"What do you mean by that?" I turned to face her.
She didn't answer right away, continuing to poke at the soil with the small stick in her hand.
"Eons ago," she began quietly, "when everything was still recovering from the Constant's Ascension… and when this universe first formed…"
She hesitated, subtly biting her lower lip before continuing.
"…I was nothing more than an emotionless machine."
Her voice didn't waver, but something beneath it did.
"Maintaining balance. Preserving order," she said.
"And searching for you at the same time."
I stayed silent.
"I was always certain," she went on, "that the Fragment Bearer of Stillness, specifically you—would eventually appear. Given enough time."
She turned to face me then, her expression… complicated.
"So I scoured this universe. The one where the highest signature of Stillness was emanating from."
Her gaze drifted away.
"And while I was doing so… the essence of Continuity and Stillness overlapped."
"Just by a fraction," she added. "For a fleeting moment."
She swallowed.
"That was when Continuity and Stillness resonated for the first time."
Her eyes glistened. She looked away almost immediately, blinking it back.
I didn't reach out.
I just… listened.
"That's when a being born from that resonance came to be," she continued softly.
"And that being… became Carthanalenia."
She shook her head slightly, clearing her throat.
"I didn't know what to do when she suddenly materialized in front of me," Anathasia admitted.
"But I kept her close nonetheless."
Her gaze lifted once more, toward the nebula still shining brighter than the rest of the sky.
"I taught her," she continued softly. "How to maintain a universe. How to control her authority… and I would occasionally tell her tales about the Stillness."
"Everything she did revolved around keeping things well maintained, always alongside my presence."
"So Carthanalenia…"
She paused.
"…never truly had the chance to feel like a child."
Her hand curled into a fist, then slowly relaxed as she took a deep breath.
"Maybe I was too absorbed in my own world that I never noticed her knocking."
"Every civilization she assisted. Every fate she fixed into coherence. Every achievement she attained…"
"She offered all of it to me."
"And I…"
She swallowed.
"…never explicitly acknowledged any of them."
Anathasia lowered her head. As she stared at the ground, a small smile curved on her lips.
Bitter.
"And by the time she grew up, she came to me and asked to take my position as the maintainer of this universe."
"I knew she was more than capable," she said quietly. "So I did what I believed was right at the time. I had other responsibilities, ones that went beyond maintaining a single universe."
She let out a heavy sigh.
"I didn't understand what that choice truly meant back then," she admitted, her voice wavering. "I was too selfish… too narrow-minded to see through her intentions."
"Only recently did I realize what it actually meant."
A beat.
Then, reluctantly—
"She didn't want to take over," Anathasia whispered.
"She wanted me to focus on finding you… instead of trying to do both."
She lifted her head, her eyes meeting mine as a tear slipped down her cheek.
"Say… isn't she a good kid?"
"Even after how much I ignored her. Even after treating her more like a student than my own child… she still cared enough to ease the weight I carried."
"Despite being treated like a stranger by her own mother."
Something tightened in my chest as more tears traced down her cheeks, her smile never fading.
"I'm a terrible mother," she choked out.
"And somehow… I still have the audacity to act like I did nothing wrong."
"…Aren't I just the worst?"
She stared down at the small scratches she'd made in the soil with her stick, wiping tears from her cheeks.
"A-anyway, I—"
"Are you, though?" I interrupted softly, keeping my gaze on the nebula.
Anathasia froze. Her eyes widened for a second before she slowly turned back to me, her shoulders slackening just a little.
A beat.
"You said it yourself. You didn't understand," I continued. "And while ignorance isn't necessarily an excuse… who exactly was supposed to tell you otherwise?"
She didn't respond. So I went on.
"Being a mother comes with its own struggles. And you were suddenly thrown into that kind of situation without any prior experience. Let alone knowing how to handle it."
I kept my tone calm, letting the words settle between us.
"The fact that you regret your past actions already proves something," I said quietly. "Wanting to have done better back then…"
My eyes flicked toward her briefly, then back to the nebula.
"…just means you would now."
I reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair away from her face.
"Now that you finally understand," I added, "you can do better this time. You don't have to fix the past, just make sure you don't repeat the same mistake."
A small smile tugged at my lips.
"But you're the smartest person I know. I'm sure you already know exactly what to do."
For a moment, her eyes shimmered as they met mine. Then, slowly, I pulled my hand back. She wiped her tears away with a subtle nod.
Seeing her expression soften, I pressed on.
"Carthanalenia… I'm sure she's watching us right now. Just like she said."
The night brightened just a fraction as the nebula from earlier swelled, its light spilling across the sky for a few seconds.
"See?" I said, my hand drifting to her cheek, giving it a gentle tug.
People began stepping out of the house, eyes widening as the nebula continued to grow brighter, eventually outshining even the full moon.
"What's that?" Rose asked, squinting up at the luminous sky.
"It must be God's way of showing he's still watching over and guiding us… his children," one of my uncles murmured.
Though… knowing that Carthanalenia is the god of this universe, and my own daughter, apparently… it feels a bit awkward.
And just like that, Christmas passed beneath the glow of a faraway nebula lighting up the sky, something astronomers and cosmologists apparently hadn't predicted at all.
Though the very next day—
Back in the same field where Carthanalenia had appeared in front of me for the first time—
"Right, so…" I glanced down at the little girl standing before me. She had long, silky black hair and crimson-red eyes that looked as though they'd watched eons come and go.
"This is…?"
"It's Carthanalenia," Anathasia chimed in, bending down to pick her up, smiling brightly.
She cradled the girl in her arms, almost naturally.
"Dad!" Carthanalenia suddenly exclaimed, beaming at me.
As absurd as the situation was, I couldn't help but smile back. She reached toward me, then looked up at Anathasia.
"Mom, I wanna to be held by Dad."
"Mhm, is that so?" Anathasia replied softly, nuzzling her before walking over. A smile curved gently on her lips.
"Be careful not to drop her, got it?"
"I'm not that careless…" I muttered, shaking my head slightly as I took Carthanalenia into my arms.
And immediately, something inside me swelled.
Also… she's really light. Just like her mother…
I glanced at Anathasia. She folded her arms, watching us with a quiet smile, before leaning in to nuzzle Carthanalenia as she laughed softly.
"By the way," I spoke up, Carthanalenia casually tugging at my hair as I looked back at Anathasia. "I don't know if it's just me, but…"
My gaze shifted toward the bushes not too far from the path leading into the field.
"…are there people spying on us?"
At my words, Anathasia merely shook her head, her eyes drifting toward the same spot.
"They've been watching us since earlier," she said calmly. "I noticed them minutes after we arrived."
I stiffened.
"Wait, then did they see Carthanalenia descend—"
"Of course not," she cut in immediately. "Do you really think our daughter would be *that* careless?"
"…Okay. Fair point," I muttered, letting out a small sigh.
As if on cue, the figures hidden behind the bushes suddenly stood up, turned around, and walked away, without a single word.
I shot Anathasia a glare.
"Oi… did you just—"
"No?" she replied instantly, shrugging as she deliberately avoided my gaze. "You're imagining things."
"Girl, you just hypnotized people… *again.*"
Before I could continue, Carthanalenia hopped down from my arms.
In the next instant, her form shifted, stretching, reshaping, until she stood tall before us. No longer a child, but a woman… or perhaps something in between. She bore Anathasia's eyes, unmistakably so, and my hair.
"It seems our time together is limited for now," she said softly.
"You're already leaving?" I asked, watching as she turned away.
"My apologies… father," she replied. "I still have responsibilities that require my attention."
I didn't know why, but a quiet heaviness settled in my chest as I watched her begin to fade.
"But I will return," she continued. "As always, I will be watching over mother and father."
"You can always ask for my help," Anathasia said, stepping forward. A small, earnest smile rested on her face. "If things ever become too difficult to handle alone."
Carthanalenia froze.
Slowly, she turned back toward Anathasia, even as her form continued to dissolve into light.
"I shall," she said, giving a small nod.
"Until then…"
A pause.
Then—
"Mom."