"Oh, there you are, Kaizel!" her mother gasped, her voice trembling with relief and disbelief. "We missed you so much!"
The little girl stood frozen for a heartbeat, her wide, tear-filled eyes locked onto her parents. Then, like a dam breaking, she cried out, "Mama! Papa! Mama! Papa!" and sprinted toward them, her small feet kicking up dust from the stone floor.
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she ran, her arms outstretched. The moment she reached them, she threw herself into their embrace with all the strength her little body could muster. They caught her instantly, falling to their knees together in the middle of the corridor. Her sobs came in waves, muffled against her mother's shoulder, her fingers clinging desperately to her father's cloak.
"Shhh… it's okay now, Kaizel," her mother whispered, cradling her close, her own tears falling silently into Kaizel's silver-streaked hair. "You're safe… you're safe, my precious girl."
Her father wrapped his arms around both of them, his voice rough with emotion. "Lord Jakinn heard our prayers… and He answered. He saved you, Kaizel." He paused, his gaze distant for a moment. "Though… it wasn't the god we prayed to. It was the god who came to us."
He pulled back slightly, cupping Kaizel's face with calloused hands and smiling through his tears. "We're going to stay here now, little one. This castle… it will be our home. And together, as a family, we will serve and live in peace." With gentle fingers, he brushed her hair behind her ear, then ruffled it like he used to when she was younger. "No more running. No more hiding."
Suddenly, a soft echoing sound interrupted the moment.
Tip tap... tip tap...
Footsteps—measured and graceful—approached from the dim corridor beyond the courtyard. The air shifted, tinged with a faint, silvery glow as if moonlight itself had slipped inside the walls.
A shadow appeared first—tall and slender, moving with otherworldly grace. As it stepped closer, the figure took shape: a woman draped in flowing robes that shimmered like starlight on a midnight lake. Her silver hair cascaded like liquid moonlight over her shoulders, and her eyes, long and luminous, held the depth of ancient skies.
"Greetings, Moon Elves," she said, her voice a soft echo that resonated deep within their chests. "You have nothing to fear. I give you my word."
Kaizel's parents stood protectively, though they remained close to their daughter.
"I know what you've heard," the woman continued. "Jakinn may be called an evil god… but understand this—titles mean little. Evil beings can do good. And good beings, too, may fall to cruelty. It is not the name that defines the soul—but the choices made."
Kaizel's mother swallowed hard. "Who… who are you?" she asked quietly, awe softening her features.
The woman smiled gently. "Forgive me. My name is Kaios. I am a goddess of the moon."
A breathless silence fell.
Then, as if pulled by instinct, both parents dropped to one knee, bowing their heads low.
"Goddess Kaios," they murmured in reverence. "Forgive our lack of awareness. We did not know…"
"There is nothing to forgive," Kaios said kindly, her voice like wind through leaves. She knelt, bringing herself eye-level with the little girl who peeked out from behind her father's cloak. "Little one…" she said with warmth that radiated like a mother's touch, "I'm so happy to see you're safe. Come—let me see you with my own eyes."
Kaizel looked up at her parents. Her eyes still shimmered with tears, but their encouraging nods gave her the strength to step forward. Slowly, hesitantly, she walked toward the moon goddess, her steps soft against the stone floor.
Kaios opened her arms and Kaizel stepped into them, burying her face against the goddess's chest. The warmth she felt was unlike anything she had known—calm, safe, sacred.
The goddess leaned in, her lips close to Kaizel's ear, and whispered, "Do not be afraid, little one. The path ahead may twist and turn… but you are not alone. And now, before the stars climb too high in the sky… let me tell you a story true story of good and evil."
"High Priestess Kaiari! It's almost time for the Moon Festival. Is everything ready?" a young voice called urgently.
"Ahhh yes, Brother Maidel," Kaiari replied, her tone serene but firm. "Once the moon reaches its zenith, we'll begin the sacred prayers. Then the festival will follow."
"Good, good," Maidel nodded, satisfied. "I'll inform the other priests and priestesses."
Kaiari turned toward the grand balcony overlooking the glowing city of the Moon Elves. Soft silver lanterns floated through the air, illuminating the marble spires and curved moon-shaped rooftops. The High Priestess stood in quiet reflection, her silken robes shifting with the breeze like ripples across a lake.
How far she had come.
From a naive young elf, eager to prove herself, to High Priestess of the Moon. She had endured trials few could imagine. She had made a vow, one she carried like armor upon her soul: Help whoever needs help. Never turn away a lost soul. Do not harm what Mother Moon has gifted us.
The moon climbed higher until it reached its peak in the night sky, casting silvery light upon the entire city. At that sacred moment, the priests and priestesses began to hum—deep, resonant tones that vibrated in harmony with the moonlight itself. The elves around them joined in, forming a choir of thousands. Soon, every Moon Elf stood still beneath the stars, their voices united in a sacred rhythm that echoed through the soul.
It was a clear night. The stars sparkled like ancient watchers, and the moon shone brighter than it had in decades. As the final chant ended, the solemn stillness gave way to joy—the festival had begun. Music rang out, dancers filled the streets, and laughter rose like smoke into the heavens.
The days that followed were filled with celebration, feasting, and unity. But on the sixth night of the festival, the joy shattered.
A crackling sound echoed through the city—sharp and unnatural.
Then fire.
Smoke rose quickly. Screams followed.
"The city is under attack!" a guard shouted. "Everyone, to the cathedral! Seek shelter!"
Kaiari's heart pounded as she rushed through the chaos. Flames devoured homes. Monsters and devils poured in from beyond the trees—claws, teeth, horns. A Beast Tide.
"High Priestess!" someone shouted.
She turned. A bloodied priest stumbled toward her. "It's bad," he gasped. "Brother Maidel has… he's fallen. The tide is unlike anything we've ever seen. The barriers are failing."
Kaiari looked down at her trembling hands. She was holding a cloth soaked in crimson. It was Maidel's blood. She had tried to save him—had whispered prayers through clenched teeth, pressed her hands against the wound—but it had been too late.
Another priest ran up, pale and panicked. "High Priestess! We must go! To the cathedral! If we can raise the sacred barrier, we can protect the remaining souls!"
A tear traced down Kaiari's cheek. Her grip tightened on the bloody cloth.
"Go!" she snapped, voice hoarse. "Put up your barrier! I don't care. I'll... I'm..."
The other elves exchanged sorrowful glances, then turned and ran toward the cathedral.
Kaiari collapsed to her knees, gripping the blood-soaked fabric to her chest. "Why?" she whispered. "Maidel… why did you leave me? I'm all alone now. I don't want to be alone…"
"Ohhh… all alone…" a teasing voice echoed from the darkness.
Kaiari's head snapped up. Her eyes darted around, but saw no one. "Who's there?" she called, her voice trembling.
"You are never alone, young one," the voice replied, closer now—whispering, intimate.
"Who are you?" she demanded.
"Oh, me? I'm no one. A nobody. Just a voice in your head…"
"Leave me alone!" Kaiari cried out, clenching her fists.
"Really?" the voice chuckled. "You just said you didn't want to be alone. Don't you want to avenge Maidel? Don't you want to protect your people?"
"I do… but what can I do? I swore an oath to the Moon Goddess!"
A wicked giggle echoed through the shadows.
"Silly little priestess. Let me tell you a secret… There is no Moon Goddess in this world. Well… not yet."
Kaiari's heart clenched. "Then what have I been praying to all these years?" she whispered.
"You prayed to me," the voice answered smoothly. "But don't worry—I never listened. Why would I help people who refuse to help themselves? But you, Kaiari… you have strength. You could help them. You could hear their prayers. Just… close your eyes and listen."
Swallowing hard, Kaiari obeyed.
At first, there was only silence.
Then—one voice.
Then another.
And another.
Crying. Pleading. Screaming. Prayers in thousands of voices filled her mind all at once—desperate, aching, terrified.
"Ahhhhhh! Make it stop!" Kaiari screamed, clutching her head.
A crisp snap echoed through her skull—and the voices vanished.
"See?" the voice said sweetly. "Who would want to listen to that all day? Now… make your choice, young one."
Her eyes opened.
"Go."
"Go, my chosen one. Feed your rage. Let it loose… and follow your heart."
With a blinding light erupting around Kaiari, she ran straight into the chaos. Her hands reached forward instinctively—and from that light, a gleaming silver scythe materialized, shaped like a crescent moon. With a fierce cry, she swung it in a wide arc, slicing through a hulking beast that had just leapt toward a terrified elven mother and her child.
"Go!" Kaiari shouted, her voice ringing like thunder. "Get up! Run to the cathedral!"
The mother scooped up her child, eyes wide with awe and tears, and fled. "Thank you!" she cried as they disappeared into the crowd.
More elves were saved by Kaiari's relentless efforts, but the number of beasts and devils only seemed to grow. She fought like a storm given flesh—her robe torn, her arms slick with blood, her eyes glowing with a silvery fury.
Then—she heard it. A loud crack.
Kaiari turned sharply. Her breath caught.
The barrier protecting the cathedral was fracturing. Fading. Seconds from collapsing.
She sprinted, her legs burning, her vision blurred with sweat and blood. When she reached it, a swarm of monsters was already closing in. With a guttural cry, she swung her scythe and carved through them like wind through leaves.
Her body screamed in exhaustion. Blood—some hers, most not—dripped from her chin. She stumbled, then stood tall, pressing her hand—sticky with blood and magic—against the faltering barrier.
"Not yet," she whispered.
A beam of pure moonlight erupted from her palm, surging into the cracked shield. The barrier pulsed, then drank the magic like a starving bloom. It shone anew—strong, unbreakable.
Kaiari turned without a word and ran back into the fray.
She didn't stop.
For days, she fought.
On the final day, when the last beast had fallen and silence returned, Kaiari collapsed to her knees. The ground beneath her was soaked with blood and ash. Behind her stood the cathedral—untouched, unharmed.
And then—they all saw it.
Moonlight, soft and sacred, poured from the heavens. It bathed her in silver light. And from that light… a figure stepped forth.
A god cloaked in shadows.
A voice echoed across the land, reaching every elven ear.
"Rise."
"Rise, Moon Goddess Kaios. You have proven yourself. You have saved your kin. With your courage, your sacrifice, and your strength... I grant you divinity."
A thunderous cheer erupted. Every Moon Elf wept with joy and pride. Their savior—no longer just a priestess, no longer mortal—had become divine.
But as the cheers rang out, Kaiari looked at the figure and whispered, so that only he could hear:
"…Are you the voice in my head?"
The figure nodded slowly, eyes shimmering beneath the hood.
"Yes," he said with a faint smile. "And you've proven something powerful today. That even a good person can cause harm in the name of love. And now… I shall prove that even an evil god can do good—by granting you this divinity."
He extended his hand.
Kaiari—now Kaios—took it.
In a burst of starlight, they vanished.
----------------------------------------------------------------
"…And that, little one," Kaios said softly, ruffling Kaizel's hair, "is the legend of the Moon Goddess."
Clap clap clap.
A slow, echoing applause echoed through the grand hall of the castle.
"I see you're still telling children's stories," a voice said with a teasing tone. "But isn't it a little self-indulgent to recite your own legend, Kaios?"
Jakinn stood in the doorway, smirking.