Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 125422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
My father knelt, reaching into his pockets and spreading wild herbs across the stones, murmuring words in Finnish, words I should have understood but didn’t. I had always found his voice comforting, almost jolly, yet here, it carried a weight that made my chest tighten, as if his words had a power of their own. I felt something stir within myself, a feeling I couldn’t quite place—like a memory or a dream. Something old, maybe even something that didn’t belong to me.
“Close your eyes, Hanna,” he’d whispered, his voice reverent. “Feel the earth beneath you.”
I remember dropping to my knees beside him and pressing my small hands to the stones. I expected it to feel cool, but instead, it was slowly warming, like sunlight breaking through clouds. There was a pulse beneath my palms, as if energy was being pushed back into my skin, enough that I had to pull my hands away. When I opened my eyes, my father looked at me with an expression I didn’t understand—something like pride, sadness, and knowing all at once.
I never understood that moment, never understood what it meant. It had always stayed dormant in the back of my head, like a dream you forget upon waking.
But now, I know. I don’t remember anything else—if he said something, if he ever explained what the stones meant and why we were there, but it doesn’t matter. He was trying to see if I was a pure mortal or something more. He was trying to see how much of my mother—my real mother—I had in me.
The mother I’m staring at right now.
“Hanna, your mother is here,” the Goddess of the Sea says, but I know this without Vellamo’s announcement. I know it from the bone-warming heat, from the radiant light that fills the forest where we’re hunkering down for the night. I know it from this strange feeling of deep affection, something both beautiful and sad, a longing for something I never knew.
Something I had lost then found.
At first, my mother is just light. It’s like staring into the sun, but it doesn’t hurt your eyes, doesn’t make you squint. It’s powerful and gentle all at once.
Divine.
Then, the light begins to fade, and her outline slowly comes into view. It’s hard to focus on it clearly; her form keeps shifting, like rays of the sun bending shadows. She’s just like Ilmatar, Goddess of the Air, in that you see more of her when you view her in your peripheral.
“Hanna,” a voice says. It is rich yet feminine, primordial. It doesn’t seem to come from the light but from all around me, like it’s embedded in the air.
I can only stare dumbly at the glow as she slowly comes into focus, until, finally, I can see her clearly.
She’s so beautiful, it makes my chest ache.
My mother is at least a foot taller than me, close to seven feet, with long limbs and skin that hums a subtle golden hue, as if kissed by shimmering sunlight. Her hair cascades in waves of molten gold, streaked with fiery reds and soft, glowing ambers, constantly shifting as though alive with the sun’s flames. When she moves, her hair seems to emit a soft halo of light, casting a warm glow around her. Flowing robes of radiant silk envelop her body, the fabric almost weightless, moving like ripples of heat. Golden embroidery depicting solar flares and constellations adorns the edges.
Most striking are her eyes. They shift between molten amber and deep copper, burning with intensity. Looking into them feels like staring into the heart of the sun itself, an unstoppable force of life.
She is very much a God, her power and presence rendering me speechless. I can’t imagine there’s any way I could have possibly come from such a being. Maybe everyone was wrong about her being my mother. Me? A girl from North Hollywood who drank boba tea and worried about never owning a house?
We are not the same.
“You have nothing to say to me?” she says, her voice light and melodic now. “Because I have much I would like to say to you.”
“I—I’m sorry, I just…I never expected to…” My voice trails off as I struggle to find the words that could possibly convey the overwhelming mix of emotions swirling inside me. “It’s nice to finally meet you?” I finish dumbly.
There’s no way I’m about to start calling her mom.
Her gaze softens as she reaches out, fingers glowing softly with a warm light as she beckons me closer. Without a second thought, I step toward her, feeling a surge of warmth enveloping me. It’s like being wrapped in sunlight itself, full of life and power, something that sings a song deep inside my veins.
“My dear Hanna,” she whispers, her voice resonating within my soul, bringing with it an aching sense of familiarity. “You may feel small now, but you carry within you the spark of my divine essence. It slumbers, waiting for the right moment to awaken and illuminate the world. This is that moment, my child.”