Chapter Five.

Chantara did not get some good ale. In fact, she got no ale at all. 'Only some stupid human food', she had complained to Lucius.

"Well, that's because you have no money!"

It was true. As powerful as Chantara might had been on the High Realm, on earth, she was just as useless as many of the humans. Without power and wealth, you were nothing. Only the nobles were living. The rest of them were barely just surviving.

She needed to clear her head. What was her true purpose on Mundus?

Lucius had shared with her some dried meat he packed with him, and she'd sworn it that eating bare sand would had tasted greatly better.

"You can't just keep walking around drawing unnecessary attention to yourself." Said Lucius who was beginning to wonder what plan Chantara had in mind. They hadn't walked for long though, but Lucius was sure they would only wander aimlessly until one of Shadrack's men caught them and slaughter them. "We've been to this route before!"

"If you had just been on your own, you wouldn't be going through so much trouble now." Replied Chantara with a slightly furrowed brow.

"I'm definitely not with you right now because I want any trouble. I am absolutely sure I have enough of it already. All I'm saying is, what is your plan, if I may ask?"

Her plan? Restore the hearth to the High Realm and save humanity. How? She had not the slightest idea.

"Oh great and highly intellectual Lucius, tell us what to do now."

"Are you joking? What to do? What to-" he paused, tightening his lips in frustration. "We need a room for the night." He finally spoke.

"A room for the night." Recited Chantara.

"Also, a long conversation. Very long one."

"I've told you all you need to know already." She continued walking again, leaving aggravated Lucius behind.

"That your name is Moon, and you're not from around here." He advanced with a fast pace to catch up with her.

"So what else do you want to know?" Asked Chantara.

"Why you've been wandering the lands? What your true mission is? Is it revenge? And also what your true name is. And..." He continued bombarding her with questions upon questions. As soon as he was done, she made no effort to pay any reply to neither of his questions. Instead she asked him again how she would get a room to stay.

"You will find your own way, and I, mine. Cleared?"

Lucius stared with a blank expression on his face, getting tired of her dramas already. Yet, he was not leaving. At least, his mission forbade him not to. "There's something I must tell you first, then if you still decide to push me away, so be it." He began mentioning he was the son of a powerful Lord at some far South village, but after what had happened to his people, he had no choice than to flee far away. Then one night he had a vision and claimed it to be from the gods themselves. In restoring balance, there were a dozen of things that must be done. And he had a feeling he too had a part to play. One day, he picked it up as a mission to start preaching the gospel of the gods to human. Traveling from village to village, and Chantara seemed like the right partner for him. So he would use his traveling with her as an opportunity to spread the gods gospel more.

The only problem was that, Chantara did not like the people of earth. Their foolishness and greediness had caused all of their atrocities in the first place. Journeying with Lucius might come along with some difficulties.

"So if I'm correct," she began to say, then a loud noise as deafening as an abrupt barbarous thunder, knocked her off balance. The loud noise did as though a weapon, sending Chantara down to the ground at once. She yelped in pain, as she slowly went down. Her eyes glowed brighter than green, and her blonde hair lustered blazingly as soon as her hood fell off. Lucius did not seem to understand what'd just happened but terror had already overthrown him. He reached for her, both knees on the ground, then immediately raising her head off the floor with his hands swung around her neck.

"Moon? Moon?" He called her several times getting more disturbed at her sudden behavior. The noise apparently, seemed to had bothered just her alone. Chantara found herself numbed as a stone. Her vision blurred with the disoriented face of Lucius being the last thing she saw, before her eyes finally shut.

****

Theon Bard wasn't dead. At least he hoped he wasn't. He was barely twenty one, so he still had quite a lot of dreams left to achieve. Death was the last thing on his mind, yet it seemed to him that he wouldn't be too far from his grave. He resided alone in his tiny abode, with flies and mosquitoes for his company. A tiny bed rested next to a small table that held Theon's other items like some scattered books, an ink, some left over food items, an empty cup and his late mother's necklace. Theon rarely left the bed unless very important matters arose like a stranger knocking on his door, or whenever he was in need of food. Barely anyone knew him in the village he'd landed just a few moons ago, and he was contented like that.

"So you've got no maiden in mind?" Asked a woman in a low voice that almost sounded like a whisper. Theon could not see her at first, but he knew exactly who she was. Just later did her essence began to silhouette into a woman's.

"No. Now, let me be, will you?" Theon complained, still crouching on his bed. Theon had similar features as this woman; short black hair, brown eyes, and attitude daring and intimidating as a wild cat. At least, the latter feature was still only a dream Theon had always wished to accomplish before he died. He wanted to have his mother's adventurous and audacious spirit. He cursed himself for his pessimistic and downhearted character and prayed to someday become as half competent as his mother was. He lost her to a war that wiped out more than half the people of his village, before he fled off, running for his dear life.

"No one at all?" Asked the voice who's image had formed fully to a middle aged woman now. Her short black hair was elegantly dazzling, just as her smile soon became, the moment she caught the flushing rosiness on his cheeks. "Except for her, right?"

"Mother, you should really set me free already. There's not a chance between her and I, or any maiden at all, and you know that." He protested. His brows arched low in shame and rejection. He closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh. "No one wants a mad man for a lover."

"Oh, my Theon, I-" not knowing the right words to put into place, the ghost woman, Sildergarde, watched her son as he embraced his stigma, hugging his knees tight while his head lowered in a bow on the top of his knees. "You're not a mad man, you're-"

"A cursed man, who will forever remain alone with the spirits of the dead haunting him to his grave." He replied, his words cold and harsh like the bitterness that he'd carried all along. He wished he picked his choice of words more nicely, but even if he'd done so, he would only be deceiving himself. He never asked for any of his misfortune. Who would possibly believe him when he says he could still see the spirit of his late mother, along with other dead souls — some he knew, others he was unfamiliar with — and not tag him a lunatic? He detested his new lifestyle. He would forever cast slanders at himself for not had dying along with the lost lives in his village.

Death was more accepted than his life of dreary delirium.

He brought his gaze back up, only for him to be brought back to his usual state of soundless isolation. His mother's presence had left him yet again, along with the souls of every other guests of the dead that had ventured to his dominion. He was yet again, all on his own.

He liked it and couldn't deny the feeling of abandonment. It made him seem as though he too was dead. Perhaps this feeling of dying was not as scary as people foretold.

****

The High Realm harbored all kinds of majestic dignifies, but with pompous fustian included. The Council of Elders for example, consisted of entities so full of themselves. Envy, resentment, malevolence and rivalry were excellent characterizing traits to use when describing more than half of the so called gods. They were all filled with discontentment, but carried on their faces concocted smiles all the time. Chantara had made apparent of her people as the green-eyed monsters.

"Beats me well that little misfit is on her way to death as we speak of." Said Amaranta to her sister, Lipa. Lipa was adorning her sister's hair with some lovely flowers. She sat on a mighty seat in front of a mighty mirror, Lipa, standing behind as she admired her sister's long and shinny hair. Unlike her sister, Lipa conveyed herself to be a warrior-like maiden. She'd also swore never to get betrothed. Lipa's short curls might had never looked better on any other maiden because they made her eyes shine beautiful and alluring, almost like the hairstyle was perfectly made for her alone.

"Do not say such hateful comments about her, sister." Warned Lipa.

"Oh what do you mean, sister?" Asked Amaranta, abruptly turning to face Lipa.

Lipa let go of her hair, staring at no one but the slender tall reflection of herself in the mirror. "You all hate her, wishing her nothing but bad luck all the time."

Amaranta frowned. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. I just wish for once, we could relent with our pretending and just love each other-"

"That life you wish for is not meant for us anymore." Scowled Amaranta. "It'll be better you buried that thought once and for all."

"You never listen to me. Ever since you became a member of the Councils, I don't matter in your life no more." Cried Lipa in discouragement.

Families members of the Councils were allowed unlimited visitations to the Supreme household, so Lipa never missed a visit every once in a while. It was saddening to see her sister changed like the rest of the other gods did the moment they arose into power.

Besides that, she had hope for Chantara. Lipa had always appreciated her from a distance.

"You don't matter indeed. As long as you keep choosing low disreputable gods above me, yes! You don't matter anymore."

"You're wrong, sister. I do believe in that particular low disreputable god you just spoke lowly of." Lipa said, with confidence and a bit of relieve in her voice. "I believe in Chantara regardless of whatever you may think."

"Leave my room at once." Ordered Amaranta, and her sister obeyed instantly dashing out with a big slam at the door.

****

Nobody had a bit of hope in Chantara, so far with what he'd heard. A moonlight would be over in the blink of an eye, and soon, a new Moonlighter, sent down to earth. In so little time, all of the Council of Elders will perish, along side the Supreme, and all glory will finally be his. A wicked scorn glowed across his eyes, and a breath of content satisfied his mind. He could see them all from the little magic mirror before his sight. The gods were in a disorganized state with hate and hostility and with time, it will grow stronger amongst them.

The dark Lord awaits this day. A day he calls the day of reckoning.