Dahyun didn’t want to look at the sky. She found the river instead, fighting the urge to plunge in face first and let it carry her somewhere. 

She knew that was drastic of her. She knew she was being idiotic wandering off when she should have been with the hunters. They had looked at her with gentle eyes, with more understanding than Dahyun knew she’d ever get with another god. They knew what she grappled with. And yet Dahyun didn’t want to acknowledge it. Not properly. To discuss it would bring other thoughts to the forefront. Thoughts filled with doubt and fear. Thoughts of the abyss that had caused this doubt. 

For a moment, she debated going straight to the Underworld then and there. She could go to Hades himself and suggest a punishment that was almost worse than Tartarus, at least when the scope of eternity was considered. 

She pushed it down. The fates of those in Tartarus were terrible enough alone. How could she possibly add the doubt she felt now to that? That was hardly a consideration to have. 

Sighing, Dahyun took a step forward and fell into the river. It was remarkably cold. She took a sharp breath, but let herself be submerged. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw naiads gazing at her with raised eyebrows. She nodded at them, but otherwise ignored the spirits. She’d rarely done this before, so the news of a goddess floating through was likely to be the talk of the decade, perhaps even century for them. 

The duller sound of the water filled her ears completely. She closed her eyes, her body slowly getting accustomed to the cold. She could only focus on that: nearly freezing and holding her breath while doing it. No other thoughts came to mind. Perfect. 

She drifted for quite a long time. She hadn’t known how long this river went for. 

But so many good things come to an end. This came as a gradual narrowing of the banks and a decrease in depth. The rocks slid across her legs, up her back, before settling on her head. She was still underwater, but no longer moving. No longer moving with the water, it only washed over her.

She lay there until holding her breath became painful. It marked the actual end to whatever madness had driven her to falling in the first time. 

Reluctantly, Dahyun sat up, taking a deep breath as she did. The breeze brushed across her soaked form. It left her colder than she had been first diving in. She could’ve smiled. Another force of nature to combat. 

She got up. It was even darker than it had been, now that she was away from the camp. She didn’t look to see where the moon was. It wasn’t that she didn’t know. She always did, even when it wasn’t in the sky. She just didn’t need to see it, nor the night sky that stretched out behind it. It would only remind her of what she wished to hide away from. 

Yet its presence was always there, now within her more than it had been before. Its light felt both cool and warm on her skin. She’d never really felt the moonlight, only appreciated it for what it was. A light when there was little warmth in the air, not like that of the sun, which almost always carried only heat. She wondered if her journey to the moon had changed anything on that front. It had certainly affected her. 

She brushed those thoughts aside. Now was not the time to wonder. It was the time to move. 

So she walked even further from camp, still dripping from her small journey. Both her legs and arms were numb. She fiddled with her fingers, hoping to have some feeling there. Although she was quite certainly immortal, it didn’t mean she was invincible in a fight. She could still be attacked. She could still be dragged off somewhere, either to Tartarus or some other prison. Or someone could be even more cruel and put her back into space. 

She shook her head and drew her knife. She tossed it between her hands, admiring the small sounds the activity made. There was the initial rustle of her skin against the wooden handle, a small moment of silence, before it hit the other hand with a very subdued thud. 

Soon, she grew bored. She found a fallen tree in the distance, perhaps twenty metres away. Drawing back her arm, she threw the blade. It made impact with a sharp crack.

Dahyun went over, her clothes clinging to her skin.

She’d split the wood. It was an older trunk and it now revealed half-dry, half-damp wood. She knelt down, took out her knife, and started carving into it. What began as a pattern turned into the simple activity of tearing out the inner bark.

Splinters dug into her fingers, but like the cold, it drove other thoughts from her mind. She moved onto the cambium, satisfied with how easily it gave way to her. Then she got to the heartwood and carved that out as well. In the back of her mind, she thought to save the rest of the tree, keep that wood for making new shafts of arrows and bows. 

For the moment, she pushed it away and continued to dig her knife into the wood.

It might have been several minutes or hours. She only paid attention to the wood and how it fell away in smaller to larger trunks. It was a fallen tree, so it wasn’t a blatant attack on any dryad. They likely wouldn’t take kindly to what she was doing, but no spirit interrupted her. There wasn’t even a stray leaf or branch sent to cut her exposed skin as they sometimes liked to do if disrespected. 

Then she reached the outer bark on the other side. Her fingers had left smears of blood on the surrounding bark. The gold and pale brown hardly looked unusual, but when it came to the outer bark and the soil, it was as though gold shavings had made their way to the forest floor. She made the blood vanish and sent the two halves of the tree trunk back to camp. Not all of the hunters liked woodwork, but those who did would leap at the chance. Even if it couldn’t properly be used, it would encourage the rest to take on the other pieces of wood they’d gathered in the past weeks. 

Dahyun sat down properly and looked at her hands. They were littered with scrapes and splinters. She started pulling them out. And that was when her thoughts returned to her. 

It had been two weeks since they’d returned to Earth. Her team had been remarkably animated. They’d invited her to their celebratory evenings. She’d gone to each of them and had little fun. The hunters had enjoyed themselves. So something good had come of it. 

No god had come to see her. She was both thankful for it and, likely against her better judgement, disappointed. She wouldn’t have wanted to see her father, certainly not her “mother”, but perhaps her sisters or one of her brothers. There was another, one whose name she wanted to think, but also didn’t dare. 

It was almost ironic that she hadn’t come. Wasn’t this the state that Dahyun should have been in? Wasn’t this exactly what that goddess had wanted? She hadn’t been in Dahyun’s realm once, which was peculiar in and of itself. Her absence had been something else to think about, something that didn’t require her to dwell on her doubt. 

Yet for all her speculation, Dahyun had thought of no proper reason as to why. Either she didn’t believe them plausible or, frustratingly, she didn’t want them to be true. Would that goddess have taken to engaging in the multitude of mortal ceremonies taking place now? It was most likely her element. She was almost to be envied. Be her efforts an escape or not, this goddess’ methods of engaging with the mortal world were likely an effective way of avoiding proper thought. Dahyun almost wished she could do the same. 

A few things held her from disappearing into the mortal world: her lingering distaste for it, her common sense, and what little remained of her pride. Dahyun clung to that reluctance more than she did distraction.

After cleaning her hands in the river, she was almost at a loss for what to do next. She wouldn’t return to the camp. Not yet. 

Her clothes were still very damp and she was a few degrees away from shivering. She didn’t want to dry them yet. The biting cold was something she could endure. Most others couldn’t. So she’d let the clothes dry on their own. 

But she didn’t want to sit and wait for it to happen. That just made it worse. 

Dahyun decided she’d run instead. She weaved through the trees, evading branches when she could and ducking beneath them if she had to. Though the air rushing past just made her colder, it felt good to properly move. 

Then she saw it. A basilisk. Something she could fight. 

Dahyun came to a halt, kneeling behind a tree. She inspected her knife and cleaned it, wiping away the wood shavings and sap. She took out her other blade and leapt for the large snake. It wasn’t like in that film where the basilisk was larger than any tree, but the beast wasn’t small either. 

It hissed as she came for it, head shooting up from the ground. 

Dahyun evaded, but couldn’t make a blow. She quickly got to her feet as the snake made another launching movement. She batted it away with her arm before charging after it. She sank her knife into its body. Too low. 

The snake’s fangs buried themselves into her upper arm. Dahyun hissed. 

She grabbed the base of its head, nearly crushing it as she did. She drove the knife into its brain. A quick kill. She sent its corpse back to the camp. Its teeth would have traces of golden blood on it. She hoped the girls wouldn’t worry. They tended to forget that she couldn’t die. 

Even so, the bite burned like no other. Her shoulder was all but immobile. She’d been too eager in the fight, caught in the thrill of being in one again. It was a plain reminder that she needed to clear her mind. Somehow. 

Was the solution to that properly speaking about it? Letting herself be carried by a river hardly helped, finding solace during a hunt didn’t seem to help either. The same applied to menial work or tasks that let her work out any anger she had. So little of it truly helped. They only served as temporary lights in whatever gloom she was stuck in now. 

The hunters worried when she doubted. Though they knew what she felt, actually seeing a god in turmoil was frightening. Dahyun attributed it to the belief that a god was supposed to be fully confident in what they believed. They were the ones others believed in, the ones whose existence all but overturned other faiths. Gods were not supposed to doubt. 

And she doubted.

My realm brings food and safety to those in need, focus to those who seek it out, and a place for those who have none.

She had told that to Sana once. How long had it been? Months? No, it had been years. 

Dahyun still believed that. Her realm did indeed achieve those things for others. It didn’t seem to do the same for her. She was never in need of food and safety. And now, she hardly knew if a forest such as this was her place. Nor did it bring her actual focus. When she was hunting, gathering, or simply walking, yes. But there was no focus given to her thoughts. 

Dahyun sighed. She’d also begun to shiver. 

She then remembered that she’d thought a particular goddess’ name. Weeks ago, this goddess might have appeared to remark on that fact, but now she was nowhere to be found. 

She was even looking around for her. With a jolt, Dahyun realised she was disappointed. Yet another question to consider. Yet another question she dismissed, pushing it instead to the very back of her mind.

The disappointment remained. 

_____

Sana had felt the tugs on her mind more than once in the past months. It should’ve been impossible. The goddess of the hunt thinking about her? Sometimes it felt as if she wanted her there. 

And Sana couldn’t go to her. 

Well, she could have. She wanted to. But she wasn’t supposed to. 

Each time she felt it, each time she was on the brink of vanishing into thin air and going straight to the forest, the words of two gods entered her mind. 

You’re a threat to the vows she took. 

I can’t allow you to risk what’s most sacred to her. 

Sana still didn’t believe she could do that. She was mildly insulted that this was what they thought of her.

But another part of her knew that their suspicions were based in reality. 

There had been a time when she’d wanted to break those vows, but she’d only ever wanted to do it herself. The other huntresses whose vows she’d broken had been through other means, ones worse than her own personal inclusion. All of those actions were deserving of scrutiny and condemnation. 

And now, the thought of what she’d done and once wanted to do disgusted her. That disgust might have also been what was holding her back. What if Mina was right and vulnerability exposed the moon goddess to have thoughts she would never have otherwise had?

That was it. It was the vulnerability that made her think about Sana. She might have been thinking about many others, but no one was coming.

Sana frowned at that thought. Mina had said she didn’t want to face the thoughts her sister was having now. Was she not going to her either? Was everyone just letting the goddess grapple with whatever revelations she’d had on the moon? 

Sana was one of them. She was avoiding directly thinking about her, purposefully turning all thoughts away from the bond that tied the minds of gods to those who prayed to them. It made her feel worse. She wanted to go, but she was probably the only one actually dissuaded from doing anything. And those who were allowed to see her weren’t. Was Apollo also remaining silent?

The air became hot then. Sana sighed. Of course he would come. 

Apollo appeared in a shower of gold. It was something very consistent about him. 

“Yes?” he drawled, a lazy smile appearing. 

Sana was torn between telling him to go and asking one of the questions burning on her mind. Surprisingly, she chose with surprising ease. 

“Have you gone to see her?”

The smile faded. Even the cockiness eased from his eyes. “Yeah.”

Sana felt her hope rise. She was also impressed. “And?”

“She should’ve never gone up there.” The sun god’s eyes had darkened. “I should’ve realised it was foolish.”

“What did she say about it?”

“Nothing,” Apollo replied. There wasn’t any movement of his eyes from one place to another. He was telling the truth. “Not even the hunters’ll say anything.”

“Because they don’t like you,” Sana said. 

He frowned. “How do you know?”

“I heard it,” she smiled slightly, “and I know you eye them each time you’re there.”

Apollo rolled his eyes. “Not my fault she gets some of the prettiest girls.” 

“You’d have more luck with the Amazons,” she shot back. 

“I have.”

Sana made to cover her ears. This she didn’t have to know more about. 

“You should talk to her.”

She took her hands from her ears. Had she heard him right?

Apollo only looked at her expectantly. 

“What?” 

“She doesn’t hate you anymore,” he shrugged, “and from what I’ve seen, she talks to you too.”

“From what you’ve seen?” Sana repeated. The words sink in. “Do you watch over her?”

His brow rose. “‘Course I do.”

“And you overhear her every conversation?” Sana didn’t know what to make of that. Had he listened each time?

“Not every one,” he shook his head, “just the ones that, well, might need me to be there.”

She frowned. “So you thought I was a threat?” Another who dwelled on the past. 

He raised his hands in a half surrender. “Maybe at first.” Then he sighed. “But I stop listening at some points. Like when you started helping her with her wounds and didn’t make a move.”

Sana raised a brow. “That wasn’t very long ago.” And she'd been tempted to close the distance then. She hadn't. For the same reasons why she'd not gone to her now. 

“No,” he grinned, “but at least I know she wouldn’t crucify you if you went to her.”

“Why should I go?” 

His expression turned serious. It went very quickly. Sana wondered if there wasn’t more to the sun god than most gave him credit for. Including his sister. “I’m worried about her,” he said. “And you get her to actually talk. Somehow.”

That confused her more. Sana tried not to let it show. Was she just some last resort and Apollo was grasping at straws? She’d poke at that some more. 

“Others don’t want me to go to her.” Just saying it aloud made the reality of it more real. It was better if she didn’t go to her, no matter what Apollo said about her not being crucified. 

“I mean,” he started to glow gold, “as long as you don’t get in her pants, we don’t have a problem.” Then he disappeared. 

Sana was almost going to follow him, if only to land a blow to his face for that last comment. 

Instead, she stayed where she was, her mind in a worser state than it had been. 

When the next tug at her mind came in the days that followed, Sana ignored it. She hadn’t gone to a forest or mountain since the mission to the moon. She missed it. 

The idea that the goddess even wanted to see her made it all even worse. She missed her. 

Sana chose to quell one of those emotions. She disappeared, appearing again atop a cliff she’d once sat at before. It wasn’t night yet, but the colours of the sunset were breathtaking all on their own. 

She searched the sky for the moon, finding its hazy outline. It was still so bright. Was that still from Dahyun being on the moon? Or did it mean something else? Did touching the moon mean it was more closely tied to its goddess? Wasn’t that supposed to be a good sign?

Another tug on her mind. Was it because Sana had been thinking about her?

Has something happened to you?

Dahyun’s voice was soft. Careful. 

This’s the first time you’ve been in nature in a while. I didn’t let you come to my realm so it’d become a vacation spot. 

Sana had to smile. She closed her eyes, anticipating wherever Dahyun was. She felt the pull through space and nearly became dizzy with the momentum. 

When she opened her eyes, she was in a park. It was empty, but there was still light. The slope in front of her rolled easily down to a large pond. There were the sounds of wind rustling through the sparsely spread out trees, as well as the distant rumbles of cars. 

“A park?” Sana asked. She looked around and saw Dahyun glowing softly. Even her eyes shone. She sat on a bench, gazing out at the park with far too distant eyes. 

“Thought you’d find me in a bar instead?” Dahyun asked, her voice sounding heavier than normal. Deeper. “Apollo did.” She chuckled. “I’ve been offered it, even Dionysus sent over some wine, thinking it was needed.”

“Was it?” Sana didn’t know if she should sit down or not. Against her wishes, Mina and Horkos’ words were coming into her thoughts again and again. 

“I like to drink for enjoyment,” she said. “Usually. And when you’re not in good spirits, a sharp mind is especially necessary.”

Not in good spirits. 

It was an admission few would expect from a god, especially this one. 

But Dahyun had said many things that were unexpected for a god. 

“And with how much it takes to get someone like us intoxicated, it’d be a poor waste of it.” Dahyun leaned back against the stone. Her eyes were just tired. She was looking straight ahead instead of up. Even though it was night. 

Then Sana noted the thick jacket Dahyun wore. She was hugging her legs to her chest. 

“Are you cold?” Not too long ago, Sana had seen her in freezing temperatures with a far thinner coat. The goddess of the hunt hadn’t bat an eye then. 

“I got a cold,” Dahyun muttered. “Apparently we can get those as well if careless. And a snake bit me.”

Apollo had been worried about her. Was it for this reason?

Sana wanted to ask what she’d done to even get a cold, but Dahyun beat her to it. 

“Why did you come?” There was no venom in her voice. Just fatigue. 

“You asked me to?” Had she really? Or had Sana just mistaken a small jest for a request?

“I did,” Dahyun said. “But you hadn’t come before.” The corner of her lip tugged up, but it quickly faded to a frown. “This time you wanted to see me?” Nothing in her tone said if she was hopeful or judgmental. 

“Is that so bad?” Sana sat down as far away as she could on the bench. 

“Depends.” 

Should Sana have been honest about why she hadn’t come? Why she’d waited? 

No. She pushed the urge down. What if that just made this worse? 

“Did something happen there?” Sana asked instead. “On the moon?” 

The response was silence. Dahyun frowned at the space in front of her, as if trying to find the words there. 

“The moon became brighter,” Sana continued. “After you’d been on it. It was shining even more than before.” 

“At least one of us got something out of it.” She looked down at her hands.

“Didn’t you feel different afterwards?” Sana asked. “Stronger?” 

Dahyun’s frown deepened. 

Had she given too much away? Admitted she’d seen something that way? 

“I guess.” One of her eyebrows rose. “Do I look as radiant?”

“Yes,” Sana said. 

The other eyebrow joined it. “Mina will love to hear that.” 

“You don’t?”

Dahyun shrugged. “If that’s all I get from it, then I could’ve done without it.” 

“Really?”

“Sana,” Dahyun started, before shaking her head. A crooked smile appeared. “I feel lost.” A pause, as if expecting a response. One Sana didn’t know how to give. “Didn’t my careless thoughts show you as much?”

She felt a flicker of hurt then, but pushed it down. 

“You told me you hoped I’d find what I was looking for,” Dahyun said. “Did you even have an idea what that was supposed to be?”

“Perspective?” Sana asked. She didn’t really know what Dahyun had sought, but she didn’t want to admit that.

That wasn't to say she hadn't thought about why. Why go somewhere else? Earth was perfect for what they did. Why go somewhere distant from it? Why devote years of work to doing one thing?

Another shrug, but Dahyun didn’t say anything. She looked like she was considering Sana’s words. She brushed a hand through her hair. It was silver again. Her hair glittered, as though each strand had caught a few speckles of the moon in it. 

“I guess you’re right,” Dahyun sighed, “and I might have gotten it.”

The moon is cold. 

“But you don’t like it.”

“I hate it,” the moon goddess snapped. Then the expression softened. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Sana replied. Should she move closer or stay right where she was? She decided to stay away. 

“I went up there with questions. The simple ones involved how the Earth looked from a distance, what it would be like to stand completely apart from it.” A pause. “And then I suppose I was also looking for a better perspective on that piece of rock.”

Are we our realms? You become love, a feeling, while I'm the pale orb in the sky?

Did Dahyun still associate herself with the moon? Her words towards it were so dismissive. She hadn’t looked up at the sky, even though it was clear tonight. 

“And what did you get?” Sana didn’t feel as if she could comment on anything yet. Was she even supposed to? Dahyun had been more forthcoming in the recent past. It was better to just let her speak. 

“I once told you that I was considering where a god’s faith should be placed.” Dahyun’s mouth parted, as if to say something more. Then it closed. “And now I know,” she sighed again, “that I don’t know the answer to that.” 

They were both quiet. Cars still drove. Music played somewhere with a heavy beat. Sana was quite sure Dahyun wouldn’t like songs like that. 

Then Dahyun laughed. It was a dry sound. Then she coughed. It was still difficult for Sana to reconcile the fact that the goddess was ill. She still didn’t know how it had happened. 

“You know,” the goddess of the moon said, her eyes without humour. “I think something might have come from it.” She didn’t leave time for Sana to ask. “I know what I want now. Meaning.” Her head sank. “So there, the answer to your many questions. That is what I want.” 

“The answer to my many questions?” Sana repeated. She needed time to comprehend the rest. Meaning? Dahyun had that in her life. She had nature, the hunt, and her hunters. She knew that. Was it a different meaning she sought?

“Many times you poked at it, asking what I actually wanted, what would follow once I’d been to the moon, once I was finished with wasting my time.” She squinted at her, coughing once again. “So living eternity searching for meaning, what are your thoughts about that?” 

Do you think I’ve changed for the better?

Another question that Dahyun expected her to answer. Another question Sana didn’t know how to answer. At least not yet. 

“It’s alright if you have none,” Dahyun shook her head, “I think if all gods had seen what I had, you’d have been at a loss too.” She scoffed. “Out there you feel very small. Insignificant.” Her eyes shone brighter. “I was standing on the epitome of my being: the moon.” She stared into the distance, almost demonstrably not looking up. “And it was the weakest I’d ever felt.” She closed her eyes and the small space between her eyelids glowed. That light trickled down her cheeks.

It’s not light, Sana thought with a start. She moved closer and brushed the two trails of light away. Dahyun's skin was cool, but the tears were warm. 

Dahyun did not start, though she opened her eyes. Beneath silver irises, the tears in her eyes glowed white. Both her eyes seemed to glow completely. Her tears right after coming back to Earth hadn’t glowed. Did this mean that her connection with the moon had strengthened?

Sana let her hands stay where they were. Dahyun didn’t push them away.

“You already have things in your life that mean something,” Sana said. “You said it yourself. Your,” she nearly said realm, but knew that wouldn’t be a reassurance, “family. I know well enough that they give a person meaning.”

“My family has rarely done that,” Dahyun replied. “You know that. With the exception of some.”

“I meant the hunters. You’re in their care, just as they are in yours.” She hoped that would reach her. “They were there when you returned. There when you were losing yourself.” 

Dahyun frowned then. “You were there?” She pulled away.

Sana let her hands drop to her sides. Did she have to be honest?

“What did I say then?”

She had to be. “You said space was freezing and that the moon was cold.” 

Dahyun looked away, her eyes almost stony. “It wasn’t long ago,” she began, “but you said that if I thought your name, you’d come.” A grimace appeared. “And many times I have,” she bit her lip, “so why hadn’t you come until now?” 

How many times would Sana have to struggle for a response? Mina’s and Horkos’ words returned. 

“I thought it was better not to.”

Silver eyes snapped to hers. “Better how?”

Sana knew then that what she said would have a far greater effect than she wanted to. Their conversation had the potential to end terribly. 

“Sana?” Dahyun spoke her name delicately. 

She wished she wouldn’t yearn to hear her name spoken that way again. She wished she didn’t yearn to see more warmth in Dahyun’s eyes as she looked at her. 

She also hated how difficult it was to think of a response. How many difficult words had she said with ease? How many people had she needed to manoeuvre around to get what she wanted? 

“Don’t start to consider a lie,” the other goddess said. “Especially not one that could lift the spirits.” Still that gentle tone. The look in her eyes was fragile. 

Sana wasn't sure if she'd be able to keep it from breaking. 

“Horkos came to me on the day you left Earth.” 

Dahyun’s brow rose. “Why?”

“He said that I was a threat to your vows.” She closed her eyes and moved away from Dahyun. 

Silence. 

“A threat,” Dahyun murmured. “Just as you’d shattered Polyphonte’s vows? And Helen’s?” Another small stretch of silence. “Why would he have thought so in the first place?” 

One response of: he’s the god of false oaths. He would know if there was doubt. It crossed her mind, but she didn't say it. 

“That was always an exciting prospect for you, wasn’t it?” Dahyun asked. “To make my vows illegitimate, curse me with a spell of love, correct?” A sharp chuckle left her lips. “Is that what happened?” She looked at Sana then. “You finally managed to reign my mind with your magic?”

“What?” Sana gaped at her. “I’ve never been able to do that.” 

“But you have wanted to prove me wrong, haven’t you?” She tilted her head. “You always did. I doubt much of what I hold dear. It only becomes natural to doubt what I’ve sworn to believe.” Another laugh that only cut, rather than relieve. “People find meaning through you. That’s what you said to me.” Her eyes were almost alight with something that was neither anger nor excitement, but something in between. “Is that what you hoped to achieve now?”

“Dahyun, let me speak,” Sana said. “What you’re saying, that’s not fair, I—”

“Not fair?” Dahyun repeated. “Not fair, is pursuing someone who’ll live a fleeting life compared to you. Not fair, is giving them the impression that they’ll be the only one you love, when you’re going to fall for someone else a hundred years later, only to repeat the entire cycle.” She scoffed. “That is the case for many of your lovers, is it not? You might give them meaning in their short lives, but they are but a scrap in your long one.” Her lip curled. “So how can you possibly hope to talk to me about fairness?"

The words cut at her. They’d come from nowhere. Only minutes ago had they spoken of finding meaning. Meaning regarding Dahyun's life, not Sana's. 

“And where was I supposed to come into the picture?” Dahyun asked. “When you came to me so many times. Was it to fill your emptier days? In between the deaths of one and the birth of another? In the moments when none caught your eye?” 

“Dahyun, that’s nothing like it was.” Sana knew her voice bordered on desperate. She was. “You’re saying this as if I had an agenda.”

“Then why would Horkos come to you?” Dahyun’s own words had a ferocity to them that Sana had rarely heard. “If not because you intended to break the final pieces of myself?” 

“Because I didn’t!” Sana snapped. “Yes, I wanted to make you believe you were wrong about love, but I told him you’d never break your vows. And I never want to force you to do anything like that with me.”

The goddess of the moon stared at her, flickers of light here and there across her cheeks and down to her chin. Her eyes were ablaze with emotions Sana couldn’t read. 

“Leave,” Dahyun said. 

The word threw her mind away from itself. Again. “What?”

Dahyun didn’t respond. She only vanished. Only the scent of forests remained.

Sana stayed where she was.The responses, her defence, died on her lips. She could have followed her and explained herself properly. Would Dahyun listen? 

Only the sounds of the city and wind had stayed with her. Otherwise it was silent. Even so, it seemed as if Dahyun’s words still echoed. They’d torn from her, as if they’d waited to pierce the silence for a long time.

_____

Author's Note

A rather late update of mine, I know. I've been both busy and in a writing rut with a few of my stories. This chapter was written in about one full day, messily. And I went back and forth with editing it for about a week. 

The conflict in the chapter, as well as the doubt, is something I've been building up to this entire time. However, getting to it was a difficult journey for me. Not only because of the semi-writing slump I was in, but also because I needed to figure out how exactly the conflict between these two would unfold. There's no 'main plot' so to speak, as in some other stories of mine with a mystery or greater threat. The main plot is the relationship, which isn't always what I write. 

Regardless, surprisingly, I'm quite confident that this is the second-to-last chapter. This is a story whose end I can clearly see earlier than the rest. It's also one that I started when the idea took hold of me and one where I'd known it would be much shorter than my other stories. 

Already, I'd like to thank all of you so much for reading! I'd been worried this story wouldn't be liked all that much, because of it being mythology-based and purely based on an episodic progression of the characters' relationship. It made me incredibly happy to see that people liked it as much as I do! Your feedback never ceased to make me smile and excited to keep writing. 

Would love to know your thoughts on this chapter and how it progressed. Both Dahyun and Sana (Dahyun especially) are quite vulnerable at this point in time. One of them doesn't quite react as well as one would've expected. 

Hope you're doing well! See you in the next chapter. 

Twitter: @hblake44