The single name was enough to ground Nyra. It went through the haze of her grief like a spear of sunlight through storm clouds.
Back in Thanad, the concept of the Goddess was the bedrock of their existence. She was the prayer on their lips for every fortune.
To have the deity of her childhood standing in the living room was a collision of realities that Nyra's exhausted mind struggled to process.
Instinct took over where logic failed and Nyra slid from the sofa and lowered her head.
"Your Grace, what do I owe your visit?"
Nyra didn't suspect it was a trick. She couldn't. The being before her radiated a purity that was impossible to fake. It was the scent of rain on dry earth. It felt like Home.
The Goddess sighed. She moved with fluid grace as she raised Nyra.
"Rise, Nyra. There is no debt between us. In this place, far from our soil, I am but a traveler."
