It wasn’t uncommon for Viluna to lose her children. They often scurried away like mice, taking their mortal forms and hiding in the bustling streets of Noctivale. The Goddess of Night and Death had long gotten used to them disappearing since they always came back eventually, but tonight something seemed off, she could feel it in her gut. Worried, she called out to her children, hoping that one would respond and alleviate her stress but of course, it couldn’t be that simple.
Viluna sighed, trying to use her abilities to sense her children’s presence on the mortal plane beneath their home but it was faint, so she decided instead to take a page from her children’s books. She strode through the grand hallway of her temple, columns and statues of the family who resided there lining every wall and trailing down to the main entrance. With every step she took, her godly form slowly began to fade away: her celestial glow dimmed, her flowing ice blue hair tied itself into a bun, and her beautiful long robe twisted into a simple sage dress along with a cloak that she tucked over her head, hiding her face and with it, her true celestial nature. With a snap of her fingers, the world around Viluna faded in and out of sight until she found herself standing in the middle of one of Noctivale’s markets during lunch hour. People were scattered along the streets, either buying or hoping to sell a great assortment of material objects that always left Viluna baffled regarding why mortals had such a need or desire for them. Sounds of laughter and bartering filled the air as she pushed past the thick crowd of shoppers, squinting her eyes for a familiar face. Lights hung overhead, connected from one shop to another in a zig-zag pattern and emitting an alluring orange glow that reminded Viluna of the sunrise as viewed from her temple, the Anurixonus, in the clouds above Noctivale. She tugged her hood over her head once more, trying to conceal her true nature from the unknowing citizens as she headed through the busy market.
After pushing past a few unwilling pedestrians, she had managed to find a quiet bench near the ocean to collect her thoughts. As the sea breeze surrounded Viluna in what felt like a calming embrace and the salty scent flooded her senses, she focused her abilities on finding her children’s whereabouts. Two images flashed through her mind, one of a boy sitting in a bar, chatting with a demon that seemed all too interested in feeling a mortal form, and another of a girl who was pickpocketing every oblivious passerby that she came across. Viluna tried to force her abilities to reveal a third image but they refused, draining her in response as if to send a warning to her to stop, and she listened. Her eyes shot open and in seconds she was on her feet, heading towards the nearby bar to confront the men she had seen. As she neared the entrance of La Coquille Rouge, she slid her hood off, altering her appearance to seem celestial only to those of celestial blood. The bar was vibrant, men and women of all species mingling and drinking to their hearts desire, but Viluna’s eyes narrowed in on a certain pair near the bar.
A man and a demon sat together, drinking beer and laughing heartily.
“So, handsome, are you staying in Noctivale for a while?” The demon smirked, tracing his finger down the man’s chest. “I’ve never seen you around here before and I’ve seen everyone.” He purred, inching closer.
The man grinned and took a sip of his beer. “Yeah, I’m new to the city,” He shrugged. “And I wasn’t planning on staying but maybe…you could convince me to stay here with you tonight?”
The demon grinned and started to lean in closer, his spiked tail swishing behind him. The pair grew closer until– “NYXOS!”
The man shot away from the demon as if his touch burned him, causing him to stumble forward and fall off the bar stool, his horns scraping against it. “Mom!” The man chuckled nervously, averting his gaze. “Er…what are you doing here?”
Viluna’s eyes darkened. “What am I doing here? What are YOU doing here!? You’re supposed to be back in the temple by now, I called for you!” She snapped, storming over to him and using her abilities to send the demon flying out the door.
“What? But mom, you–” Nyxos stammered but was interrupted when the almighty Goddess of Night and Death grabbed him by his currently mortal ear and dragged him out the door.
“Now,” Viluna said, only releasing her son once they were out the door. “Tell me where your sister is.”
“Lyra? I have no idea where she is, we split up the moment we got down here,” Nyxos mumbled, rubbing his ear. “But knowing her, she’s probably off messing with the mortals.”
“Alright,” Viluna sighed, “And your brother?”
He shook his head in response, only adding onto the stress that Viluna already felt.
“Okay, let’s go find your sister then. Your brother is the most responsible out of the three of you so I trust that he’ll be home soon if he’s not already.” She turned and started making her way towards Noctivale’s center. If what she said were true, then why couldn’t she feel him?
Viluna pushed away those thoughts and focused instead on finding her daughter. As she and Nyxos strode through the busy streets, they heard shouting ahead.
“Is that Lyra?” Nyxos asked, looking down at his mother.
“It is.” Viluna nodded, moving forward without hesitation.
The crowd parted as she pushed forward, Nyxos followed close behind, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade as they broke into the circle caused by curious passerbys. At the center of it stood Lyra in her mortal form. Blood streaked down her lip, one eye already swelling shut, but she maintained her fighting stance as she swung at the older man in front of her. Her fist connected with his jaw, snapping his head to the side, but he barely faltered before backhanding her hard enough to send her stumbling, earning a gasp from the surrounding crowd.
“Stupid girl,” The man snarled, grabbing Lyra by the front of her shirt and dragging her back upright. “Did you really think you could try to steal from me and walk away?”
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Lyra spat blood at his feet and laughed breathlessly. “I think you talk too much.” She drove her knee up and into the man’s stomach. The man grunted, tightening his grip around the fabric of her shirt and raising a fist that never fell.
Viluna’s hand closed around his wrist, her grip ironclad.
“That is quite enough.” She said quietly. The man opened his mouth to protest but decided against it as he looked into Viluna’s eyes. The color drained from his face as her eyes glowed, deep and endless like a starless night, revealing her true nature. Nyxos moved quickly, stepping in between Lyra and the man and shoving her behind his back with one arm as he landed a blow to the man’s face with the other. The blow landed in the middle of the man’s chest, sending him crashing to the cobblestones in a wheezing heap.
“Touch her again,” Nyxos growled, towering over the man, “and I’ll make sure you never walk again.”
Viluna released the man who fell on his hands and knees, fear overtaking any lingering pride he might have had. “Go.” Viluna commanded. The man did not need to be told twice. As the man scurried away, Viluna turned to her daughter. “Lyra, are you alright?” She asked, rubbing her thumb against Lyra’s bloodied lip. “I’m fine, mom,” Lyra swatted her hand away, “And I could’ve taken the guy on my own.”
Nyxos scoffed. “Sure you could.” Viluna shot him a look, warning him to be quiet. “Have you seen your brother, my butterfly? She asked calmly, but in reality she was nothing but filled with stress. Nobody had heard of her son in hours and it was unlike him to disappear or defy her and she couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that something had happened to him.
When Viluna and her children had returned to the Anurixonus above Noctivale, they all shed their mortal forms and returned to their natural selves: Nyxos regained his half-smiling mask and pointy ears, Lyra regained her second pair of arms and her half-sobbing mask, and Viluna regained her flowing sky blue hair and her glowing moonstone chains. As Nyxos and Lyra walked away to their respective rooms, Nyxos to tend to his pet snake, Ophion, and Lyra to relax on her bed and think of new tricks to play on the mortals during her next visit to Noctivale, Viluna strode out to the edge of the Anurixonus, looking down on the busy streets of Noctivale as mortals went about their days without a care in the world. Mortals had no real responsibilities, they had no situations that could potentially impact all of humanity, and Viluna envied them for that. She dreamed of being as free as a mortal, but alas, she was a goddess, and the universe was not as kind.
As she gazed out upon the world, she decided to try and sense her son again. The sun was setting but her stress was rising, he still hadn’t returned yet. Viluna placed her hand on her chest and closed her eyes, channeling all her abilities into locating her son. She listened in, trying to hear the faint hum of his power or the rhythm of his heart beat but there was only silence. Her fingers curled into fists as she pushed herself past her limit, desperately trying to hear or see anything that could bring her close to her son.
Nothing.
“No,” she whispered. The shadows around her seemed to echo her whisper, adding to the intensity of the situation. The stars around Noctivale seemed to dim and a cold wind breezed through the city, snuffing out the lanterns and drawing fearful murmurs from mortals who suddenly felt watched. She took a step back from the edge, eyes going wide as realization settled in.
Her son hadn’t left her. He had not hidden nor defied her. Azrael had been permanently erased.
His rhythm had gone quiet yet the hum of his power still rang throughout the universe.
Viluna trembled, falling to her knees as she pressed her hands together against her chest, letting out a cry of pure anguish that echoed throughout both the Anurixonus and Noctivale.
Overhead, a crow flew by as a golden thread snapped in the distance.
Eos screamed. The sound tore through the Library of Destiny, causing books to fly off the shelves and golden threads to whip wildly in the air, tangling and unraveling faster than she could follow. Lysander was at her side in an instant, grabbing onto her shoulders to ground her.
“Eos, what happened!?” He exclaimed as Astrea ran into the office behind him.
Eos did not respond, her gaze focused past the two of them and onto a thread that was withering away, fading until its golden glow dimmed to a grey. “He’s gone.” She mumbled, gaze locked on the withering thread.
“Gone? Who’s gone!?” Astrea asked, growing more worried at the way that Eos was acting.
“Azrael. The God of the Dead has been slain.” Eos whispered.
Lysander turned to look at the withering thread and let go of Eos, eyes widening. “That’s not possible,” He stepped back, panic settling into his features even though he had tried his best to mask it with indifference. “Gods can’t be killed.”
“And yet,” Eos replied, her voice breaking. “He is no longer written.”
Astrea’s stomach twisted. She could feel it now, the wrongness she’d felt for weeks, the pressure behind her eyes when she tried to look ahead and saw nothing but static. “A man,” she said slowly. “A mortal man did this. I can see him.” Eos turned to look at her, her eyes filled with guilt. “Yes, the name of this mortal is Rowan.” She closed her eyes. “He walks without fate, and now he holds the power of controlling the dead.”
Lysander tensed. “What?”
“He has Azrael’s pendant.” Eos explained. Lysander drew his dagger. “Then tell me where he is,” he said, his voice filled with determination. “ I’ll end this before he kills another.” Eos shook her head. “You can’t,” she said softly. “Not alone.”
Astrea stepped forward, grabbing her own dagger from her side. “Then you’re not going alone.”
Lysander turned sharply, looking down at his student. “Absolutely not.”
“She can sense his power,” Eos sighed, knowing Lysander wouldn’t like what he had to do. “She can see where threads refuse to go. Astrea is the only one who can properly track him down.”
Astrea’s heartbeat thundered in her ears, fear and excitement combining as she tightened her grip around her dagger. Lysander glared down at her, hesitant on agreeing to something that could risk his student’s life, but he sighed, reluctantly agreeing. “Fine, but you always stay behind me and you listen to me. No more fooling around.” He leaned down in front of her.
“So,” She forced a grin that didn’t quite match the tremor in her voice. “Guess we’re hunting a godkiller.”
Eos met her gaze, all three eyes solemn.
“No,” she corrected. “You’re hunting the end of fate itself.”
