The Awakened Kingdom

Ia grimaced. Maybe he was not fascinated. “It almost killed her, though.” He was looking at me.

“True.” Yeine watched me as well. “And what that means is that you cannot just empower any mortal, Shill, nor can you do it frequently. Certain conditions and circumstances must obviously be met, first, to facilitate the change; what those are, you will have to discover. So from here on, do try to exercise some discretion, why don’t you?”

I inhaled, delighted, because this was part of me, too. “I’m going to get really good at it.” And as I got better—“Oh, wow. I’ll be strong, one day.”

“One day, yes.” Yeine looked thoughtful. “Mortal life has always been, well, mortal. This universe that Nahadoth and Itempas and I have built is not eternal. There may be others, but when this one ends, mortalkind ends with it. But perhaps it need not end with death.”

We all fell silent at that, in wonder, in fear. I couldn’t imagine such a time ever coming to pass. But I understood this instinctively: because I existed, the end of mortal life—the rebirth of mortal life, into immortality—was possible. And if it was possible…

“I’ll work to make that happen,” I said, and even just this thought made me feel happy and right and full of light again.

Then I thought of something and glanced at Ia, and bit my lip. “But, um, maybe you could help me, Sibling, until then? I mean—you stopped me, when I would’ve spun myself away to nothing.”

He drew back, with an offended air. “I’ve done enough babysitting, Shill, thank you.” And with that he vanished.

I slumped, disappointed. Yeine shook her head and got to her feet, then leaned down to murmur in my ear.

“How convenient that you’re not a baby anymore. Isn’t it?”

I blinked, and then a slow grin spread across my lips. She winked, and straightened again. Well, then.

I put my hands on the table and pushed to my feet. “OK,” I said. “There’s lots to do! You mortals have to fix all the stuff that’s wrong with your realm, if you’re going to make it to the end of the universe.” I waggled a finger at Mikna, who lifted an eyebrow skeptically. Then I pointed at Eino. “You! Come with me. We have to find the other babies and make sure they do not wreck stuff.”

A pained look crossed his face; his little pet moon glowed white with amusement. “You barely know what you’re doing yourself, Shill.”

“That is beside the point. I know more than you do; that means it’s my job to teach.” I put my hands on my hips, pleased with this plan. “I can help them find their natures, too! That’s what I do now, see.”

“I’m not certain this is wise,” said Fahno; she had the same look on her face as Eino.

“Empowerment does not always wait for wisdom,” said Yeine, “though that will doubtless come with time in Shill’s case. Hopefully soon.”

“Yes, but will we survive until then?”

“Hey! I’m right here.” I shook my head, then went over to Eino. “OK. Calm down about being a god. You can still do mortal stuff if you want. Marry and make babies and lead revolutions all you want. Right?”

Eino blinked in surprise, then looked at Fahno, who stared back at him as well. He bit his lip and looked away for a moment. “Beba.”

Fahno took a deep breath and stood. “If you want nothing more to do with us, I will understand.”

He flinched. “No! I’m still Darre, Beba. I’m still clan.”

She hesitated, lowered her eyes. “You have a new clan now.”

He set his jaw. “I have an old clan.” He went over to her, took her hands. She squeezed his hands, her eyes overbright, and Arolu came over, too. Eino folded his arms round them both, shaking, and there were lots of tears and whispers of things that probably should have been said long before.

Quietly, beyond us all, I felt Yeine vanish, and knew why. Eino might be Darre now, but Fahno was right; his attachment to his mortal life would not last long. It was as Zhakkarn had said, and as Yeine had learned herself: they were too small, too ephemeral, to grasp the whole of what we were. In the end, we would always leave them behind.

But that would happen on its own, with Eino. I didn’t need to push. Let him make his own farewells to mortality; he had forever, after all. And after all, someday mortalkind would be better. I wouldn’t push them, either—but when they were ready, I would be there, waiting. I would help them all I could.

I won’t push any of you, see? I didn’t give you anything, and you don’t owe me anything. Your power is yours; it has always been there. I’m just going to help you reach it. What you do with it, from there on, is up to you.

Now come along, babies! Today I will teach you how not to smash planets by accident. Oh! And also: how to tell stories the Proper Way. You always have to finish with THE END, or Papa will give you such a look.

THE END.