HIS FORGOTTEN GODDESS

The Night the Moon Bowed

Nineteen years later.

The moon was bleeding.

Seraphina noticed it while standing on the balcony of an abandoned tower, watching crimson light spill across the distant mountains.

At first, she thought it was a trick of the clouds.

The moon had always fascinated her. There was something strangely familiar about its silver glow, something that stirred an inexplicable ache deep within her chest whenever she looked at it for too long.

But tonight, the moon was different.

Its surface had turned the color of fresh blood, and dark veins stretched across its enormous face like cracks in a shattered mirror.

Seraphina narrowed her eyes.

"Well, that's new."

A cold wind swept through her hair, carrying the scent of rain and something unfamiliar—something metallic, almost like iron.

She glanced toward the forest below.

The trees stood motionless.

Not a single leaf stirred.

The birds had disappeared, and the usual chorus of insects had fallen silent. Even the river that wound through the valley seemed unnaturally quiet.

Seraphina rested her elbows on the stone railing.

She had lived in Eldoria for nineteen years, long enough to understand that strange things happened in the kingdom.

A river that flowed backward for three days?

Unusual, but manageable.

A forest that whispered the names of the dead?

Disturbing, but the villagers had learned to avoid it.

A shepherd who claimed his reflection had smiled at him while he was crying?

Seraphina had advised him to stop drinking whatever he found in the mountains.

But a bleeding moon?

That was new territory.

"Perhaps the heavens are finally developing a sense of drama."

"You know, most people would be inside praying."

Seraphina didn't turn around.

"Most people have terrible survival instincts."

A sigh came from behind her.

"One day, your mouth will get you killed."

"And on that day, I hope you deliver a magnificent eulogy."

"I'll make sure to mention that you were insufferable."

"How touching."

Mira appeared in the doorway, carrying a small lantern.

Her dark curls were tied into a messy knot, and her expression suggested that she had spent the last several minutes searching every room in the abandoned tower.

Which, in fact, she had.

Seraphina smiled.

"Looking for me?"

"No. I simply enjoy wandering through ancient ruins at midnight, searching for a girl with absolutely no sense of self-preservation."

"Then you should consider finding a more productive hobby."

Mira placed the lantern on a nearby table.

"Come inside."

"In a moment."

"Seraphina."

"Mira."

They stared at each other.

Finally, Mira pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Do you ever listen to anyone?"

"Occasionally."

"When?"

"When they're saying something interesting."

Mira muttered something beneath her breath.

Seraphina grinned.

For a moment, everything felt normal.

Familiar.

Safe.

Then the moon moved.

Seraphina's smile faded.

The enormous crimson orb descended toward the horizon, not slowly, as celestial bodies should, but with a sudden, unnatural movement.

It looked as though an invisible hand had seized it and begun dragging it from the heavens.

Mira stopped breathing.

Seraphina straightened.

"What in the world—"

A thunderous sound rolled across the mountains.

The tower shook violently, sending dust raining from the ceiling. The lantern toppled from the table, its flame extinguishing before it struck the floor.

Then a bell rang.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

The sound came from somewhere deep beneath the earth.

Seraphina felt it in her bones.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Mira stumbled backward.

Seven.

The sound reverberated through the tower, growing louder until Seraphina had to cover her ears.

Then came the eighth bell.

And the world went dark.

Not the darkness of night.

Something deeper.

Something that swallowed even the light of the stars.

Seraphina reached instinctively for Mira, but the air between them seemed to stretch into an impossible distance.

"Mira?"

No answer.

A strange warmth spread through Seraphina's chest.

She pressed a hand against her sternum.

"What is happening?"

Silver light seeped between her fingers.

She stared at her hand.

The light curled around her wrist, forming delicate symbols that shimmered beneath her skin.

One symbol.

Then another.

Then hundreds.

They spread across her arms like constellations awakening in the night.

Seraphina tried to pull away, but the light followed her movements.

It was beautiful.

And terrifying.

"Mira!"

Her voice echoed through the darkness.

Something stirred inside her.

An enormous presence, ancient and immeasurable, opened its eyes.

Then a voice spoke inside her mind.

At last.

Seraphina froze.

The voice was neither male nor female. It carried the weight of countless years and a loneliness so profound that she felt it in her own heart.

My little star has awakened.

"Who are you?"

The darkness trembled.

You have slept for so long.

"Answer me!"

They took everything from you. Your name. Your throne. Your memories.

Seraphina's heartbeat quickened.

"What are you talking about?"

A flash of silver illuminated the darkness.

For an instant, she saw a woman standing before a magnificent throne.

The woman had silver hair, luminous eyes, and a crown of shattered gemstones.

She was crying.

And she was looking directly at Seraphina.

Then the vision disappeared.

Seraphina staggered.

"No..."

Another voice whispered through the darkness.

Find the king who remembers your death.

The words sent a chill down her spine.

"What king?"

The presence withdrew.

Find him before he finds you.

The silver symbols flared.

Seraphina screamed.

The tower windows shattered.

A wave of invisible force swept through the room, tearing ancient curtains from their rods and sending broken furniture crashing against the walls.

Then, as suddenly as it had begun, everything stopped.

The darkness vanished.

The tower returned.

The moon remained crimson.

And Seraphina collapsed onto the cold stone floor.

For several seconds, she could do nothing but breathe.

Her hands were trembling.

The strange symbols had disappeared from her skin, leaving behind nothing but the familiar crescent-shaped birthmark above her heart.

She had possessed it for as long as she could remember.

Mira had always told her it was an ordinary birthmark.

Yet tonight, it burned as though a tiny star had been buried beneath her skin.

"Seraphina!"

Mira dropped to her knees beside her.

"Look at me. Can you hear me?"

Seraphina blinked.

"What... was that?"

Mira stared at her.

"That is precisely what I was about to ask you."

"You saw it?"

"Saw what?"

"The light. The symbols. The—"

Seraphina stopped.

Mira's expression had changed.

The concern in her eyes remained, but beneath it lay something else.

Fear.

Not the ordinary fear of someone who had witnessed an unexplained event.

This was different.

This was the fear of someone who had been waiting for something terrible to happen.

Seraphina slowly sat up.

"Mira."

Her friend looked away.

"Tell me what you know."

"I don't know anything."

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not."

"Then why are you looking at me like that?"

Mira opened her mouth.

Before she could answer, the tower door creaked.

Both girls turned.

A man stood at the entrance.

He wore black robes embroidered with silver threads, and his long hair fell over his shoulders like liquid darkness.

His features were so unnaturally perfect that, for one absurd moment, Seraphina wondered whether she was still dreaming.

Then she met his eyes.

Gold.

Not golden-brown.

Not amber.

Pure, luminous gold.

His gaze moved from Mira to Seraphina.

And stopped.

The man's expression changed.

Only slightly.

A tightening around his eyes.

A sudden stillness.

But Seraphina noticed.

She had spent her entire life observing people, studying their expressions, and learning to recognize the lies they tried to hide.

Whatever this stranger had expected to find in the tower, it had not been her.

For the first time in thousands of years, Asterion, Sovereign of the Celestial Realm, forgot how to breathe.

Impossible.

The face was different.

The soul was not.

He knew that soul.

He had searched for it across lifetimes, through shattered dimensions and the ruins of civilizations that no longer existed.

He had believed it destroyed.

He had mourned it.

And now—

It stood before him.

Alive.

Unaware.

And wearing the face of the one person he had never managed to forget.

Asterion's gaze drifted toward the crescent-shaped mark above her heart.

His fingers curled slowly at his sides.

The ancient seal had broken.

The eighth power had awakened.

And the woman he had spent a thousand years searching for had returned to a world that had no memory of her existence.

Including her own.

Seraphina rose unsteadily to her feet.

"Who are you, and how did you get in here?"

Asterion didn't answer.

He was looking at her as though she had returned from the dead.

She frowned.

"Are you deaf?"

Something flickered in his expression.

It vanished so quickly that she might have imagined it.

Then he stepped into the tower.

Every shadow bent toward him.

Mira immediately dropped to her knees.

Seraphina stared at her in disbelief.

"Mira?"

"Get down," Mira whispered.

"Excuse me?"

"Seraphina, please. Get down."

The stranger's gaze sharpened.

"Leave us."

Mira bowed her head.

"Your Majesty."

Seraphina's eyes widened.

She looked at Mira.

Then at the stranger.

Then back at Mira.

"Oh, absolutely not."

Asterion raised an eyebrow.

For the first time that night, something resembling genuine surprise crossed his face.

Seraphina folded her arms.

"I don't know who you are, why my friend is kneeling, or why everyone is behaving as though the world is ending. But if you've come to threaten me, I suggest you get in line."

Silence.

Then Asterion laughed.

It was quiet.

Brief.

Almost disbelieving.

Somewhere in the heavens, an ancient star went dark.

Because the last time Asterion had laughed like that, the first world still existed.

He stepped closer.

Seraphina refused to move.

He stopped directly in front of her.

"Tell me your name."

She tilted her chin.

"Tell me yours first."

His eyes narrowed.

"You dare question me?"

"You entered my tower uninvited. I believe that makes us even."

Asterion studied her.

There it was again.

That defiance.

That impossible familiarity.

He had known queens who begged for mercy at his feet. Kings who surrendered entire kingdoms at the sound of his name. Gods who trembled when he entered their temples.

And yet this girl looked at him as though he were an inconvenience.

"What is your name?" he repeated.

Seraphina smiled without warmth.

"Seraphina."

The name struck him like a blade.

For a heartbeat, the tower disappeared from his awareness.

He saw another world.

A palace burning beneath a violet sky.

A woman with silver hair reaching for him through the flames.

A little girl standing beside a shattered throne.

And a voice whispering through the chaos.

Promise me you'll find her.

Asterion's hands curled into fists.

No.

This was impossible.

He had watched that bloodline perish.

He had felt the final heartbeat fade.

He had—

"You're staring," Seraphina observed.

He returned to the present.

"Do you know who you are?"

"Seraphina."

"That is your name. I asked if you know who you are."

She studied him carefully.

"Someone who is beginning to regret this conversation."

His expression hardened.

"You are coming with me."

Seraphina blinked.

Then she laughed.

Actually laughed.

"No."

Asterion stared at her.

"No?" he repeated.

"Did I stutter?"

The temperature in the tower plummeted.

Mira made a small, frightened sound.

Asterion's eyes began to glow.

"I am Asterion, Sovereign of the Celestial Realm, Lord of the Seven Heavens, and Keeper of the Eternal Throne."

Seraphina considered this.

Then she nodded solemnly.

"That sounds exhausting."

Mira covered her mouth.

Asterion looked as though no one had ever spoken to him in such a manner.

Perhaps no one had.

He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.

"You have no understanding of what you are."

"Then explain it."

"I cannot."

"Won't?"

"Cannot."

For the first time, Seraphina saw something beneath his cold expression.

Fear.

Not fear of her.

Fear for her.

And somehow, that frightened her more than his power.

Before she could question him, the crimson moon shuddered.

A crack appeared across its surface.

Then another.

Asterion turned sharply toward the window.

His face transformed.

The ancient indifference vanished, replaced by an expression so cold that Mira began trembling.

"No," he whispered.

The moon split open.

Something moved behind it.

Something vast enough to blot out the stars.

And from beyond the heavens came a voice that shook the foundations of existence.

THE HEIR HAS RETURNED.

Asterion seized Seraphina's wrist.

For the first time, his voice carried unmistakable urgency.

"Whatever happens, do not let it speak your true name."

Seraphina stared at him.

"Why?"

His golden eyes met hers.

"Because the moment it does, every living thing in existence will know where you are."

The sky shattered.

And somewhere beyond the broken moon, something began to laugh.

END OF CHAPTER ONE