Chapter 54: A Girl’s Night Out?
"This isn’t what I had in mind..."
Anastasia said, though she definitely wasn’t complaining. The two of them were flying through the night sky, their forms cloaked in darkness as Sarael lifted them with invisible hands made of shadow.
Sarael had only just evolved, and even as a goddess, she couldn’t resist the classic urge to test out her new abilities immediately.
This was the perfect excuse.
"You’re lucky you’re the first to experience this. I would have saved it for my husband if I didn’t want to be more useful to him."
Sarael said, gazing down at the city below. They stayed within a few kilometers of the mansion, close enough to avoid straying too far.
"This is nice and all, but how is this supposed to help me learn more about you...?"
Anastasia asked, still smiling despite her complaints.
Sarael didn’t answer right away. She let the silence stretch, the wind whipping past them as the city lights blurred beneath their feet.
Anastasia’s question hung in the air, and Sarael turned it over in her mind with the same careful attention she’d once given to Ronan’s sleeping face.
How was this supposed to help?
"I don’t know," she admitted. "I just wanted to fly."
Anastasia stared at her. Then, unexpectedly, she laughed. "You really are weird, you know that?"
"Does that make me less boring?"
"Well... I guess?"
Sarael gave a satisfied hum. Despite having once been a goddess of omniscience and omnipotence at the height of her worship, she was surprisingly terrible at normal conversation.
Most of her interactions with believers had involved healing them with darkness, easing grief, or serving as the patron of obsessive love. Even then, she had only ever needed to bless them for things to be done.
The first time she had truly interacted with the world was through brief exchanges with Ronan’s grandmother during her lowest time of worship. Then came her manifestation before Ronan, and everything that had happened since.
And after spending time with Anastasia and flying around with her, she had developed a paranoia that went beyond jealousy.
If Anastasia found her boring, would Ronan eventually feel the same way?
’No...’
She wouldn’t let that happen.
"Anastasia, right?"
"Yeah? Is there a problem...?"
"Can you tell me what women usually do?"
Anastasia raised a brow, her hair still whipping across her face.
"What’s that supposed to mean?"
Sarael didn’t answer immediately. She floated closer, knowing what she was about to say was risky. But if it was for Ronan, she would do it. Even if he might object.
She whispered her origin: that she was a goddess, that she wasn’t human. Anastasia turned to stare at her with a disbelieving expression, unsure whether to take it as truth or a joke.
But one thing was clear: Sarael had meant it when she asked what women usually did.
And for Anastasia, whose childhood had been unintentionally isolated because of her prestigious father, that made it hard to refuse.
Especially when the request came from another woman so powerful that it actually felt like a nice change of pace.
For Anastasia, she was always ahead. Now, it had completely reversed.
"Hard to say, but..."
Anastasia scratched the back of her head, not quite sure how to answer. Aside from training to get stronger and scrolling through her phone, she wasn’t sure what else to say. She was just as clueless as Sarael.
Still, anything was better than nothing. She decided to lean on generic TV and film tropes about girls hanging out.
The blind leading the blind...
"What about we stop by that mall?"
She pointed toward the nearest one, not far from her father’s mansion. That was a good place, right? Surely they’d find something in common there.
But—
"Although, we aren’t exactly the most inconspicuous..."
"I can handle that," Sarael replied. "Weaving illusions isn’t difficult."
After making contact with the amulet, she had discovered a new confidence in her powers, one that went beyond teleporting or dismantling bodies like puzzles.
✧ ✦ ✧
The two of them found themselves back on the ground, just a block from the mall.
Anastasia looked down at herself. Her usual clothes had been replaced by a casual outfit, a cream sweater and dark jeans that looked like something she’d actually wear on a normal day out.
Her hair was still the same, but her features had shifted slightly. Softer jawline, different eye color, nothing drastic, but enough that no one would recognize her as John Neumann’s daughter.
"You can do this?" she asked, turning to Sarael.
Sarael had changed too. Her violet hair was now a deep black. Her eyes had dimmed to a warm brown, and her clothing had shifted into a modest dress with a floral pattern that Anastasia suspected had been copied from a store mannequin somewhere.
The bite mark on her neck was still visible, though. Sarael hadn’t bothered to cover it.
"It’s not true polymorphing, only a trick."
"Well, it’s more than impressive..."
Anastasia led the way through the mall entrance, her hands shoved into the pockets of her illusion-crafted jeans. The automatic doors slid open with a soft hiss, and the smell of pretzels and perfume hit them both at once.
Sarael stopped just past the threshold. Her head tilted back, tracking the high ceilings and the glittering storefronts and the clusters of people moving through the corridors.
"It’s bigger than the convenience store," she said.
You’ve seriously never been to a mall?"
"No. I’ve watched them from outside. Through windows, mostly. But I’ve never been inside one."
The admission came out matter-of-fact, without self-pity. Sarael wasn’t looking for sympathy. She was just stating a fact.
Anastasia didn’t know what to do with that. So she defaulted to what she always did when things got weird: she kept moving.
"Alright, ground rules. If anyone asks, we’re cousins. I’m treating you to a day out because you’re visiting from the countryside. That explains why you don’t know anything."
"That’s fair..."
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