Chapter 1: the goddess who watches
Chapter One: The Goddess Who Watches
The forest woke before the sun.
Gold leaves shimmered high above, catching light that hadn’t fully arrived yet. The Tree of Gold stood at the heart of it all—ancient, towering, forbidden. Its leaves chimed softly when the wind passed through, like coins brushing together.
Aries lay flat on her back beneath it, staring up at the branches.
“Still standing,” she muttered. “Good job.”
The tree did not answer, but its leaves rustled anyway.
Aries smiled.
She pushed herself up too fast and immediately lost her balance, stumbling over a root she had tripped on a thousand times before.
“Wow,” she groaned, brushing dirt from her knees. “Warrior of the gods. Defeated by a stick.”
Once, she had commanded storms. Once, she had fought beside her brother Cancer, blade in hand, armor glowing with divine fire.
Now she guarded a tree.
A very important tree—but still.
The Tree of Gold was not meant for humans. Its leaves could cure sickness, buy kingdoms, start wars. That was why the gods had hidden it deep within the forest… and why they had sent Aries to watch it.
Humans are selfish, Cancer had told her.
They take until nothing is left.
Aries believed him. Mostly.
She walked barefoot through the moss, fingers brushing tree bark as she passed. The forest leaned toward her, recognizing its guardian. Birds followed her. Roots shifted to clear her path.
This was her duty.
And she was loyal to it.
Still… curiosity tugged at her.
“What do you think?” she asked a nearby fox. “Do you think they’re all bad?”
The fox blinked at her, unimpressed, then trotted away.
Aries sighed. “Rude.”
A distant sound cut through the calm.
Voices.
Human voices.
Her smile faded.
Aries sighed, rubbing her face. “I really need a sign.”
She stepped lightly toward the forest’s edge, peering through the brush.
A woman stood there—thin, shaking, clutching an empty basket. Her clothes were worn. Her hands rough. Fear and longing lived together in her eyes.
Not a soldier.
Not a thief.
Just desperate.
“I won’t touch anything,” the woman whispered to no one. “I swear.”
Aries felt the law tighten around her ribs.
Never harm them unless they bleed the land.
She stepped forward, letting her presence bend the air.
The woman gasped.
Aries raised her hands gently. “You’re lost,” she said. “And you don’t belong here.”
The woman nodded too fast. “I know. I just—I thought maybe—”
Gold light flickered from the tree.
Aries winced. “Don’t look at that.”
She pressed her palm to the ground.
Roots rose. Wind twisted. The forest shifted like a dream collapsing.
The woman screamed—
And vanished.
When the forest stilled, Aries stood alone again.
She exhaled slowly.
“Forget,” she whispered.
Somewhere far away, a woman would wake confused. Safe. Alive.
Aries turned back to the tree.
She didn’t see the faint shimmer left behind.
The market in Zalar was already crowded, and the guards were enjoying it far too much.
“Move,” one barked, shoving past a fruit seller. Apples scattered across the dirt.
Aquarius paused mid-step, jaw tightening.
The woman dropped to her knees, scrambling. “I’m sorry—I’m sorry—”
The guard laughed and kept walking.
Aquarius didn’t intervene. Not here. Not today.
That was the problem with Zalar’s soldiers. Authority wasn’t protection—it was permission.
He adjusted the strap across his shoulder and kept moving, face calm, eyes sharp. He’d learned when to fight… and when fighting only made things worse.
A courier waved him over near the gate. “Escort job. Short route.”
Aquarius nodded once. No questions. He walked beside the cart until it cleared the lower district, accepted his pay, and slipped the coins into his pouch without counting them.
Every coin mattered.
At the edge of the market, voices carried.
“…telling you, it’s real.”
Aquarius slowed—not stopping, just listening.
“A forest no one maps. Gold leaves. A goddess.”
He glanced sideways.
People always talked like this when they were broke or drunk.
“Men go in,” another said, lowering his voice, “and don’t come back at all.”
Aquarius huffed quietly. Fairytales.
Still… medicine for royals didn’t appear out of nowhere.
He moved on before curiosity could turn into stupidity.
The Merchants’ Guild loomed ahead—clean stone, polished doors, the kind of place where poor men only entered if they had something worth losing.
And Aquarius did.
The Merchants’ Guild smelled like polished stone and old lies.
“Took you long enough,” a smooth voice drawled.
Aquarius looked up. “Nice to see you too, Taurus. I see the rings are multiplying. You breeding them now or…?”
Taurus’s smile twitched.
Aquarius dropped the wrapped bundle on the counter. “Brought you something shiny. Try not to drool on it.”
Taurus unwrapped the sword slowly, eyes gleaming. “Old military steel,” he murmured. “You really know how to break my heart.”
Aquarius sighed. “Yeah, I was hoping you’d cry. Would’ve made my day.”
Taurus tested the blade, unimpressed. “You used to carry one like this.”
“Used to wear ugly armor too,” Aquarius replied. “We all make mistakes.”
Taurus chuckled low. “Quit the army. Brave. Stupid.”
Aquarius leaned on the counter. “I call it career growth. Less yelling, fewer boots on necks.”
The merchant’s eyes hardened. “Morals don’t feed the dying.”
Aquarius smiled brightly. “Neither do you. Yet here we are.”
Silence.
Taurus slid a small pouch across the counter.
Aquarius lifted it, weighed it, then frowned. “That’s it? I’ve been insulted with more generosity.”
“You want more,” Taurus said calmly, “bring me something better.”
Aquarius shrugged. “I’ll keep an eye out. Maybe a conscience. You look like you lost yours years ago.”
Taurus leaned closer. “Careful.”
Aquarius leaned back just as easily. “Always am. You, on the other hand, look like someone who sleeps with one eye open.”
He pocketed the coins and turned to leave.
“Oh,” Taurus added softly. “Watch the stories you listen to. Some paths cost more than they pay.”
Aquarius paused at the door.
He glanced back, grin lazy and unafraid. “Then I’ll make sure I’m well entertained on the way.”
Outside, the market noise crashed over him again.
Taurus watched him go, smile returning—slow and calculating.
Some people were worth more than gold.
Especially when broken.
Aquarius nudged the door shut with his foot, balancing a bowl in one hand.
“Alright,” he announced to his grandmother, “dinner has arrived. Please lower your expectations.”
From the bed, his grandmother chuckled weakly. “If it doesn’t explode, I’ll be impressed.”
He set the bowl down on the small table beside her and crossed the room to the fireplace. With a flick of his wrist, he sparked the flint. The fire caught slowly, crackling to life, painting the walls in soft orange.
“There,” he said, dusting his hands. “Luxury.”
She smiled at him like he’d hung the stars himself.
Aquarius scooped a spoonful and sat on the edge of the bed. “Open up.”
She obeyed, then made a face. “Too much salt.”
He gasped. “Lies. I measured with my heart.”
“Your heart is reckless.”
“True.”
He fed her patiently, joking the whole time, pretending not to notice the way her hands trembled or how thin she’d become.
She reached up suddenly, brushing his cheek. “You work too hard.”
He shrugged. “I’m practicing for when I’m rich and famous.”
She snorted. “Rich maybe. Famous for what? Talking back to dangerous men?”
“Hey,” he said lightly, “that’s a skill.”
She watched him for a long moment, firelight dancing in her eyes. “I worry about you being alone.”
Aquarius tilted his head. “I’m not alone. I have you. And a very judgmental pot.”
She smiled but shook her head. “You need a wife. Someone to nag you properly.”
He laughed. “Isn’t that your job?”
“I won’t be around forever,” she said softly.
He paused, just for a second.
Then he grinned. “Well, whoever she is, she’ll have to fight you for the title.”
His grandmother laughed so hard she coughed, and he was instantly at her side, concern flashing before he hid it again.
She waved him off. “I just want you happy. Laughing. In love.”
He tucked the blanket around her carefully. “I’ll get there. Promise.”
She sighed contentedly, eyes fluttering closed. “Good. Don’t take too long.”
Aquarius watched the fire crackle, warmth filling the room—and for a moment, the world felt gentle.
Outside, the night crept closer.
