Naera’s Redemption
The following is a channeled story of an alternate aftermath of the first fight between Lilith and the Matriarchs, told in The Lessons of Lemuria and elaborated on in The Bonds of Lemuria. In this story, Naera, one of the Matriarchs, explores a path of healing, instead of conflict:
Naera sat alone beneath the sprawling branches of the Starwood Tree, her hands resting in her lap, her gaze lost in the intricate patterns of light that danced across the bark. She was the second eldest of the Matriarchs, the first to join Lilith after Aiyink'thak and Almagroth had granted the gift of Lucid Awareness. The bond she shared with Lilith, forged in the dawn of the Matriarchs, made the events that followed even more difficult to bear. The grove was silent, save for the soft rustle of leaves that moved not with the wind, but with the rhythm of the dream itself. It was a place of reflection, one that Naera often sought when the weight of her role as a Matriarch pressed too heavily upon her.
Today, her heart was heavy with regret. The confrontation with Lilith replayed endlessly in her mind, each moment sharper and more vivid than the last. She had been the one to initiate the skirmish, to call forth the light that clashed with Lilith’s darkness. She had acted out of duty, yet the results had left a mark on her soul that no amount of reason could soothe.
“Did I fail them?” she whispered to the tree, her voice trembling. “Did I fail her?”
The Starwood’s glow shifted, as if acknowledging her question. It was said that the tree’s roots reached into the depths of the dream, touching the currents of every soul that had ever walked Lemuria. Naera closed her eyes and allowed herself to drift, seeking answers within the dream’s embrace.
Memories rose unbidden, carrying her back to the time so long ago when she and Lilith stood together at the founding of the Matriarchs. Lilith, radiant and resolute, had led them with the confidence of one who understood the weight of their responsibility. Naera had been her friend and close confidante, the one who had believed most fervently in the dream of a stable and harmonious Lemuria.
She was barely more than a girl then, full of curiosity and boundless hope. Her mother, a mage of modest skill, had often told her stories growing up of how the gods were holding the dream for us in the century since our world had formed, but that it was time for us to do it ourselves. Aiyink'thak—the beautiful goddess of the divine feminine and of the living dream—and Almagroth—divine masculine god of lucidity—had given the gift of Lucid Awareness to Lilith, who was now looking for other women to help her stabilize the dream. Naera had idolized Lilith, imagining herself one day standing among the ranks of the Matriarchs, holding the threads of reality with grace and wisdom, creating something even more beautiful than what the gods had wrought.
But the dream of her childhood was not as she had imagined. As a Matriarch, Naera had come to understand the delicate balance required to maintain the dream of Lemuria. She had learned that harmony was not a given but a choice—one that demanded sacrifice. She had seen the people of Lemuria moving through their days in blissful serenity, their faces glowing with the joy imposed by the dream.
As the second eldest of the Matriarchs, Naera had helped weave the Euphoria that blanketed Lemuria, believing it to be the greatest gift they could give. Yet as time passed, she began to see the cracks in their creation. The joy, unbidden and unchanging, stifled the people’s true desires and robbed them of growth. The Euphoria woven by the Matriarchs ensured contentment for all, but Naera began to see it for what it was: a gilded veil that blanketed true desires and stifled deeper longings. It was a harmony maintained not through understanding, but through suppression, where wishes and growth were sacrificed to preserve an illusion of perfection. It was a veil, shimmering and beautiful, yet suffocating.
She realized that the Euphoria had not been a gift to the world, but a tool to suppress discontent, ensuring harmony at the cost of individuality. The people of the world had become shadows of who they might have been, their desires and growth stifled under the perfection of the dream. It was a paradise too seamless to foster growth, and Naera had begun to see the cracks beneath the golden surface. She had seen the shadow of stagnation creeping into their perfect world, the price of a paradise too perfect to grow. She had resolved to speak with Lilith and begin to change things.
And then Adam died. His death was like a tear in the fabric of reality, and the Euphoria could not shield Lilith from the profound sorrow that followed. Her pain rippled through the dream of Lemuria, touching every thread. The brightest among them, Lilith, was consumed by a grief that the dream itself could not contain. Her sorrow became a shadow on the perfect golden light, a reminder of what the Matriarchs were only beginning to understand: that no amount of imposed joy could truly heal a broken heart.
“Was it wrong to act?” Naera murmured, her hands clenching the fabric of her robe. “Was it wrong to challenge her, knowing the pain it would bring?”
The dream shifted, and she saw the moment she had first stood against Lilith, her heart a tempest of fear and determination.
In the memory, Lilith’s eyes burned with fury, her voice trembling as she shouted words laced with grief and defiance. Yet beneath the fire, there was something else. Pain—a raw, unrelenting ache that had hollowed her out. Isolation—the suffocating loneliness of being untouchable even among her closest sisters. Bella, the third eldest Matriarch, had tried valiantly. Even at the height of the skirmish, Bella had attempted to sway Lilith from her path to no avail.
Naera saw the threads of it all, the way Adam’s death had fractured something vital in Lilith, a fracture the Euphoria could never mend. It was a mirror of what Naera now felt within herself—the weight of guilt, the ache of understanding too late, and the pain of the darkness that anger had wrought.
The Starwood’s light grew brighter, pulling her from the memory. She realized then that her regret was not born solely from the skirmish or the wounds it had caused. It was the knowledge that she had acted without seeing the fullness of Lilith’s pain. She had seen only the danger, not the person beneath it.
“I was afraid,” Naera admitted aloud, the words raw in her throat. “Afraid of what she could become. Afraid of what I might lose if I didn’t act.”
The grove seemed to breathe with her confession, the air lighter somehow. Naera felt a warmth settle over her, a gentle reassurance that the dream had heard her truth. She looked up at the Starwood, its branches shimmering with light.
“I cannot undo what has been done,” she said, her voice steadier now. “But I can choose differently moving forward. I can seek to understand, to see the person behind the pain.”
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Naera felt a spark of hope. She rose to her feet and placed a hand on the Starwood’s trunk. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Perhaps with Bella’s unwavering heart and their shared love, they could become the light that guided Lilith back from the edge of despair. Naera resolved to honor the dream not as a flawless artifact to be guarded, but as a living, breathing tapestry, rich with imperfections and complexity. In embracing this truth, she hoped to weave a thread of healing into the rift that had torn them apart. And in that mending, perhaps, they could restore both their bond and the dream of Lemuria itself, brightened by the lessons of its shadows.
