Rea smiled. "My name means flow," she said. "And also… the mother of gods. But mostly flow."
She walked on. And the path, which had been closed, opened before her like a flower. At the deepest point of the forest, in a clearing where a single beam of moonlight touched the ground, grew the heart-leaf fern, glowing like a green star.
But Rea went.
Her grandmother, who wove tapestries of such detail that they seemed to move in the firelight, would only smile. "A name is not a label, child. It is a map. Wait until you are lost to read it."