Dahyun did not like clubs. Some of the others did, even Eletha, who had joined her five hundred years ago. She was happily dancing with the other girls, getting slightly puzzled each time a new song came on and the rest of the girls cheered. 

The music wasn’t the problem for Dahyun. She’d endured Apollo’s hymns and ‘riffs’ long enough to not become so picky with the music she enjoyed. No, the problem was the volume of people. She couldn’t tolerate standing somewhere with sudden contacts from strangers and friends alike. A few times she’d nearly landed a blow on the person who had brushed past her arm. She’d been able to restrain herself, but she had grown more and more on edge. 

And now she longed for solitude. And silence. 

“You know,” a familiar voice drawled, “sitting alone at a bar is just asking for someone to approach you.” 

“How can I hear you normally?” Dahyun asked, half shouting over the noise. 

“I can make people hear me just fine when I need them to.” Sana smiled. "Don't worry, you can speak normally to me too." 

Already, Sana had garnered a fair amount of stares from around the bar, as well as from the dance floor. Dahyun felt slightly unnerved by how many there were, both men and women, and how they looked at the goddess of love from head to toe. For a very long time as well. 

Dahyun knew there was cause for that, but each of the humans seemed not to care if they were caught staring. Sana had taken to wearing a pink dress so intense she almost glowed. Dahyun was sure the back was open, given the way that she now leaned over the counter. 

“You look good,” Sana said. “I like your hair like that.” 

Dahyun had made it purple. She’d lost a game that Kendra had introduced. Minnie had promptly suggested she change her hair colour to something ‘wacky’. She herself had a mixture of deep black-green at the top and lighter green at the tips. 

She held a strand of it to her eyes. The colour was slightly difficult to differentiate from other dark colours in the club's lighting. She supposed Sana also had a way of perfectly making out the appearance of others. She certainly had a way of making her own appearance clear, no matter how dark the room was. “Thanks.” 

Sana accepted her drink with a smile. Dahyun didn’t remember her ordering one. “So your vows don’t involve abstinence from this?” She held out her glass. An offer for a toast. 

Dahyun looked at her own. A part of her knew she was starting another conversation now, one she was unlikely to get out of. It would only end when Sana disappeared yet again. She knew how to have that effect. Sana rarely stayed when the discussion strayed into criticism. 

“They don’t.” She tapped her glass to Sana’s. “I offended enough gods when I took my vows. Adding the god of wine to that list would've been unwise.” 

“Gods?” Sana repeated. “There’s a plural?”

Dahyun smiled. “Forsaking marriage didn’t just insult you.”

Sana's eyes hardened then. “Your step-mom didn’t like that?” She frowned. “You’re kidding.”

Was Sana angry for her? That didn’t seem typical. 

The other goddess continued. “I mean you kept your promises better than your father did.” A pause. “Did she do something?” 

Neither of them spoke about this goddess by name. For Dahyun at least, it would be testing fate. 

Maybe there had been a few blessings of beasts now and then, but never anything truly terrible. The hunters had rarely made an affront to the woman. Only women who had had an association to Zeus were punished, as well as blatant insults. Dahyun’s vows had been blatant insults, though Hera usually knew when to be discreet about her disproval. That didn't mean she was any less severe. 

“Nothing really,” Dahyun said.

Sana scoffed. “Yeah right.”

She sipped her drink. “I didn’t know you were on such bad terms with her.” 

“She’s an even bigger hypocrite than I am,” Sana replied. “Seethes whenever he’s disloyal and feels the need to ruin the other woman’s life, ignoring the fact that she either didn’t know it was him, or didn’t want his advance.”

“Your words are blasphemous.” Were they any lesser gods, or, Olympus forbid, humans, they would have been dealt with swiftly.

She rolled her eyes. “If you knew the things she said about me, you’d say I was merciful.” 

Dahyun fought a smile. “That makes two of us.” She could hardly count the amount of times that she’d heard exactly what Hera thought of her, her mother, and her brother. Sometimes through the ties that prayers brought with them, or just brought to her verbally. 

“What're you doing now that you have your masters?” 

It was a surprise that Sana bothered with such a thing. 

“I’m in a program,” Dahyun said. “It’s a lot."

"Too much?" 

Was it? "I haven’t been able to do a lot of hunting recently. I make the time, but I’ve been more distant from it than I ever have.” 

Sana was looking at her. Dahyun couldn’t read that expression, only that it was much too concentrated on her eyes. It was almost searching. 

“Is that a bad thing?” Sana asked. 

Dahyun looked over to her hunters. Half of them were coming to the bar, bright smiles on each of their faces. They ignored every single stare they got and ordered their drinks. 

Kendra caught her eye and waved animatedly. She didn't like killing, but she'd proven to be a wonderful cook. 

Dahyun smiled back. “I don’t think so,” she said. 

Sana still stared at her with an inquisitive sort of gaze. 

“But this is what you want?” 

Dahyun didn’t need to think for her answer. “The more I learn, the more I’m convinced it is.” She looked at her empty glass. “But I still don’t know what comes after that. If that was your next question.” 

Sana chuckled. “It was.” She looked at her. “But that doesn’t bother you? Not knowing what you’ll do after you go to the moon?”

“I know what I’ll do. See what else they’d want of someone in my shoes. Perhaps I’d stay in orbit for some time.” Away from the planet. She wondered what that would be like. Space was a natural thing. She was considered a goddess closely tied with nature in addition to the moon. Could those two realms be linked more closely than she’d thought? “I have no desire to be in some class again.” She thought of Mina, who seemed to always find a new degree she wanted to study. Either that or she snuck into the lecture halls, often passing as the perfect student. "So when I return to Earth, I’ll do what I've always done."

Sana’s brow furrowed. “You don’t want to change that?” 

“Why should I?” Dahyun asked. “I’ve been hunting my entire life. It’s what I’m tied to. Hunters still pray to me, despite the law requiring hunting licenses nowadays.” She’d been curious to try and get one herself, if only to see what you needed to be taught about in order to hunt. 

“But you’re more than that.” 

They were words far too sentimental for Dahyun to believe they were purely directed at her. 

Did Sana have similar doubts as Dahyun did? She found it difficult to imagine, but there was an uncertainty in Sana’s eyes. It was something entirely foreign to Dahyun, but she couldn't deny that it was there. And Sana never pretended to be vulnerable in that sense. Perhaps she pretended she was weak when around others, only so that they would feel the need to care for her, but she never let her confidence be thought to be lesser than it was. Unless this was some other ploy, though Dahyun also found that hard to believe. 

She’d have to confirm her suspicions. She doubted the opportunity would come next time. Or she'd forget. “Are you saying that just to me? Or for yourself too?” 

Sana’s brow rose. “Why would you ask me that?” 

Yet again, Dahyun did not know what to make of her expression. Would she explode? Or remain civil?

Dahyun decided to remain honest. “Recently I accused you, maybe wrongly, of being too closely associated with your realm, specifically the bad things. You said we ought to define ourselves by what we want," she said.

Sana didn't respond. She only frowned at her.

Dahyun continued. "I take that to mean you don’t associate yourself with love as closely as I thought. That you’re trying to find something outside of your realm, which is why you come to me, someone who is very much separate from that realm.” She shook her head when the bartender raised his eyebrow at her empty glass. “Or maybe I’m wrong again.” 

When she looked at the goddess of love this time, she looked more confused than ever before. Had Dahyun really made her question her intentions? Or had she just completely misunderstood the goddess? It wouldn’t have been the first time. 

Sana’s mouth parted in a small ‘o’, as though she were struggling to find the words. Another atypical thing for her. 

“Can we buy you two the next round?” One man was beside Sana, the other beside Dahyun. 

The change in the other goddess was immediate. 

Sana straightened, her lips curving into a smile. “Definitely.” 

“Not for me.” Dahyun stood. She still wanted to know the answer, but perhaps the opportunity for that was lost now. 

She didn’t stop to say a farewell. Instead she went into the crowd of dancing people, tensing each time there was any contact with her. She reached the other girls easily. They each sent her questioning looks. She only shook her head. 

When she looked back, she saw that Sana had fully turned her attention on the two men. She’d turned around to face both of them, a teasing smile on her face. There was the confidence she'd let fall away before. Dahyun had almost missed it.

Sometimes, Dahyun went on longer trips than her hunters had the endurance for. She didn’t fault them for it. Sometimes, she didn’t know what she was hunting. There would be a collection of tracks that she’d follow before she stopped. Then she would turn away and find the next trail. Sometimes she found a monster she could pursue without hesitation. Other times she tracked down a rabbit or a deer, but didn’t let an arrow fly. 

Though it was not how the mortals usually worked, Dahyun had managed to get a fair amount of time away from the program. It wouldn't reflect badly on her and would be a welcome change from being entrenched in the modern world. She'd longed to return to the hunt. When she'd gone to the girls to tell them they were going on a longer trip, they'd all been overjoyed. 

They’d found new places in the Rocky Mountains. Beautiful landscapes awaited beneath their feet and Dahyun found peace both on the ground and in the air. Even so, there was a pit of discomfort whenever she was distracted enough to become aware of it. 

She paused by a stream to drink. While it was not necessary for survival, she enjoyed mountain water more than anything. She could feel the purity of this land. Mountains could be sites of horror, yes, but they cold also be like this: quiet, isolated, peaceful.

The silence provided her room to think. She had to be very careful with her thoughts, lest they bring the focus of a certain goddess to her. That would certainly break the wonderful silence around her. 

But what could bring this goddess to doubt herself to the degree that she’d seek Dahyun out? Did she know more about the thoughts circulating in Dahyun’s head than she let on? There were always highly pointed questions directed at the now and what would come of it later. There was rarely any focus on the past. 

Even so, the prospect of this goddess doubting herself was unfathomable to Dahyun. What if the doubt that she’d seen was just another way to get more information? She didn’t know what purpose that served. Perhaps it was a way to cope with the boredom that tended to come from immortality. That was it. This goddess was bored. 

Dahyun sighed. If that was the case, then she didn't have to think about this any longer. 

She’d reached a rocky ledge. The moon hung in the sky. Another reminder of what questions still remained. 

She'd come to doubt what role her chariot actually played. The moon orbited around the Earth, moving with the planet as it proceeded on its own orbit around the sun. Where did Dahyun come into that picture now? She could leave riding the chariot out completely. Her chariot had no influence on how gravity worked. She had no influence on how it worked. She did not determine if the moon was in the sky or not, nor what phase it was in.

All that she had learned left her with more doubt than closure, more questions than answers. She'd learned that there was wonder to be found in her own realm of power, one where science and magic seemed to be at odds. She had also learned that her role in the grander scheme of the universe was next to insignificant. It was as fascinating as it was disappointing.

And yet, if someone prayed to the moon, she would still hear it. How was she still linked to something in space? Why were those ties there?

She wondered if she’d be closer to finding it when she stepped foot on the moon. Or would even more questions come into the picture?

Sometimes she wished she could pray as the mortals did for them, if only to look for guidance to answer those questions. She had nothing to look up to except for the sky, the moon, and the sun. Two of which were the domains of herself and her brother, while the latter was her dead great-grandfather (who had eaten his own children) and she was loathed to ever turn to her father.

She wondered how the other gods saw their place in the world. She wondered if they even considered it. There was one goddess who either knew her role, or did not bother to find it out. 

Sana had an unparalleled reverence for her domain of love and yet she played in it as though it were a game. That dichotomy was perplexing. It was the reason why Dahyun couldn't believe that the goddess doubted her place in the world. All was certain for Sana. She knew what good her realm brought to others, and had also begun to accept the darker parts of it. The response wasn’t to doubt her place in the world, but it was to look forward in time. 

At least it seemed to be as such to Dahyun. 

She shook her head then. If the goddess was truly bored and that was the only reason for placing such questions in Dahyun's mind, then she didn't have to think any further on the topic. She had her realm of power, however mysterious that realm often was. It was enough to know what role she was to keep playing.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a rush of warm wind. It cut through an otherwise cold night.

Dahyun stood, raising and drawing her bow in the same motion. As she did so, she realised who it was. She didn't stop her actions. 

The goddess of love herself stood with her arms crossed. She wore actual trousers and a shirt. It might have been her attempt of mountain gear. “Thinking of me as well?”

That had been Dahyun's mistake. She hadn't been as careful with her thoughts as she'd wanted to. 

“Only in passing.” She lowered her bow, setting her arrow back in its quiver. “Why come?” How long had it been since the summer solstice? If she hadn't been lost in time, the winter solstice would be coming very soon. So several months had passed. Only once had she seen her in that time.

“If the goddess of the hunt thinks my name, I’ll come.” Sana’s smile was broad in a near mocking manner. “Who knows what trouble you could've gotten yourself into.” The tone of voice was very familiar. It strengthened Dahyun’s belief that Sana did not doubt herself.

“No trouble,” Dahyun sat down, “yet.” She put her bow down between them. “You're not dressed properly for the mountains, nor a night like this.” While she couldn't freeze to death, Dahyun wore trousers, hiking boots, and a thin, yet warm, coat. 

“You should talk.” Sana joined her on the floor. “You’re not wearing gloves.” The flimsy shoes she wore were replaced with fur boots. Her shirt was covered with a thick down jacket. 

“I hate gloves,” she replied. 

“Really?” She held out gloved hands in front of Dahyun’s face. “So I can ward you off like this?”

Dahyun laughed. “I've never drawn a bow-string with a gloved hand. I never want to either.” She looked down at her fingers. “Did you know they use a leather patch for protection? The thumb ring had already been an interesting addition, but a full on glove has also been used.” She sighed. To make matters worse, upon Mina's insistence, she'd had to accomodate for some of her huntresses, allowing them to use the fully modern bows to see how they compared. They preferred the newer ones, something Dahyun found mildly insulting, but she'd accepted it. 

“Most archers aren’t like you,” Sana said. “They didn’t have thousands of years to draw however many arrows.” 

“I suppose so.” 

A more comfortable silence settled then. Dahyun took the time to look at the sky. The stars spread out above her. She’d once thought that since she was immortal, she could count every single one in her line of sight. She’d gotten bored after counting fifty. 

And now she knew that they were each at hugely varying distances to her. She knew that some might not even exist anymore. She knew that she was looking back in time each time she took in a star. There were pinpricks of light as old—or even older than her. 

“So what were the thoughts that led you to me?” Sana asked quietly.

Dahyun looked away from the stars. Sana's eyes were also on the sky, searching it. 

There was something about the phrasing. She couldn’t place her finger on why it caught her attention. 

Dahyun stopped herself from wondering why. “If you must know, I was considering the realms of power and where faith should be placed.”

“Simple.” A pause. “It applies to almost everyone.” Her smile widened to a brightness akin to the sun. “Myself.”

Dahyun fought the urge to roll her eyes. “I meant a god’s own faith.” 

Sana’s smile disappeared. “Why would we need to put our faith in something other than ourselves?” 

She’d been right. Sana’s confidence remained in that sphere. Still, Dahyun wanted to make sure she hadn’t jumped to too esoteric conclusions. Sana had proven her wrong before. 

“Have you never had feelings of inadequacy?” When Sana did not respond, Dahyun continued, “When you lose a follower, several followers, due to your own actions or your failure to act, does that never place a seed of doubt in you?” She remembered what she'd told Kendra. There were many names belonging to the list of people Dahyun had failed to protect, even ones who had died due to Dahyun's own actions, primarily if she'd abandoned them for breaking their vows. 

“You can't blame yourself for every mistake,” Sana said. “Or each death. They’re mortal and inexperienced. You’re not.” 

“That’s not how it should be seen,” Dahyun hissed. “If they turn to me, they become my responsibility.” Perhaps even if they turned away from her. 

There was a gentle scraping sound as her bow was moved aside.

“Dahyun,” she moved to sit directly beside her, “we live lives where we have to trust in ourselves. You don’t do that, how will you live for eternity?” 

“By devoting my time to other things,” Dahyun replied. And to go on hunting trips such as this. 

“Spending a few years on becoming an astronaut?” Sana asked. “That may be a long-term goal for mortals, but it isn't even a short-term one for us.” She gave her a look. “And then once you’re done with that, you’ll find another thing that only lasts a few years.”

Dahyun traced a constellation with her eyes. Orion’s Belt, as they called it. Yet those stars had been there way before Orion had ever lived. “The mortals knew it before we admitted it to ourselves. We're not infallible. There're questions we can't answer, ones that have to be answered for us, while others fall somewhere in between.” She let the words travel through the air. The wind was the response. “And I want mine answered."

“And then?” 

“Why do you insist on looking so far forward?” Dahyun turned to her. 

“It isn't far forward. A hundred years isn’t long, ten years is short, and a year’s worth even less," Sana said. “We're immortal. Has that sunk in for you? That’s not a thousand years, not even a hundred thousand, it’s forever.” 

“And look at what's happened in those thousand years,” Dahyun shot back. “Think of all the lives that were lived in that time. There were those who lived happily, others who didn't, while the rest fell between that. Several of those lives were dedicated to something greater than just worshipping the moon or an individual.” She looked at her hands again. “And they didn’t live forever.” 

“So what do we do? Make like Mina and study something new every ten years? Spend every moment hunting?” Sana’s voice had grown in volume. The silence had truly been broken. Another sensitive topic?

“Or find someone new over and over again?” Dahyun finished. It might have been an insult, but she wasn't blind to how Sana's attentions could stray. The same applied to her brother, who had yet to really find someone where he was satisfied. 

Silence was Sana's response.

“And this is the moment where one of us disappears, isn’t it?” Dahyun fought a smile. “I’d say it’s your turn. I’m not needed anywhere tonight.” 

“What if I don’t want to go?” 

Dahyun met Sana’s gaze. Yet again, there seemed to be an expression of doubt. Was it because ‘forever’ was daunting for her? Or was this just another way to goad her? Dahyun didn’t know. 

“Then one of us might say something hurtful," Dahyun replied. "We’d definitely mean it. And then ignore it when next we meet. Or forget about it.” Even if Sana’s words had so often stuck in Dahyun’s memory. 

“And if we didn’t talk?”

Dahyun didn’t respond. She just remained where she was. The sound of wind flowing through the trees came to the forefront. The distant sound of water lay behind it. In between it all was the beautiful emptiness of silence. If that was filled with footsteps or voices, all other sounds tended to disappear. 

The two of them sat there, side by side, in silence. It was such a strange occurrence, one that Dahyun knew had never happened. Others had joined her on nights like these, but never Sana. Dahyun would've never wanted her there before, but she was here now. No words came from either of them. 

For a moment, Dahyun thought Sana had indeed gone. She’d never expected the other goddess to have the ability to remain silent.

But when she looked over, she saw that Sana had stayed. She was staring up at the night sky, her features peaceful. She’d leant back on her elbows. The lower part of her hair was in the dirt, though she didn’t seem to mind. Sana's eyes were wide as they took in the stars, as though she were trying to take in the sky’s entirety at once. There was no unusual lighting around her to make her features more pronounced. There was only the light of the moon. It softened each of Sana's features. 

A few moments passed until Dahyun realised she was staring. She looked away, expecting the silence to be broken by a remark, one that commented on how long she’d been looking. There wasn’t one.

_____

Author's Note

I hadn't expected to only write from Dahyun's perspective here, but here's a full Dahyun chapter. You might have noticed that the focus is not on Dahyun becoming an astronaut. Although it is important for her, my focus is much more on how these two goddesses are coping with the modern world and their immortality. I already have a story in space, so a lot of my space-related story energy goes there, while what physics knowledge I do have features now and then in this story (if it's really out of whack, let me know). 

Regardless, I would love to know your thoughts. Thank you for all the support you've been giving this story!

I'll see you in the next chapter!