“You forgot a bedroll?”

Amelia stands before me in the small kitchenette of my home, surrounded on all sides by mushrooms and herbs that Jun has set down to listen to the conversation, her arms crossed. Outside the little house, there is the ongoing percussion of nails being hammered into the exterior of the home. Rod and Willard had taken it upon themselves to build me a ladder and seal some of the holes on the exterior of my home before they built a roof for their own shed–they were even excited to hear that I might have someone that could help build the roof professionally. I hang my head. “I was…”

“Nervous?” Samantha supplies, twisting a root around a bushel of lemongrass that Jun intended to hang in the rafters for drying.

“Yes,” I say, relieved that someone understood.

“That’s dumb. When you need something for yourself, you need to be able to ask for it.” Lasis grumbles from their cross-legged space on the floor, shelling the nuts they’d found.

Heat threatens to redden my cheeks but I hold firm. “No, it isn’t,” I grumble.

“Well, at least Will and Rod have their nails.” Amelia says with a sigh, making me feel entirely more ashamed of myself than is probably warranted. Wasn’t I their master?

The thought makes me smile as I look around, my little home filled with skeletons that have just stuffed it, brimming to the windows, in foodstuffs found in the forest. Henry sits in the door, their bulk too large to enter, but nonetheless wanting to be a part of the goings on. As much as my contract with them was to serve and protect them from harm, they took their end of the contract just as seriously. I’d almost literally raised myself a whole family. They didn’t need to eat, and yet here they were, without my say-so, preserving all the food they had foraged for me in the woods that day. These bodies that didn’t need sleep or stasis, yet worried about my ability to rest and recover.

My heart felt like it would burst at the very thought. I grip their bones in my arms, gathering them into a group hug. “Thank you.” I whisper.

Amelia goes rigid beneath by hold, but pats my back. “What for? Yelling at you? I can certainly do more of that.”

I steel a secret smile into my heart and release them. “Yes, continue to do that.”

Lasis returns to their seat on the floor and taps their fingers on their femur. “Lady Sybil, I hope you don’t mind but…” they hedge for a moment, seeming shy. “I had a feeling you might not return with a proper blanket so…”

“Come on, len. Go ahead and show her what you made.” Jun presses gently.

Made? I don’t need to wait very long to learn what they’re talking about. They dash outside, and I hear them speaking in low tones to Rod and Willard who have ceased their hammering. Lasis returns with a folded sheet made of moss and grass.

“It still needs to be dried out, it’s meant to be a carpet later.” they say, shyly, “But if you need it tonight–”

I take it in my hands and thumb over the beautiful weaves. “How did you do this?” I ask, in absolute awe.

Lasis shrugs.

“They used to be a weaver in life,” Samantha quips. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

“It certainly is,” I murmur, unfolding it carefully to get a better look.

“Let's set it by the stove and let some of the moisture come off of it,” Jun suggests. Lasis takes the rug from my hands and folds it over one of the drying racks Jun built sometime during my absence that day.

“Thank you.” I say, feeling more heart-heavy than I did even twenty minutes ago.

“Of course,” Lasis says before plopping back onto the ground to deshell some more nuts.

Henry shifts loudly and I look up to see Roderick sidling through the door. “That should do it for now, Lady Sybil. We’ve gathered some extra wood alongside the shed for the roofers when they come out.”

I nod. “That’s great,” I tell him.

“It’s still midday, are there any other tasks you want us to attend to?” He wipes down his finger bones.

“Is it too much to ask for you guys to rest?” I ask incredulously.

“Yes.” They say in unison.

“Okay.” I set my hands on my hips. “I have to commit some of our friends to the earth–”

“Henry found a good space for just that, my lady,” Samantha offers. Henry nods shyly.

I smile, “Okay. Amelia, Lasis, would you guys come with Henry and me?” I ask, “The rest of you can put our brand new plow to some good use, if you wish. I’d like to start getting some sowing done before it gets too warm.

Roderick nods. “I’ll grab Willard, he’s getting restless.”

“Already?” I groan, and Jun chuckles.

“I’ll get some lunch made up for you when you return. You’ll likely need a rest.”

I pat their arm, “Thank you, Jun. Well, shall we get moving?”

The ceremony to commit the others to the earth was a simple yet heartwarming ceremony.

The remains that we had gathered the day before were laid side-by-side in a short row under the eaves of old trees. The wheelbarrow came in handy once again to transport them through the forest and into the cheerful, serene grove that Henry had found. The soil was soft and pliable, easy to cut into with the rusty shovel Willard had found the night before. Amelia, Lasis, and Henry prepared the bones by finding flowers in the area, tucking them around the bodies while I dug. Henry gently set each bone into the ground, gingerly pressing them into the soil like seeds, and we spread flowers in and around them.

I gather up the energy from the earth and wrap it around the bones in a wreath of gentle, glittering magic. My voice sings out:

“Blessed are you, great earth,

Who gathers us within her embrace;

Who fills us with her energy,

And beyond the veil hides her face.

I, with these souls, commit to you,

O holy one of green and brown,

The same energy that you hath trusted,

To your loving arms within the ground.”

In harmony, the souls within the bones thrum with the same energy, twining around mine in their own unique shades of color. They swirl into the ground, scattering like firecrackers dancing in their freshly dug graves. Thank you, they whisper, gently in to my ear, as if along a breeze.

“With the power you have given me,

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O Mother, O Sister, O Daughter, O friend.

I commit these souls to you,

May never again their energy lend.

Allow them rest, my goddess,

And passage through your pine gates

Into the next world, the next lifetimes,

Whatever their fates.”

The magic settles, and I am filled with an overwhelming exhaustion, having drained my own mana into the ceremony. My knees sink into the loam, and I feel the earth come up to meet me, wrapping her energy around me. My eyes glisten.

“Thank you for all of the time you have given, and spent with the people who came before me,” I whisper to the bones. “Though I did not meet you, did not know you, I am honored to be your last rites.” From my belt purse I pull a small vial with blue liquid and dribble a few drops from its lip onto the bones below. “Sleep easy, my friends. I’ll see you in the next life.”

The last words are spoken as a muscle memory, I realize, though I know I won’t get another chance at this life. They are the words one says in a final commitment ceremony, and in some regards, I mean it. Whatever lay beyond that Great Chasm, down that beautiful river into whatever is Next, I hoped I could meet these souls again. These souls and the souls of the bones around me, the friends and comrades I had made along the way. Henry and Lasis helped shovel the earth back into place and Amelia bent to wrap her bone-arms around me. I didn’t realize I was crying. I lean into her ribcage and let the feelings take over me. I don’t know if it’s the release of energy, the regular heavy emotions I get when I do a commitment ceremony, or if it’s the realization that I will never get another shot at life. I will never reincarnate, my bones will never be used–especially if the invading kingdom still, well, invades. I think above all, it’s the release of the control I have on all of it.

I pull away from Amelia and I dig my fingers into the earth, all the way up to my wrists. Henry and Lasis halt in their work, watching me with surprise. Somewhere deep inside, I find my voice. This is the last thing I need to say before the end, before the beginning: lest I ever lose track of my duty. “Goddess, I commit this last lifetime to your works, until I return to your soil.”

“I wondered when you’d get around to that.”

All of our heads whip up at the small voice coming from the treeline.

A small figure in gray clothing walks toward us from out of the dark of the overgrown evergreens, stepping over needles with small limbs and pale skin. Her hair is long and silver, twisted into wild braids that reach past her shoulders. Her face is impassable, but her slate yes are knowing. My mouth goes dry. “Wha–?”

“Sybil Whitman, whose timeline has been reset, I have been waiting for you.” Her voice is like that of a child’s, but it also bears a weight: a heaviness that might pass as agelessness.

“Who are you?” Amelia asks for me.

She ignores my construct, taking another few steps toward the open grave. She gathers another handful of soil and lets it pass over her palm onto the bones below. “Another blessing, from the Daughter Herself, may you pass with Arceme into the next life with ease. Rest easy,” she closes her eyes. We watch her carefully, each of us trying to decide how, or what questions to ask this child. She breaks her prayer with a nod to Henry and Lasis. “Please, continue. Sybil, come with me.”

Henry and Lasis glance between me and the child, but start back to work.

Amelia grips the edge of my shirt, but I shake my head. “Stay here with the others. If I don’t come back, finish the farm. Sell produce to the townspeople. Do this until someone else comes and can bind with you.”

“You will be the last one,” Amelia whispers, voice tight. “You are the last for all of us.”

I smile weakly at her, and the little girl stops at the edge of the forest, a look of annoyance gracing her features. “I’m honored.” I squeeze her fingerbones. “But do as I say.”

Bound to me, she must listen. She nods, and I feel the disappointment in her energy that blends in mine. I know she wants to come, to protect me, but if this little girl is the Goddess she claims to be… well… There’s very little anyone can do to save me.

I step into the brush with the little goddess, and let her lead me beyond sight of the grove.

“I’ve been meaning to get you alone–for a chat, but I haven’t had the opportunity.”

I watch her small back as she climbs over fallen trunks, bare feet sticking to needles and black soil. “Who are you?”

“I finally got my chance,” she says instead. “I have questions for you.”

I chew on my lip, frowning. “As a matter-of-fact, I’ve got plenty myself.”

She turns her head and regards me. She’s not the smiling sort, but she doesn’t look offended. “Touchy,” she says, twirling a braid around her thumb. She turns and scrambles up a large boulder, sitting at the top to look down on me. She crosses her arms over her knees and stares into my eyes. The unnerving sensation raises goosebumps along my arms and the back of my neck. “I need you to answer some of these next questions, and I’ll let you go back.”

“Who are you?” I try again, narrowing my eyes at her.

“You know who I am, Sybil. You’ve always known it. My sibling, Arceme, couldn’t help themselves and I intend to take full advantage of that fact.”

I frown. If this little girl was the goddess she claimed to be, what could I offer her?

She raises a finger at me. “You are going to tell me how this war is going to come about, and you’re going to help me stop it.”

I stare at her for a beat. Then a laugh bubbles out of me.

She frowns, the first emotion she has displayed on her pale features since she revealed herself to us in the grove. “What?” she demands, “What is so funny?”

I grin up at her and shake my head, trying to clear the giggles from my chest. It helps… barely. “You don’t know what happens?”

“You know I have the power to remove you from this earth–as though you had never existed. Not once, and certainly not twice,” she threatens, and I cannot help but hear the tone of a spoiled child being refused a sweet.

I bow low and turn around. “I’m not going to be any help to you with that, my Goddess,” I tell her over my shoulder. I start walking back to the grove, half-expecting for her to smite me. The lightning never comes, and trees don’t whip me into the air to be crushed by gravity. Instead, I hear her feet hit the ground and she runs toward me.

“Hey! Wait!!” She catches up to me, tugging on my shirt, pulling me to a stop. “What did they tell you?”

I smile at her. “Do you know what my last words to the world were, when I died?” I ask.

“No,” her brow furrows, wondering where I’m going with this.

“This is stupid.”

Her expression doesn’t shift. “What does that mean?”

“It means many things. More than anything, it means that I’ve already promised Arceme, if that’s who ‘reset’ me, as you say, that I would not interfere with this world’s timeline.”

Her eyes narrow minutely. “You’ve made an oath.”

“To not get involved,” I finish for her, nodding cheerfully.

She scowls. “How am I supposed to win, then?”

“How did you win the last time?” I ask.

“I didn’t.” I tap the side of my nose. Her eyes darken. “You just swore yourself to me, to honor me.”

“I can’t break an oath I’ve already made.” I explain, stepping over the log. I hear Amelia and Lasis talking in low voices by the grave.

“I will follow you around,” she says it like a threat, and I can’t help but smile.

“Sure, you can do that.”

“I mean it!” she grumbles, following along beside me with her fists bunched up at her sides.

“What kind of Goddess won’t smite me when she’s most angry?” I wonder aloud.

She frowns and gathers herself with a huff and a scowl. “I’m benevolent to a fault, I suppose. Can’t be killing everyone as I please. No one would worship me then.”

“That’s a fair point,” I tell her.

We breach the treeline into the grove and Henry straightens up, big fists curling defensively. I raise my hand, “It’s okay,” I tell them, and Lasis and Amelia seem to sigh in relief. They eye my companion warily. “Gents, this is…” I look down at the child-god.

She doesn’t look at me, scowling at some point ahead of us. “Vi,” she mutters, defeat heavy in her voice.

I bend at my waist and cup my hands around my ear. “Sorry?”

“Via,” she says it with annoyed deliberation.

I smile reassuringly down at her. “Nice to meet you, Via,” I tell her and her scowl eases some. “She might be staying with us for a little while.”

“A little goddess?” Lasis asks.

“Gods are finicky things,” Amelia grumbles, and Via shoots her a glare.

I shrug, “Finicky or not, I think that she’s going to stick around. We ought to keep her comfortable.”

“You can barely take care of yourself,” Lasis mumbles, and I laugh.

“Yeah, you’re right about that. We can let her use the blanket tonight and then I’ll take her into town tomorrow.” Via opens her mouth to argue, but must decide better of it, because it closes immediately. “Sound like a plan?”

“Should one of us go down with you?” Amelia asks.

“How would we do that?” Lasis frowns. They tuck the shovel over their shoulder and grinds a toe into the earth. “Unless one of you knows glamor magic.”

Amelia’s teeth grind, but she doesn’t say anything. “Anyways,” I say, extending the sound. “Let’s get going back before Willard and Rod plow an acre and Jun and Samantha cook everything including the house.”