No Longer Forgotten

Looking out over the lake, she sighed, another day in the endless stretch of eternity dawning. A thin beam of light danced across the water, as the breath of her sister rippled the surface of the water. It was a greeting, equivalent to a soft smile from across a crowded room. High above, leaves rustled and branches creaked, an echoed hello of her beloved brother, tousling her hair playfully.

In time, as her father rose across the sky, he would greet her with a silent warmth, just as he would all of his children, all of the gods and goddesses across these lands. She knew that he loved them all equally, but in her solitude here, it was hard to avoid the deep cut of sorrow that settled within her when her moment passed.

All the while she lay there, fading. Much like many of her siblings before her, eternity would end. As a child, all of the divine ones were taught the rules - as long as mortals thought of them, they would live. It was why her mother hung in the sky, shining pale light on young lovers brought together by the machinations of her sisters and their children. It was why her father’s brother still toiled tirelessly over every field and plain that brought forth the fruits of the earth, for his wife to transform from bountiful harvests into delicious feasts.

It did not matter that their names changed. For her parents and eldest siblings, they grew accustomed to being called many things across the entirety of the world as languages pulled and changed from place to place. It did not matter because, regardless of what they were called, they were seen and lived in the minds of those below.

Not all things kept names, though, like her sister Wind and her brother Tree. With no one to call upon her, to think of her, to remember her, what good was a name. She was fading. They knew it, too, which was why they lingered with her here, all that she once knew captured in this hidden place.

However long ago it had been, the earth shook. There was no reason for the fight, and to this day, she did not know who caused it or even who won. All she knew is that everything she had known, loved, cared for, and existed for had fallen deep below. It had opened a wound that could not heal, a scar that now was healing after centuries…and slowly killing her.

The beam of her father’s light passed beyond her view, the only remnants of his light lingering at the surface of the slowly sealing crack. Soon, she would lose sight of him forever. It was only a matter of time. Eternity did not last forever.

Each step took more effort than the last as she padded barefoot across the stone and moss. A few droplets from the dripstone touched her hair and her cheek, soft kisses from Water, her closest friend, the one who had stayed with her the longest, sharing in the task and toil that kept her here in her frailty.

There on the soft pool of water sat her charge, the purpose for her existence, and the last few of their kind: floating golden flowers, crawling on silver vines across the surface of the water and out onto the cracks in the rocks, and the shattered marble remains of her shrine.

Oh, how she wished she knew their name.

Though the lessons she had been taught said she would only remain so long as someone remembered her charge, she could not help but wonder: was she still here at all simply for seeking the flowers out each day? It had been centuries, easily, since she had been trapped down here. No longer were garlands shaped for the crowns of princes or for adorning tables during the festivals. No longer were they woven into bridal braids or pressed into perfumes. Instead, they remained here with her, wilting, the last of their kind.

Her eyes glanced to the depths of the cave, the silent but ever watchful darkness deep within. Darkness, she knew, was the oldest of them all - never speaking, never reaching. Simply…there. If she walked towards him, would he welcome her? They were family after all.

Another drip of water on her cheek served as a warning against such thoughts. No, no. Water was right. A goddess did not give up on her charge, no matter how weak and weary she may be. Her time would come when it would, when the last of the mortals forgot her name, it would all end.

Continuing about her work, urging the vines up the craggy surface, coaxing them to reach for a few more moments of sunlight, to climb out of these depths, a sound distracted her.

It was not the buzz of the bees or the flies that visited ever so rarely. It was not the groan and stretch of the earth or the call of a bird. It was…different.

Furrowing her brow, she glanced up at the sliver of blue sky and saw a spot of black, like a droplet of ink on perfect silk. It whirred and buzzed as it began to descend into the cavern. As it turned and glanced about, an impish giggle in a language she did not know, but recognized as that of the divine startled her. The light shone upon her - through her - and to the flowers and vines beneath her.

Then, upon her shrine.

Her chest could have burst with the unfamiliar feeling of life, of memory, of anything for the first time in centuries. It was not the same rush felt at the summer festivals or on bridal nights, but after feeling nothing for so long, it was overwhelming. Salt tears prickled her eyes as she followed the device - the drone - around its exploration of the cavern before it rose again into the sky.

And though she was alone, she was really and truly not forgotten.

In her excitement, she called out to her brothers and sisters, and that night there were gusts and rain and falling leaves making their way into the cavern, celebrating with her in the only way they could. Her work began in earnest as she begged, pleaded, and pulled each flower and vine along the walls of the cavern.

Please, please…

All night and all day she looked to the sky again, waiting for the return of the young one. Another day passed, and by the third, she felt as though her tears of despair would drown her. The tiny flame of belief, of memory was there. They had not forgotten her and even as she glanced back at the darkness of the cavern, she felt even more determination not to be forgotten.

Whether by fate or faith, on the fourth day, she heard the familiar chittering laughter, joined by several others as she watched three long, colorful cords descend into her prison. In her excitement, her feet could not touch the ground and she floated between the figures, the mortals, dressed not in linens and gold but in bright, loud clothing with lights adorning their heads.

Once their feet touched the stone ground, the giggling laughter of Technology nearly drowned out their word.

“You’re sure this is the place?” a woman asked, shining a light down, glinting off the wet stone. “I’m not seeing any of the specimen.”

“They’ll be a bit deeper according to the footage,” a man’s voice replied, as light and airy as the golden hair peeking from under his helmet. “This was just the safest spot to drop in.”

“Be careful as you go down and watch your step,” another man chided, his voice clipped and cheery but laced with caution, “Try not to step on anything important. If they’re anything like the common variety, their root systems are very delicate.”

“Yes, professor.”

The light of the device in his hand nearly blinded her, but after a quick greeting of yet another impish voice, she squinted at the image on the screen. Her eyes grew wide as she saw an image, a painting - no, a mosaic! - of her flowers and vines….and her shrine.

Tears streamed down her cheeks as her hands came to cover her mouth in disbelief.

“This is amazing. Look at the stratification!” one of the voices exclaimed, hands dancing along the lines in the stone. “Dr. Flannigan would be interested in having his team down here too, I imagine. Maybe they could carbon date the exact moment of the event.” With that, another smaller device was brought out and flashed brightly at the wall. Something in that moment shifted, but she could not place it.

“Yeah, let’s bring the rock nerds in,” another one chuckled, shining the light further in, “We need to get our hands on the specimens before they come in with their jackhammers and the-”

"Professor! There it is! Look!"

The air stilled, with the crackling of gravel beneath their feet as the only sound for quite some time before they came to a stop, gazing forward at the lake, the vines, and the forgotten shrine.

“Ah,” the Professor said, coughing to clear away the emotion that had grown thick in his throat, “There she is.” Kneeling down, he ever so delicately cupped the underside of a flower, and she leaned into the tender touch that she felt against her cheek. “Hello, beautiful.”

“I can’t believe we found it…” one of them said, voice lofty with wonder as another flash from their phone captured a close up of the flower, a wide shot of the cavern, and then her shrine. “This is going to change everything.”

“Professor, there are some inscriptions here. Look.”

The three crowded around and she floated before them, completely unseen, but beaming with pride and joy, as he recited sacred words that crossed all language, but filled her to the brim with all that is divine:

May those who gaze upon

this most sacred space

set aside all sorrow and

be blessed by the sight of

the Goddess of the Golden Lily

It was silent a moment, all of them as still as the marble around them, until the one with the phone murmured…

"…the Golden Lily." After a few more taps, his fingers stopped moving and he looked around the cavern.

“We should get to it. These things aren’t going to propagate themselves, right?”

As they set to work, Lily followed them, watching as they gently cradled her children as if they were their own, but she was taken aback by an odd feeling. Sparks seemed to be going off within her chest, blossoming into light one after another. It was…overwhelming.

“Devin…ohmygod, Devin! Look!” One of the girls squealed, splashing through the water to her companion, “It went viral!”

The Professor stilled and narrowed his eyes, looking at them. “What went viral?”

“His post, he shared it online and look. It’s all anyone can talk about!”

The older man huffed, grumbling a moment before adding on, “Make sure you tag me, or whatever it is you do on it, so that no one has the idea to steal it. I didn’t tromp 14 hours through wilderness and weather for some hack to snag the research like last time.”

They kept on for a while as they worked, but Lily could no longer hear them, distracted and enthralled by the sensations running through her. Belief, interest, love, adoration…

They thought of her.

She was no longer forgotten.