"Hello again."

The voice reverberated in Emma’s mind, soft yet commanding, like the murmur of an ancient melody woven into the fabric of the void. She spun on her heel, her breath hitching slightly, searching for its source.

The void around her shifted, its boundless emptiness rippling as though responding to the voice. And then, it formed.

A throne loomed before her, massive and unyielding, carved from black stone that seemed to drink in the light. Its surface shimmered faintly with intricate filigree, delicate patterns that pulsed with a life of their own. Seated upon it was a woman cloaked in shadow, her presence suffocating yet serene.

Emma’s eyes were drawn to the figure’s hood, which hung low, shrouding her face. But it was not her features that struck Emma... it was the sheer force of her presence. The woman exuded a quiet majesty, her silhouette framed by a haze of twisting mist that shifted with an unnatural grace.

The figure leaned slightly, her lips curving into a smile that was both cryptic and strangely comforting.

The mist thickened, rolling across the void like a slow tide, swallowing the edges of the world Emma had thought she stood in. And yet, she wasn’t afraid. The void, the throne, the figure.. they beckoned, compelling her forward.

Emma took a step, then another, her movements careful but resolute. She stopped a short distance from the throne and bowed deeply, her ash gown brushing the invisible floor beneath her.

“My lady,” Emma began, her voice calm yet laced with reverence. “How may I address you?”

The figure tilted her head slightly, her smile widening just enough to reveal a trace of amusement. Her voice, when it came, was like the toll of an ancient bell, resonant and powerful, yet soft enough to wrap around Emma’s senses.

“You may address me as...” The woman paused, her fingers tapping lightly on the armrest of her throne, a rhythmic echo in the silence. “Aunty Erilania,” she finished with a chuckle, the sound like a ripple across still waters.

Emma blinked, her bow faltering for the briefest moment. Aunty Erilania? The name echoed in her mind, a mixture of disbelief and wonder stirring in her chest.

The goddess noticed Emma’s reaction, her smile deepening. “You may lift your head, child,” she said, her tone shifting to a gentle command. “Address me as you would, with no need for unnecessary formality.”

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

Emma straightened slowly, her gaze lifting to meet Erilania’s shrouded form. The goddess seemed to grow even more majestic as Emma stared, her presence pressing against Emma’s mind like the weight of an unseen storm. And yet, there was no malice... only an infinite depth of wisdom and power.

Erilania studied Emma for a moment, her fingers now resting still against the throne. “Do you know why I have brought you here, child?” she asked, her voice carrying the weight of eternity.

Emma’s lips parted, but no words came. She shook her head, the faint movement betraying her uncertainty. “I don’t, my lady,” she replied, her tone steady despite the quiet awe she felt.

Erilania’s gaze seemed to soften, though her features remained obscured. “After the events within the artificial dungeon in Eldo-Clearoth, I have seen your deeds,” she said, her voice laced with an almost maternal pride. “And I wish to repay them.”

Emma blinked, confusion flickering in her eyes. “Repay them?” she asked cautiously.

The goddess inclined her head slightly, the mist around her throne swirling in response. “Indeed, child. I have seen the kindness in your heart, the strength of your will. You carry burdens heavier than most, yet your spirit does not waver. For that, I shall aid you in fulfilling your first goal.”

Emma’s breath caught. The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Her mind raced, piecing together the possibilities. “You mean... Anna?” she asked, her voice soft but certain.

Erilania’s smile returned, though there was a solemnity in her expression now. “Yes. I know of your wish to create a mechanical contraption, a wheelchair to grant her freedom of movement. A noble effort, one born of love and compassion. Yet, I offer you something greater.”

Emma’s brows furrowed slightly, her curiosity evident. “Greater, my lady?” she asked, her tone calm and responsible, though her heart thrummed in anticipation.

Erilania leaned forward, her hands resting on the arms of her throne. The mist around her thickened, its movements like a living tapestry. “Anna,” the goddess began, her voice both tender and resolute, “shall not need a chair. She shall walk again.”

The words struck Emma like a thunderclap. Her breath hitched, her eyes widening as she processed the goddess’s declaration.

“Walk... again?” she echoed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Erilania nodded, her regal presence unwavering. “Yes, child..... But you will have to go on a journey"

The silence that followed was heavy, Emma’s thoughts swirling in a chaotic storm of disbelief and gratitude. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words failed her, leaving her to stare at the goddess in silent awe.

The goddess’s smile softened further. “Go now, child. Return to your world. The path has been set, and the future awaits your steps.... In three days, you shall begin the journey...”

And with that, the throne, the mist, and Erilania’s majestic form dissolved into nothingness, leaving Emma standing once more in the small wooden cottage, the air heavy with the remnants of divine mysterious energy.

Emma exhaled, her hand clutching her chest. The faint cracks on the egg glowed softly in the dim light, a reminder of the encounter she had just experienced.

Anna will walk again, she thought, her lips trembling with the weight of the revelation.

And for the first time in what felt like an eternity, hope bloomed in her heart.