I hover high above my body observing the Spirits of Darkness as they work to regenerate the damage done to my limbs. The heat of their activity strains against the frigid temperatures brought on by the approach of the moon. As my limbs gradually receive the warmth of new life, I watch my face freeze over—my countenance, forlorn.

For hours I’ve gazed into the distance, watching this blizzard build from the north and blanket the once lush-green mountainside surrounding the remains of our village Asherah. Will this lunar winter spread across the entire planet? I cannot bear the thought. Suddenly a burst of light sounds from below and I’m snapped back into my body. Pain sears into my awareness. All goes black.

I wake to the warmth of a fire and the quiet howl of the wind. A murmuring snore reveals another presence. I cautiously open my eyes to flickering light, quietly straining toward the snore, and rest my vision upon a novelty: a face full of wisdom’s folds. An Aging One? She must be one of the Last. Her wrinkles reveal a habit of smiling. Though I surmise it might wake her, I maintain my gaze, cannot tear it away—for never did I imagine I might behold one of the Last. And, surely enough—she awakes—her eyes, twinkling with firelight, open to meet mine. We maintain contact for what feels like eternity. Just as I begin to feel uncomfortable, a toothless smile spreads across her face. A feeling of relief sweeps over me.

“Good morning, child,” she says to me, “ye a hardy one—I surely knew it!”

“Only thanks to the Spirits of Darkness,” I reply.

“Hush! Don’t speak of them—I don’t want them comin’ round here.”

“I could not dwell on the Earth without them.”

“But ye are more than what they can give.”

“I’m glad you can see that; sometimes I forget.”

“Never forget,” said the old woman, gravely.

Finally feeling comfortable enough, I ask,

“Who are you?”

The toothless smile spreads across her face again; the fire crackles—

“I am Virga—Virga de la Estrella.”

I gasp with surprise. Not only is she an Aging One, one of the Last, but—

“Virga de la Estrella… You—you are… the Last of the Mothers?”

She nods, closing her eyes, and replies,

“That I am, son—that I am.”