedience, child, replied Nephrea.

Sara merely smiled. What can I do for you, nymph queen?

Nephrea stared at the strange white glow seemingly emanating from the goddess. I seek my mother, Nephrea said. My people and I want to know if there is any way to get her back. We want to see if she can be revived in the same way she was healed after her stabbing. We will pay any price. Anything. Even… Nephrea met the gaze of the infernal girl. My own life. My people despair. There must be a way to save her. Can she be brought back?

No, Sara said with a faint smile.

Nephrea blinked and furrowed her brow. It had been said so coldly. Then she turned her head to the sound of snickering. The demon child was laughing at her.

Do not trouble yourself, Nephrea, said Sara, gesturing with her arms. Come join Cora and me for a dejeuner. I am life. Life comes from me. Man harvests grain—grain even you nymphs harvest. It rises from my fingers. So too from my daughter’s.

A glass chair materialized before Nephrea. The goddess sat down before her. Then Nephrea shielded her eyes as more light burst forth. As it cleared, she found herself within more white columns at the center of the field, the columns now surrounding them like a room without a roof. The walls between the columns seemed to glow yellow around transparent borders. And a small oak table bearing various breads and fruits materialized between her and Sara. She found herself sitting on a soft emerald-green couch with Cora at the far end, still smiling in mockery. She could see Antilus in the distance, outside the clear walls, wandering and chewing wheat. The floor was carpeted, but the carpet was sewn from grain.

Sara laughed at Nephrea’s expression. Welcome to my home.

A crystal bottle of red wine materialized before them on the table. Sara lifted the bottle and poured it into three glasses. Then she gestured to a silver tray of figs. What do you think of the queen, Cora? Sara asked her daughter as she picked up a fig.

Arrogant. Dumb. I don’t like her, Mother. I don’t like her at all.

It’s rude to say such things, Sara replied with a smile as she bit into the fruit.

It’s also rude to talk about your guests in front of them, replied Nephrea.

You and your people, Nephrea, Sara said with a laugh. So brashly uncouth. That is why my brother Hades fell in love with your mother, I think.

We live for ourselves, replied Nephrea with a shrug. We don’t answer to anyone, even the gods. That is the edict laid down by my mother.

Cora glanced at Sara with her eyelids fluttering in shock at the blasphemy. The little girl looked back and forth between her and her mother as if waiting for the goddess to strike Nephrea down. But such open talk was how Nephrea and her Amazons conducted themselves. Harmonia had taught the nymphs that it was better to die than submit to any god.

There was an uncomfortable silence. Nephrea glanced at her wine glass. It was the most beautifully fashioned crystal she had ever seen. It looked unreal, almost dreamlike. Back home, only the Mandrigel had known how to fasten glass so masterfully. The red wine glistened like a ruby inside the crystal. She wondered if it could be poison. It was almost too beautiful. Then again, Sara probably could do far worse than poison her. For manners’ sake, Nephrea lifted the wine glass and sipped it. It was the most incredible wine she had ever tasted.

Sara feigned a smile and then broke the silence, as if she had been waiting for Nephrea to take that sip. Your mother was strong. Cora and I are very sorry for you and your loss over her passing. Your people will miss her.

Nephrea dipped her head down low and nodded. Thank you, Demeter.

Harmonia was as stupid as her daughter, said Cora. She deserved to die. Cora still had an infernal grimace on her face, ready to start giggling like a demon again.

It was too much. Nephrea stared at the twerp and then, in a fit of rage, leaped up and struck Cora across the face. It happened so fast that it shocked the young girl.

Sara laughed.

Mother! said Cora, putting her head in her hands and crying. Oh, Mother! Mother! Did you see what she did! She hit me. Do something. I can’t believe this—

Why don’t you do something? You always look to me, Cora. You’re a goddess.

Cora looked up with hatred and malice as Nephrea continued standing over her. Cora’s eyes blazed red with fire once more. Then Nephrea could feel the girl entering her mind. She felt fear again, but the spell broke when she heard Sara’s voice.

Stop it, Cora, Sara said. Not in my house. You deserved it. What a dumb thing to say to someone who is in mourning over the loss of her mother.

She hit me! Cora replied, whimpering.

Nephrea had her hand on her short-sword hilt. She wasn’t sure if the sword would penetrate, but she’d fight the gods if she was forced.

Sit down, Nephrea, Sara said, sipping some wine with a chuckle. Sit. Don’t mind my daughter. She’s just a little girl.

She struck me! cried Cora. Are you going to let her do that! Oh Mother, she—

Harmonia cared for us more than herself! shouted Nephrea, staring at Cora. How dare you, you little witch! She was kind … And great, like your mother. She certainly was never stupid.

Yes. Yes. Sara put her hand up. Then she signaled for Nephrea to sit down again. Please. Sit. Harmonia was great, indeed. She was quite clever and never stupid. But then she put a single finger up. But … she was not kind. No. Sara shook her head. No, your mother was never kind. But she did wonders, no doubt. I remember your people living like apes, naked, along the Stratos before she rose to power. With the help of my brother, your people became quite powerful. Queen Harmonia was a fierce leader. But … she was never kind, Nephrea. No. Then Sara looked at her wine glass as if pondering her own words.

No, my mother was not kind. That was why this god killed her.

You better not make me help her, Mother. Cora’s eyes were still red. "You better not. I tell you, I won’t do it. I’d rather cut her in pieces and feed her to wolves than revive her blasphemous, stupid—do you hear me?—stupid mother! Then she narrowed her eyes and snapped at Nephrea, Stupid!" as if daring Nephrea to strike her again.

But Nephrea wouldn’t touch her. She still couldn’t believe she’d dared do it the first time, but she’d proved to herself that she was still in deep mourning.

There’s no way I’m healing anyone again, Cora raged on. "You know it hurts when I do that. I won’t help another one of them. I won’t. I hate humans and I hate nymphs. STUPID nymphs! Hear me!"

Calm down, deisa, Sara said softly. That’s enough. With a fake smile, Sara nodded at Nephrea again.

Nephrea turned from Sara. She stared outside.

Who did she hate more? The spoiled brat girl or this arrogant beast? She hated both. No, she hated all the gods, just like her mother had. But, unlike her mother, she hated Hades too.

Nephrea drank her incredible wine as she gazed at the wheat fields. She let herself be taken away for a moment by the beauty of the yellow lands, so different than her home. She so wished she could share the vision with her friends.

Meanwhile, by her side, the puerile little girl continued to cry.

Unfortunately, Cora’s right, Sara said, sipping some wine. I can’t do what you ask of me, Nephrea. Your mother made a deal with us. It was the only way for me to allow Cora to heal you. You were on the verge of seeing the Ferryman, but close enough for us to bring you back. Even if I wanted to, Harmonia has been dead now for too long. Sara squinted and steepled her fingers. "But … Perhaps, there’s a way you could see her. Perhaps."

Cora lifted her eyes from her hands, and the red shone like a lantern as she squinted in fury. For a price … maybe. If I were to grant such a wish, what would you give me in return?

For such a gift, repeated Nephrea, shaking her head in disbelief, what would I not give? To revive my mother? To touch and see her again? What … what do you want?

I won’t help her. Cora folded her arms and looked away from both of them. I won’t. Don’t you dare ask me to, Mother.

I asked you to shut it, Sara said, raising a finger. This is my final warning. Sara lost her phoniness for a moment and looked ready to hurt Cora. But then her fake grin returned for Nephrea. Death is the way of things. I can’t go about resurrecting all creatures. Imagine what would happen if I gave life to every fowl or beast that you hunted for dinner? Or resurrected the fig sitting before you on this table.

You’re immortal. It’s easy for you to speak like that. But for us—

You nymphs live for eons too, Nephrea, continued Sara. Centuries. You might be mortal, but you age slowly compared to humans. Of course, Cora over here has been alive longer than you. She remains young in my fields. How long a life is enough, Nephrea? Even goddesses … we may live forever, but how long is forever? Sara drank from her glass, thoughtfully, then turned to her daughter. What say you, Cora? Do you think we are immortal? Do you think Gaia will provide a floor to stand on, in the world to come, for our family for all eternity?

I don’t care.

Sara leaned forward and pointed at the Azure queen. Immortality is forever, but time is not.

What is it you want from me in return for bringing back our queen? asked Nephrea. I offer you anything.

I might be able to give you part of what you ask. Your people want your mother back, right? Perhaps I can allow you to see her. But I will not allow them to see her.

I don’t understand. I’m here to bring her back to Azure.

"I can promise that you will see her, but no other nymph. Your people will have to accept that."

My quest—

Come on, Nephrea, Sara said, laughing, "you’re their leader now. Have you been sent here to forfeit your crown? How dare they. You’re their queen. You don’t need to go on a quest to find their leader. Their leader is sitting right in front of me. If they don’t accept you, simply