Althea woke in a bed of moss and flowers. She had a silk blanket wrapped around her, and a pillow stuffed with soft down. It was almost as good as her heather-stuffed mattress in Lantris.
Her room was like a miniature park. There were natural benches and shelves grown into the flora, covered in vines and moss. There was what looked like a closet embedded in one of the trees with silk dresses hanging on the branches. There was even a natural spring where she could bathe. It was the most manicured, beautiful thing she had ever seen. She wasn’t surrounded by a clunky wooden box, crudely designed to keep her away from nature.
The sunlight came dimly through the canopy above, filtered through whatever protections the architects had arranged. She could feel the warmth of it on her skin. Even the living lanterns in the trees seemed to emit a faint wave of warmth.
She slipped off her dress, bathed in the cool stream and picked out a golden dress with flowers sewn embroidered all over. It was a very simple design, but she had never seen craftsmanship like it, even in Aridian fashion.
Cyrus had delivered her belongings to her, as promised. Her bag was worn out and scuffed from being stolen and toted around carelessly. Her bracelet was sitting on a mushroom stand close to it, as if on a pedestal. She snatched it up and tightened it around her wrist. Althea held on to her wrist for a moment, feeling the soft leather.
She went to open her bag to make sure that her ingredients were undisturbed. Inside, most of what she brought had been padded sufficiently so that her glass vials wouldn’t break. The vials looked to be intact, to her relief. She rifled through and found her traveling cloak, her silver, and rations all undisturbed. They must not have had the bag for very long, or the Artificers likely would have taken the silver and precious healing ingredients.
Althea sighed, hugging her bag like she was embracing a long lost friend. She felt like crying, but instead she laughed. She arranged the bag on one of the mushroom shelves and set out to find Cyrus. He was going to take her to meet Mother, after all.
When she emerged from her room, the layout was still foreign to her. She couldn’t quite remember where the labs were, but she was sure she’d find Cyrus there. She picked a direction and pranced along, excited for the day.
She saw villagers talking animatedly, still pointing and staring at her like she was a strange specimen in an experiment. Althea supposed she was.
The fruit globes didn’t glow during the day. Instead, the sun provided the main source of light. She could feel it humming on her skin, yet it was still dimmer than actual daylight would have been outside. Coupled with the warmth, the effect was a kind of hazy, dream-like environment. There were beautiful bugs and birds out that looked brighter and totally different than their glowing, nighttime counterparts. Althea took her time staring as she moved along, still taking in all the little details of Paradise.
She thought she was going in the direction of the labs, but she ended up lost in some kind of isolated wing of the village. It did look a lot like the layout of the lab she had come from, but somehow inverted. So she was probably in some kind of lab wing, but a different one.
Althea was about to turn back when she felt a slight tug. She turned around and looked at the layout again, noting that it was wrong, but still thinking that there was something this way that she should explore. She drifted towards the tug, overcome with curiosity. It got darker and darker further in the wing, tunnel-like in its construction. The doors were all made of that squishy membrane material like in Cyrus’ lab. The orbs became the main source of light again, and there were no villagers passing her on the trail anymore. She shivered.
After some time walking, fatigue crept up on her. She walked further still and eventually came across a door that looked no different than the others in the wing. She felt compelled to go in this particular lab, knowing still that Cyrus wouldn’t be inside. The membrane opened for her without her touching it. She walked inside and the layout was similar to the lab she had been in. It had walls full of compounds and notes, and a dome-like chamber at the end with pods. There was a stone lab table that ran the length of the hallway to the pod chamber. It was almost identical in layout, so it must have been standard.
Althea paced to the pod chamber, and there was no one in any of the pods, just the strange fluid that she had awoken in. She was compelled to move to the left and approach a random pod. It didn’t look particularly different. It just sat, large and unmoving like the others. She could feel the hum of compounds moving through the green vines and into each pod like a life bringer. Althea knelt and put her hand into the empty pod, feeling the materials swirl about, so complex and dense that her eyes watered. She didn’t understand entirely what they did, or how, but she could feel certain components that were familiar. It was an odd feeling, because at the academy she could identify almost any healing compound if she could touch it, and any human, animal or plant fluid. This was a concoction that someone had deliberately made. She was fascinated, but she was compelled to reach for the bottom of the pod, so she did.
She could feel a seam at the bottom, running the length of the pod like one of the membranous doors. As soon as she felt it, the fluid rushed from the pod into the vines as if it were being suctioned by some great current. Althea withdrew her hand as it happened, watching as the pod was drained entirely by the green vines. The membrane she felt at the bottom opened with a sucking noise.
The bottom of the pod opened up to a staircase. It was too dark to see the bottom of the staircase until one by one, glowing orbs that ran the length of the ceiling started to light. She could see the passageway go down, down, down. Even lit, there was no end in sight.
Her mouth dropped open. She very much wanted to know what was down there. Was it a secret lab? Why did they need to keep it a secret?
She was about to step down, when she felt a strong hand hold her back. She flinched hard and gasped, the spell broken.
Althea was on the floor of the lab now, smooth and cool, looking up at Cyrus. His expression was unreadable and frightening.
“Althea,” He said with a calculated calmness into her mind. “I did not mean to startle you.”
Althea sucked in another breath, “Is that so?”
The pod door closed and it began to fill up with fluid again.
Althea stood up, running a hand through her unruly curls, confused.
“What are you doing here?” Cyrus asked gently, but with an edge of cold neutrality.
It took a moment for Althea to process the question. “I don’t know.”
“You must have gotten lost,” Cyrus offered, putting a hand at her back. “Let me guide you back. I bet you’re hungry.”
Althea nodded, shaken, and looked back at the pod that was no different from the others yet again.
She thought that she had wanted to ask a question, but she couldn’t quite remember what it was.
“You were going to ask when we were going to meet Mother,” Cyrus reminded her.
“That must have been it.” Althea laughed, nervous, but not sure why.
Cyrus took Althea to another carefully decorated breakfast restaurant, asking how her living quarters were. Althea ate the delicious food and smiled, telling him they were lovely. Everything was lovely. She was excited to meet Mother.
It was a long, but pleasant walk to Mother’s chambers.
“What’s she like?” Althea asked Cyrus.
He seemed to consider this, walking beside her. “Have you ever loved someone so completely but felt so small in their glorious presence?”
“Yes, I suppose.” Althea frowned, thinking of Isold.
“What was your mother like?” Cyrus asked.
Althea’s eyes widened at that.
“Was that inappropriate? I apologize.”
“No, it’s not that.”
“Ah, you are surprised because I have not yet asked you a question so personal.”
“I am capable of answering your questions out loud, you know,” Althea said, not truly annoyed. “Can’t you just read my mind and pluck out memories of her?”
“No. I can only read your surface thoughts – what runs through your head at the time.” Cyrus clarified.
“Interesting. So you have no idea what my past is like?”
“Well, when you were in stasis in the tank, I was able to discern parts of your past then. In a chemically induced coma, sleep, or other types of unconsciousness, and with the proper connections, I can read quite a bit more,” Cyrus explained.
“Proper connections? Do you mean the strange compounds in the pod fluid?” She asked, quickening her pace unintentionally.
“Slow down,” Cyrus said, smiling. “There’s no hurry.”
“So then you’ve seen my mother?” Althea asked.
“I’ve seen her, yes. Brown hair, gregarious. The day she met you at the orphanage, there was warmth in her eyes right away. You were easy to love.”
Althea smiled, remembering her mother fondly. The last she had seen of her, she was cooking up some eggs for breakfast. Her brown hair was tied up and streaked with silver. She smiled, crinkles now at the corner of her eyes and mouth from years of happiness. She had kissed Althea goodbye before she went to the academy for the day, gave her some silver to celebrate with Arévis. It wasn’t all that long ago, but seemed it seemed like an era ago, like an entirely different world.
“You loved her,” Cyrus stated.
“Of course. She was my mother.” Althea said. She felt a sudden scrape on her upper arm and noticed that she had walked into a tree branch.
“Wasn’t paying attention,” she mumbled. The scrape had drawn a small line of blood.
“It happens,” Cyrus waved off, intent on leading her through the wide trail.
Althea wondered if she should bandage it. Cyrus hadn’t said anything about it, though, and he was usually quite accommodating. It wasn’t that serious.
As they approached what appeared to be a massive, membranous door, Cyrus stopped her from rushing to it, with an outreached hand blocking its entrance.
“Forgive me, Althea, but there is something I must show you before you enter.”
Althea huffed, frustrated. “What is it now?”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to meet you this morning, but it was because the others woke up…” Cyrus said, bowing his head and avoiding her gaze.
“Arévis?” Althea whispered, hopeful.
Cyrus looked as if he wished to answer, but two people approached from behind a thicket of trees.
Althea felt a surge of rage as she watched the two thieves cautiously approach her.
Cyrus kept himself between her and the two siblings.
“Althea, remember what I asked of you?” Cyrus reminded her.
“Yeah, yeah, no violence,” Althea snapped. She looked the two up and down as fire flooded her veins.
The girl and her brother were dressed like she was, in the simple, quality materials. It highlighted how small they were.
“Althea, right?” The girl asked. She even had the decency to look sheepish.
Althea folded her arms and glared rather than answer.
“Well, um.” The girl cleared her throat. “My name’s Kirra and this is Kaleb.” She gestured toward her brother.
The boy looked terrified and nodded slightly, his eyes wide.
“Your names. How interesting,” Althea goaded.
Cyrus gave her a disapproving look.
“We’re sorry,” The boy murmured.
“What was that?” Althea shouted.
“You heard what he said,” Kirra snapped. She put a hand to her forehead and sighed. “I mean, he said sorry. I’m sorry too.”
“For what?”
“For stealing your stuff,” Kirra exhaled, patience running out. Althea didn’t pretend that she wasn’t enjoying it.
“Well, she’s the one who’s smirking,” Kirra said under her breath to Cyrus.
“What about for holding a knife to my throat and threatening to kill me and my best friend?” Althea continued, her voice wavering only a bit.
“Yes, for that too,” Kirra capitulated, looking away.
Kaleb was staring resolutely at the ground, his face a mask of contrition.
“And for leaving us to die,” Althea couldn’t stop herself from saying.
Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.
Kirra scoffed. “You weren’t going to die. Clearly you were capable survivalists—”
“I wasn’t!” Althea yelled.
“Okay, we’re sorry for that too,” Kirra said, putting her hands up. “But you made it here just fine, didn’t you?”
“Are you always a horrible brat when you apologize?” Althea prodded.
“Yes,” Kaleb said under his breath. Kirra elbowed him.
“What? You are,” he snapped at her, rubbing his arm.
Althea smiled a little at that.
“Okay, are we good now? Can you please not burn us to death with your scary mage powers?” Kirra asked, looking oddly sincere with her huge eyes.
Althea kept her arms tightly folded. “I’ll think about it.”
Cyrus gave her that look again.
“Oh, is that not good enough for the thieves?” Althea rolled her eyes.
“Can you at least try to get along with them when we go to see Mother? They’ll be accompanying us,” Cyrus said.
“I’ll wait until they’re done,” Althea replied.
“Mother’s time is not to be wasted. You will go in with them,” Cyrus said firmly.
“Fine,” Althea snapped, furious.
“So will you please get along—”
“You can’t make me,” Althea raised her eyebrows and marched toward the door.
Kirra sighed. Kaleb kept his eyes downcast and his shoulders pointed inward.
Cyrus let them approach the door and then gathered them around close.
“Mother is to be treated with the utmost respect. She is the creator of our world and the keeper of peace.”
“We know who she is,” Kirra said.
Althea scrunched her brow. Why did Kirra and Kaleb know who she was? Is this why they came to the forest?
She was about to ask, but Cyrus led them through the membrane that opened for him as if on command.
The chamber was sprawling and empty of other people. There were pods of differently colored fluids strewn about in various organic sizes and shapes, and a mass of the green vines that acted as veins. The room was warm and filled with various flora and fauna of Paradise’s creation—perhaps Mother’s creation.
In the center of the room was Mother herself, sitting atop an approximation of a throne. Though instead of gold or jewels, the chair was a mass of living tree-like textures and vines. The roots and green vines snaked their way across the room, connecting to the pods, the ceiling that led out the door, and perhaps countless destinations that Althea could only contemplate.
Mother was clad in an artful array of flowers and greenery that in no way hid her nudity, as was fashionable here. But the first thing that struck Althea was that she seemed to be in some way attached to the mass of vines that enshrined her head like a crown.
The four of them were given little time to take in the awe of such a sight, and Cyrus led them further inside where he knelt before Mother as any good creation should.
Kirra and Kaleb soon followed, kneeling in unison with an arm gesture that only they seemed to know.
Mother looked to Althea expectantly. Slowly, she knelt, not knowing what this so-called creator was capable of. Was she an immortal goddess like Isold?
Mother nodded, pacified.
“You may come forward,” she spoke in a clear, melodious voice. Her tone was clipped.
The four of them approached cautiously, Althea behind the others.
She raised her chin and appraised them.
Up close, Althea admired her deep golden skin and chestnut hair. She resembled many of her creations in Paradise.
“With the help of this powerful pyromancer, you’ve managed to break into my domain.” She tipped her head slightly towards Althea, but otherwise sat stock still.
“Cyrus tells me this was coercion on your part, Althea.”
Althea nodded slightly, hesitant to speak.
“W-Why was Ezra trying to get in?” She finally managed. “Isn’t he one of your children?”
There was an uncomfortable silence where Mother pursed her lips.
“Ezra was banished for attempting to destroy Paradise. Obviously I cannot allow that.”
Althea could sympathize with her reasoning. He seemed too dangerous to let inside—but then how was it acceptable to let him roam free elsewhere?
“What if he hurts someone else?” Althea entreated.
“That’s none of my concern.”
It seemed to Althea that it should be.
“So you create all these,” Althea searched for the right words, “enhanced beings, and you just let them roam—free to hurt people whenever they please?” Althea accused.
Mother scoffed at that.
“You speak as if you are not such a creature, daughter of Anvindr and the Aridian pirate, Mahira. It isn’t a crime to create such a being, and it certainly isn’t to let them out into the world.”
Althea gasped. “You know who my parents are?”
“Were,” she corrected. “I have analyzed your code. Imagine my surprise at finding that you were the daughter of Hadyn’s descendent and the God of Storms himself.”
Althea’s hands shook. Even Kaleb and Kirra looked at her as if she were some kind of abomination.
“Powerful beings have existed on this earth for thousands of years. Of course the matter has always been contentious to the less gifted.”
Althea hadn’t considered that her very existence was threatening, yet she had treated Ezra with the same prejudice. However, the distinction remained firm in her mind that she didn’t intentionally hurt people—at least not if they hadn’t tried to hurt her first.
“But they’re still dangerous. The seraph wars entailed countless bloody battles between gods and their offspring, and seraphs vying for power amongst each other. It decimated the population.” As Althea said this, the realization came upon her that seraphs were a threat to everyone. And if her parents really were a god and a seraph, that included her.
“It’s interesting that you bring up the seraph wars. It only reinforces my decision to govern my own seraphs in isolation rather than have them interact with the barbaric hostilities of the outside world. Soon you will see the beauty of this delicately balanced harmony I’ve created.
“That being said, I do all that I can to keep those like Ezra from being created in the first place. It is not my wish to create powerful seraphs only to have them repeat the mistakes of their ancestors in the outside world. I’ve learned from my own grave mistakes in the early construction of Paradise.”
She stood in silence for a moment, all questions about Paradise wiped from her mind. The revelation of her parents and subsequently her own identity wasn’t something she was prepared to hear about here and now in this strange place. She didn’t notice Cyrus approach, but he put a hand on her shoulder. It did little to ground her from her racing thoughts.
She couldn’t begin to figure out what questions to ask or how to ask them. Althea was grateful when someone else spoke.
“Revered Mother,” Kaleb spoke softly in the lull, “We have come to ask for your help.”
“I know,” she said. “You want me to help your failing kingdom. You must be forgetting your history.”
“We didn’t forget,” Kirra chimed in. “But you’re the only one who can help with the epidemic. You are the legendary Goddess of the Plague, aren’t you?”
At this, Mother laughed. It was a looping, musical sound.
“I haven’t been called that in over a century.”
“So will you help?” Kaleb insisted.
“Why should I?” All mirth left her voice. “I was banished from Gaither for the very reason I’m a legend. And now that you’ve had a taste of this dark age—no magic to help your dying people—now you come crawling to me as if the last royal line of Gaitherian kings haven’t blasphemed my name?”
“King Gaither is foolish,” Kaleb hissed. “We’re asking you, as citizens.”
“We don’t agree with the king!” Kirra cried. “You’d let our entire people suffer for the mistakes of our leader?”
Mother looked from Cyrus to the siblings, something hidden behind her long, narrow eyes, green and nearly identical to Iliana’s.
“Whether or not the cries of Gaitherians move me any longer, I cannot go. My children need me.”
Althea looked to Cyrus to see if this was true.
His eyes were downcast as he stood, mute in more ways than one.
“What, will everything here die without you?” Kirra said sarcastically. She seemed to realize her rudeness a moment too late.
“Do not speak of things you do not understand, child,” Mother said, her voice pitched low. “You insult me with your barbaric ignorance.”
Cyrus looked at Kirra’s petrified face, and they must have exchanged thoughts because Kirra appeared pacified afterward.
Althea spoke, her voice still shaky, “If you don’t mind me asking, I would like to know more about this place.”
Mother’s focus shifted slowly from anger to Althea’s honest inquiry. “Cyrus has told me that you have many questions. In time you will know Paradise as my children do. I will answer what I can now to ease your mind.”
“Why did you create this place?” She asked.
Mother sighed. “After the great plague of Gaither, my guild was forbidden by King Gerhardt I, who staged a coup against his predecessor. Gerhardt feared my influence had grown too great. With the adoration of the people, and my extraordinary talent for green magic, he thought I wanted to steal his crown. I wanted only to spread my discoveries to help the Gaitherian people ascend as I had. But that was no longer achievable when fear had taken control.
“Rather than fight against such nonsense, I left at Gerhardt’s demand, and took my brightest followers with me. Together, we created this place as our own garden of enlightenment. Here there is no fear to stifle our greatness. We are protected from the evils of outside affairs. I aim to protect this place through whatever means necessary.”
“So… your magic and great knowledge were rejected?” Althea asked.
Mother nodded.
“Why were The Artificers trying to get in?”
Mother looked to Cyrus and frowned.
“I see. They were your purpose in coming here—why you got caught up in this mess. They’ve come to steal our secrets. That’s what Artificers do.”
Althea thought that Mother had wanted her knowledge to be spread.
“What do they want to use it for?”
“I don’t know or care. World domination, perhaps? I hear that’s always in fashion.”
“What if we… took a small piece of your knowledge to help with this… plague?” Althea asked cautiously.
Mother smirked. “Why do you care what happens to Gaither?”
“I care about what happens to everyone,” Althea explained. “I’m a healer.”
“How noble,” Mother tapped a finger on her woody throne. “I once thought as you do. It’s been a long time now. I’ve learned that it’s better to gift the enlightened and let the ignorant wallow in their misery.”
Althea grimaced in distaste.
Kirra moved forward, but Kaleb grabbed her arm. They whispered to each other furiously for a moment.
“What can we give you in return to change your mind?” Kaleb asked.
Mother seemed intrigued by his response.
“What makes you think you could acquire anything I would want?”
“We don’t presume, but—” Kaleb started.
“Because we go into the outside world a whole lot more than you do. We know how it works and how to navigate it. And we’re kickass thieves. Ask that one,” Kirra said, gesturing to Althea.
Mother looked almost amused, if unimpressed.
“Very well, then. Here is your task if you can manage it: bring me someone of the Orsanian bloodline with rare magical talents. There are only a few codes I have yet to collect that interest me.”
Kirra and Kaleb exchanged confused looks. Even Althea had no idea what she was talking about.
“Cyrus is one such specimen.” Mother nodded towards the telepath as a reference. “Orsanians were an old tribe that lived near what is now Volarach. The goddess Ura and the goddess Nora both descended from this tribe. You might find an Artificer with such talents, if you were to look hard enough.”
“So you want us to kidnap someone?” Kirra laughed.
“You could bribe, coerce, or trick them into coming for all I care.” Mother’s body remained unmoved on her bizarre throne.
“If we find such a person… what will you do to them?” Kaleb asked.
“They will live among my people in Paradise. I will extract their code and use its secrets to create better specimens. Each of my children is created with a special role in mind to help Paradise run smoothly.”
Althea felt a creeping uneasiness.
“How do you do that exactly?” She asked.
“It’s simple. There is an exchange of fluids in the recovery tanks that you all awoke in. I extract samples that way. It’s painless.”
Althea’s blood ran cold.
“So you have my… code? My essence?”
“Each of your codes. I have them all.”
Somehow Althea felt violated, even though she hadn’t experienced any unpleasantness or pain, just as Mother had assured her.
“Your code is very special, Althea. I made some adjustments to selected dormant traits that have been waiting to be unlocked, along with Arévis’. Any more adjustments, though, and we’d have to consider surgery. Unfortunately, there is only so much I can do once a body is already grown.
“Surprisingly, yours and Arévis’ codes are quite different. She happened to inherit most of Anvindr’s abilities, with almost none of Mahira’s. You, however, inherited Mahira’s abilities, and a few of Anvindr’s. It’s impressive that you can bend the atmosphere as you do to create a lens. We can talk all about the details more when you’re fully inducted.”
Althea’s breathing increased rapidly and she put a hand to her mouth. Mother must have still been talking, but she simply couldn’t process the rest while already dealing with the cascade of horror.
The soft green glow of bioluminescence blurred in her vision. Mother looked like some kind of plant atop her pulsing mass of organic life, whispering to each and every vine where to give its offerings. She was a part of the whole structure, connected through her body and head like a parasite. It was suddenly sickening when before it had been intriguing.
Mother must have stopped talking.
“I’ve told her to give you a moment,” said the soothing voice of Cyrus in her mind.
“What have you done to us?!” She could distantly hear the outraged voice of Kirra.
“Nothing to you, child. You and your brother have inherited no special abilities. You’re just human.” Mother’s voice was blanketed heavily, as if Althea were under water. It felt like she still in one of the pods.
“Wh-why did she—? She can’t just—you can’t—what right did she have?” Althea said to Cyrus, shaking and backing up towards the exit.
“She’s only enhanced what you’ve already been born with. It’s nothing drastic.” Cyrus assured her, though he scrunched his eyebrows slightly in worry.
“What did she—what has she—”
“Just breathe. It will be alright.” Cyrus clutched her shoulders and rubbed. “Look at your cut from earlier.”
Althea glanced at her arm, only to see the slight residue of blood over seamless skin.
“Did you do this?” Althea looked Cyrus dead in the eye.
Cyrus paused for a moment.
“I do what mother asks of me,” Cyrus said, entreating her to be calm with more gentle rubbing.
Althea jerked out of his grip and stumbled onto the ground, running her hands over her own arms as if there was some invisible cut she had yet to find.
She didn’t know how much time passed before she came back to the present moment.
“Hey. Are you alright?” It was Kaleb. He had knelt in front of her. Kirra stood behind him with her arms crossed and an unsettled look on her face.
“She altered me,” Althea said with no expression. “And Arévis.”
“Althea,” The voice of Mother broke through the haze.
“Forgive my presumptuousness. I thought it would be simpler to have the procedure done right away so that you could better fit in with your peers as soon as you woke up. I thought only that it would help you adjust.”
Althea rubbed at her temples.
“Adjust to what?”
“Your new home.”
Althea took a moment to breathe deeply and collect herself. She stood.
“This is not my home,” she said.
“You’ve never had a home. You’re an orphan,” Mother argued.
“I had a family: a mother and a father who I love very much.” Althea’s heart wrenched as she said it.
“No. Those were surrogates—just the people who raised you. Arévis is your family. She’s your twin sister. Didn’t you think it was odd that you were both placed in the orphanage at the same time?”
“They told us we had different birthdays,” Althea parroted, thinking of all the oddities of her arrival at the orphanage.
“They must have been hiding you from Hadyn. Perhaps he thinks you’re dead.”
“What happened to my parents?” She demanded.
“I don’t have many sources for news from the outside world,” Mother said, eamining and then picking at a fingernail, “but from what I heard, Anvindr broke the Holy Law and Ura came down to exact justice upon him. She killed him for his crimes. I believe Mahira was killed by Hadyn, though I’m not sure why. Perhaps she prevented him from collecting his descendants.”
“You said I was a descendent of Hadyn. Doesn’t that mean she was too?”
“Yes. I heard she was a gifted mage as well. I would have liked to look at her code. Fortunately I have yours.”
Althea felt like her body didn’t belong to her, like it had been pried open and peered at without regard for her ownership of it.
“You had no right to take pieces of me and alter me without my permission,” Althea said with barely-contained outrage.
“Well, be that as it may,” Mother huffed, “The process isn’t reversible. Think of it as a gift.”
Althea’s blood boiled.
“That’s enough for today. I have work to do. Cyrus, please escort them out. Kirra and Kaleb—you may stay until Arévis wakes up, and then you will leave Paradise.”
