Page 71 of Goddess of Light
Kaleva considers then points to Mieli and Tenko. “You both go with Vellamo.” Mieli smiles softly, Tenko’s bones rattling as he nods. “The rest of us will go through the forest.”
Hanna exhales, easing her posture. She raises her chin and addresses the room. “Then it’s settled,” she says firmly, and everyone looks surprised to hear her speak. “My father, Ilmarinen, and Rasmus will carry the sampo with the main group. The Magician can help hide our movement with illusions. Tapio, Tellervo, Lovia, Tuoni, and I will move through the forest, guiding the main force. Vellamo and her flank of Keskellis travel by sea, meeting us later near the forest’s far side before it reaches the Gorge of Despair.”
My heart blooms at her determination, at her taking control, getting involved and giving orders, like the true Queen of Tuonela.
My cock grows hot, and I have to swallow down my lust for her. This isn’t the time nor the place, but later, whenever we get another chance, I’ll remind her again that she’s my queen in every way.
The Magician inclines his hood. He says nothing, but I know he approves of this plan. He probably already saw it coming, that riddling bastard. Lovia stands straighter, ready for action. Torben and Ilmarinen exchange a look, determination etched on their faces. Rasmus swallows hard but nods—he has accepted his fate, cast his lot with us.
I consider the timing. Nightfall isn’t far. “We have a few hours to pack and prepare,” I say. “Gather only what you can carry. We travel light, swift, leaving nothing for the enemy to reclaim. The wounded who can fight, we take with us. The severely injured… We will find a way to keep them safe, even if it means reopening the portal.”
A heavy silence follows. The reality is grim—some may not survive the journey. Still, no one challenges me. We know what mercy and loyalty mean in times like these.
Vellamo steps forward, voice soft. “I will select a small band of troops to accompany me and the two trolls by sea. We will find a boat that can navigate the coastline. The Old Gods lurk in the waters, but I’ve faced them before, and they aren’t as numerous as the ones on land. If we’re lucky, we’ll slip past them.”
Tapio and Tellervo exchange glances before Tellervo speaks, “We will do our best to coax safe passage through the forest. Even corrupted trees remember ancient pacts. They may not open paths easily, but we can at least avoid the worst snares.”
Hanna looks down at her hands, flexing her fingers. I know what she’s thinking—that a single flare of her solar power could carve a safe route, but the cost is too high. She meets my eyes, and I shake my head slightly. Not this time. She nods, looking relieved and guilty all at once.
Lovia breaks the silence. “I’ll organize the archers and gunmen for the forest group. We’ll need eyes that can see in the dark, or at least follow faint moonlight. The Magician can help with that?” She glances at the hooded figure.
The Magician’s galaxies swirl. “I can weave gentle illusions to mask our scent and footsteps, perhaps sharpen eyes a fraction, but no grand spectacles—we must remain subtle, lest we attract unwanted attention. That goes for the shamans as well. Magic must be used with caution.”
The meeting lulls as we each absorb our roles. Outside, a gust of wind rattles the shutters. The mood in the room is grim but purposeful. We have a direction now, a plan to follow. Remaining here would mean inevitable defeat. We must move, strike where we have an advantage, and pray the forest grants us mercy.
I gaze around at each ally. Until recently, many of these faces were strangers or distant acquaintances. Now, we’re bound by blood, battle, and sorrow.
And the biggest factor of all: revenge.
“Go now,” I say firmly, ending the silence. “Prepare as best you can. Eat, rest if you can, tend to the wounded. We have only this chance. Make no mistake: the enemy will come again, harder. We must not be here when they do.”
As the gathering disperses, everyone filing out to begin preparations, Hanna lingers by my side. The Magician remains a moment, galaxies twinkling softly. I consider asking him again if he foresees success, but his silence is answer enough. He tips his hood and vanishes into the castle.
Now, it’s just Hanna and me, and I close the door softly, letting the muffled sounds of activity fade. She steps closer, searching my face.
“Tuoni,” she whispers. “Iwantto help, to burn the hell out of our enemies and ensure we never lose anyone else. But I can’t risk forgetting you, or anyone else, ever again. I don’t know if that makes me a fucking coward or what.”
I pull her into a gentle embrace. She rests her head on my shoulder. “We don’t need a blazing sun,” I say softly. “Just yourpresence, your guidance, your heart. We will find another way. I want you beside me, alive, remembering who you are, rather than wielding power that costs us your soul. Besides, I’ve seen you fight. You’re, as they say in your world, a badass."
She nods against my chest, relaxing into me. “I don’t feel very badass anymore.” She sighs. “All those MMA lessons I took made me feel powerful once upon a time, but now that I know what having true divine power is like? I’ve gone from Conner McGregor to, like, I don’t know… Someone who weaseled their way in, like Logan Paul.”
I don’t bother telling her I don’t know who those men are, but I hold her until her breathing steadies. Outside, the castle resonates with quiet urgency—footsteps rushing through halls, the clank of armor being readied, frantic whispers of what to do. The walls still bear scars from the battle, scorches where Old Gods screamed, fractures where horrors tried to climb. The memory of that violence weighs heavily, but we must move past it. The future lies beyond these wretched stones.
Eventually, we step apart and follow the others. We spend the afternoon in grim preparation—gathering what food remains, stocking weapons, organizing squads. I check on the wounded; some can walk with support while others must be carried on makeshift stretchers. The Keskellis offer to carry them, but the truth is, none of the wounded can go with us. They’ll slow us down and probably die in the process.
“We need to leave them behind,” I tell Lovia. Her face falls, but she nods, because she knows it must be done. “Go get Torben and have him open a portal to the other side. It’s their best shot. If we leave them here, they will die without anyone to look after them. At least once they pass into the Upper World, they’ll regain agency. I can’t say what they’ll remember, but they won’t be able to return here. They’ll be safe. They’ll find the trucks they abandoned in the forest. They’ll be able to get tothe nearest hospital. We’ll send a few of their medics along with them, just in case, and keep a few for ourselves.”
At that, my daughter scurries off to find Torben. I feel bad about sending them back and having them fend for themselves in the middle of nowhere, but it’s the best thing for them, the only chance they get. I make a silent vow to uphold my promise, to offer them seats at the table when they pass. If I can give them all the most peaceful deaths in their golden years, then that’s even better. May they all die on the beach, old and grey, Mai Tais in their hands.
With Torben creating a portal, the troops guided by Lovia and some of the generals, Tapio and Tellervo confer with Rasmus about how best to coordinate signs—bird calls, flashes of foxfire—to guide us in the dark. Vellamo selects a handful of sailors from among our troops and plots a course to a dock in the Great Inland Sea that has a few boats we can push through the waterways.
I find Ilmarinen hunched over a small metal contraption in a side room. The sampo’s main component—two intricately etched metal spheres that grind against each other—sits in Ilmarinen’s lap as he polishes runes on its surface. It looks strange and fragile for something so crucial. If it works, we can restore the land’s balance along the ley lines. If it fails…well, we’ll find another way.
Night approaches faster than I’d like, the sky dimming to a pale gray. The snow outside glows faintly in the twilight. Gunmen line the walls one last time, scanning the horizon, making sure the enemy hasn’t returned prematurely. The wind howls softly, as if mourning our departure from these half-broken walls that sheltered us for a time.
In the great hall, I give quiet orders: torches doused, everyone ready to move at my signal. Soldiers stand in clusters, whispering farewells to the castle. They had gathered by theportal earlier, saying goodbye to their wounded brethren as they disappeared into the Upper World.
We take what we can: food, medicine, weapons. The Keskellis kneel, allowing supply packs to be strapped to their backs. Mieli and Tenko prepare to follow Vellamo across the star swamp to the west, Torben freezing the swamp over once more for good measure. I break my façade and pull Vellamo into an embrace, making her promise to meet us on the other side of the forest. My sister-in-law gives me a warm smile and says she will do her best.