A twitch of a finger stirs my dormant consciousness, rousing me to an unresponsive body. Every muscle feels stiff. I can’t move, yet my body continues to drift to an unknown destination. My lungs have not begged for air despite this breathless environment. Darkness takes hold, preventing me from peering into the visual world. There’s a chilling aura lurking within the darkness.

Suddenly, currents swirl around my body, pushing me upward. Without any resistance, the trip to the surface is almost instant as a flash of frigidness beams on my body. Followed by a glowing warmth, I bask in this brightness. Opening my eyes, I’m greeted by the clear sky. The water hugs me close, swaying me back and forth.

Once I move, I end up sinking. The haze that cursed my body disperses as I swim back up. Oak trees spread for miles, wrapping around this lake. Out in the distance, a grand tree pokes through the clouds, gazing down on its subjects. A breeze blows past, whirling through the forest.

‘A forest? I don’t remember this being around the Palaces.’

The shore is my first priority. I concentrate on the thin line separating the air and water, and place my hand upon this line. Instead of submerging, the water now serves as a platform. It’s a short trek to land. A shallow puddle forms beneath me as the water droplets slide off my skin and dress with ease.

Then vanity arrives like an unsound habit, beckoning me to examine the lake. The water's reflection reveals a woman with white hair that rolls to her ankles. A mark of blue streaks across the left side of her bangs. In contrast, those black holes for eyes would make one think otherwise of her status. White silk drapes her slim figure, accompanied by a transparent shawl with golden hems. A bit out of fashion, I might add.

Without a doubt, she’s definitely me.

It’s foolish to assume that I’m anywhere near the Palaces. There are no lakes there. The surrounding noise is almost nonexistent, only being accompanied by the rustling wind. There’s a muted sound that’s growing louder, though I can’t pinpoint where it is.

‘Why am I in the mortal realm? The last thing I remember was leaving the Emerald Palace.’

No matter how hard I wrack my brain, this missing piece is nowhere to be found.

Crunch.

The crumpling of grass attract my attention, pointing me eastward. It’s a girl covered by an ivory cloak with lemon linings. Behind that hood hides these big, round oceanic eyes that lay upon me with wonder.

Aware of the eyes that stare back, she falls to her knees, her hands gripping on the cross around her neck. In a rather wavering tone, she confesses, “I am truly sorry, o’ Lake Goddess. I have failed to realize who you were before approaching.”

“Hmph! Do not lump me with the likes of lesser gods.” The blood in her veins freeze when she hears that. A grin breaks through my serious act. “Heh. Have humans really become this fearful? Stand, girl. Tell me your name.”

“My name i-is Sister Mercy,” she stammers, refusing to stand.

For a Sister who’s apologetic about seeing me, she’s deaf to commands. A sigh breaks through these lips of mine. “Stand, Mercy.”

The cloaked figure finally lands on her heels, although her hands are still on the cross. “I’ve committed an atrocity by calling you a Lesser God. I-”

As she continues to ramble, her words meshes into an incoherent mess. I shouldn’t be near a mortal, but consider her background as a Church member, I comply with the risk. Approaching the girl with haste, I press my finger against her lips.

“Shh. I get it. You’re sorry.” Mercy steps back, away from my grasp.

“Now that you’re listening, can you tell me where I am?”

Those concerned brows of hers raise, but she doesn’t question back. “We’re currently in Tamria. This place is the Great Mana Lake, where the Goddess Landao resides.”

“So this is her area?”

“Yes… but people haven’t seen or heard from her in a long time.”

I think I have an idea where she is. She’s back at the Emerald Palace, most likely having fun gossiping with the other lesser gods. Does she have any connection to why I’m here?

When questioned, she explains that the town of Landan has been going through a dry spell ever since Landao’s ‘disappearance’. The forest has rejected the townsfolk, warning the animals of the hunters prowling their lands. With no rain for their crops nor successful hunts, this town would’ve sunk under three years ago if it wasn’t for the generous donations from the Church.

Brows furrowed with no end in sight, Sister Mercy expresses genuine concern for the people of Landan. Ironically, it’s a feat I rarely see from a Faithful.

From what I’ve gathered, Landao’s got a big presence around here. Now that she’s bored with these humans, she returns to the realms of the Gods. She blesses them with an abundance of bounty and then leaves them to dry. It’s not a surprising feat for a lesser god.

“So you had hoped that I was Landao? Do you even know what she looks like?”

Her face averts mine, choosing to stare at the ground instead. “I have no excuse.”

“That’s fine, then.”

After I left the lake, life seemed to resurface. My presence must’ve spooked the fish down under. On the opposite corner, a few of the wildlife—foxes, deers, and rabbits alike—observe with mild concern. Birds land on the branches behind me, chirping in a conversational manner. Even Mercy notices this event.

“How wondrous! When I traversed through this forest, I barely saw a soul.”

That lesser god must’ve cooed these animals until they’ve grown dependent, not caring for the consequences of her absence. I can’t stay here. Else they’ll find comfort in me instead.

“I wish to be away from this place. Lead me out of this forest.”

Bewildered for the fourth time, Mercy’s brows scrunch together enough to even give me a headache. Though I don’t mind this expression of hers. There must be many questions she’s laying in the grave because of the Church’s pesky rules.

“If you have a question, then spill it.”

The vice grip around her cross languishes as she finally rests her arms. Mercy gazes in my direction, immersing me in a bottomless ocean. Her eyes have such a deep blue color. It’s unusual for humans. Mercy’s outfit maintains the same color scheme even after many passing years. As white is the desired color within the Palaces, the humans have taken upon this fashion statement and adorn their most Faithful with alabaster cloaks.

“Is it alright for a Goddess to wander?”

“Lesser gods do it all the time. What’s your point?”

“But… nobody has even seen-”

She must’ve answered her own question as she drops the subject, her hand rubbing against her jawline. Upon closer inspection, I notice the five gilded rings. The bands are thick with a flat surface. An odd choice for a girl of Faith. Decorated on her wrist is a slim, silver bracelet with rubies ordained. While in her self-inflicted trance, I close our distance once again--the sight of black ink catches my amenity.

I remove her hand from her head, enveloping it in mine. The incantation marked on her rings is remarkable and handled with delicate deftness. Despite the small canvas, the details of the star pattern hints towards a Power enchantment. Threading through each of her fingers, all five rings bear the same mark.

“Um…” flustered beyond belief, she tugs her hand, but to no avail. The girl musters up any ounce of courage to request a Goddess, and murmurs, “Can you… please let go of my hand? Y-your presence is…”

“Hm?” Although I could hear it perfectly, I’m not satisfied with this half-hearted attempt. “Speak up.”

“Please let go of my hand.” After those firm words leave her mouth, her lips purses. She downcast her eyes. The tip of her fingers tremble ever so slightly.

I do as she says. “Good. I like that tone a lot better. Speak to me like that from now on and try not to look so scared. I don’t know what your people have taught you, but you’re not gonna earn my respect by groveling at my feet. Understand?”

“Yes, Goddess.”

A smile replaces my stern expression. “Good. Lead the way.”

Before we continue, Mercy advises, “If you would like, you can wear my cloak and cover up your hair and dress.”

If there was a book on how to spot a deity, the writers would print my image as an example.

“Hiding white with more white? Heh. I’ll take you up on that offer.”

She unlatches the clip of the cloak, pulling it off and handing it over. Daffodil locks unroll down her shoulders. It curls a touch towards the end. Underneath that cloak is a dark wool cape and similar matching trousers. Her pants funnel inside her leather boots, which show signs of wear.

“Are you really a Sister?” For the first time, I speculate. Odd. Each piece of information feels familiar to me. Her name. The color of her eyes. Her status. It’s hazy, but I remember hearing about it.

“I am, Goddess. I apologize if I do not look the part.”

“No need for an apology.”

I click the cloak in place and cover my hair with the hood.

During our short trek from the forest to the town, I wonder, “Do Sisters often travel alone and armed?”

“… No, we don’t, but I can protect myself.”

“Sure, but does the Church allow this?”

“The Temple Monks trained me at a young age, so I got their endorsement to travel alone for my pilgrimage.”

Pilgrimage. I’ve heard about those before. It’s a long journey across the continent and can take the traveler a year to visit all the major temples. If you succeed, that is. Towards the end of this year-long trip, the Church will old a ceremony for your initiation. It is the highest order you can attain, as they are the messengers of the Gods.

‘Hm? Why am I not surprised that she’s on a pilgrimage?’

As it stands, the plan’s simple: Remigrate to the Palaces. It should be a straightforward task. Yet nothing comes to mind about how to return. Someone has severed my connection to the Palaces and caused this inconvenience.