The Goddess in the Mist

Eila stood barefoot on an endless white floor, the world around her blanketed in a thick, shimmering fog. The air felt weightless, the silence almost sacred—until a soft, melodic voice floated through the mist, like a song carried on a breeze. She couldn't understand the words, but the sound was enchanting, coaxing her forward.

She walked cautiously, her steps soundless against the ethereal floor, until the haze gradually thinned. There, amidst the cloud of white, stood a woman of breathtaking beauty—so mesmerizing that Eila nearly forgot how to breathe.

The woman wore a gown that seemed to be woven from live flowers and strands of solidified smoke, the petals shifting and blooming with every subtle movement. Her long silver hair cascaded like liquid moonlight, and her eyes—also silver—held a depth that seemed older than time itself. She was not just beautiful. She was otherworldly.

Eila, who remembered falling asleep in her usual clothes, glanced down to see herself dressed in a simple white gown, delicate and soft as silk. She touched the fabric in disbelief, her heart pounding with the surrealness of it all.

The woman ceased her humming and turned her radiant gaze to Eila, a gentle smile tugging at her lips.

"Eila, my child, how are you feeling?" the woman asked, her voice clear and warm, yet resonant like a melody.

Eila blinked, her mouth parting in surprise. Child? The woman before her looked barely older than Eila herself—though something about her aura spoke of ancient power. Tentatively, Eila replied, "I… I'm fine, I think."

The woman chuckled softly, and as if reading Eila's confusion, she said, "Ah, forgive me. I forgot to introduce myself. You know me by many names… but you may call me the Moon Goddess."

The air around them seemed to hum at her words. Eila's breath caught in her throat, her eyes wide with disbelief. She raised a hand to her mouth, muffling her gasp. She didn't mean to sound rude, but the words escaped her in a whisper, "Are you telling the truth?"

The Moon Goddess only smiled, a serene yet knowing curve of her lips, and nodded.

"I hope by now," she continued, "you understand the gifts that awaken within you… and how special you are to me."

Eila felt her face flush. "Special?" she repeated, almost with a scoff. "Goddess, I… these gifts, they make me stand out too much. They've painted a target on my back. Jeremy Soren hunts me because of them."

The Goddess's expression turned thoughtful, yet not unkind. "Jeremy Soren… yes, the wayward soul. He will pay dearly for the sins of his past and those he has stacked in this life. His power is rooted in corruption, and it will always pale before the gifts I have given you." She smiled then, almost mischievous. "You are my favorite, after all."

Eila's eyes shimmered with unfallen tears. "But why me?" she whispered. "What did I do to deserve this? Why was I chosen?"

The Goddess tilted her head, as though she was regarding Eila's very soul. "It is not just you, dear one. Your bloodline—on both sides—has been devoted to me for generations beyond count. Their prayers, their unwavering faith, have borne fruit in you and your siblings. You are all destined to leave your mark on this world. My blessings are my gratitude to your family."

The lump in Eila's throat grew tighter. She felt a surge of pride mingled with disbelief. Her entire family… chosen?

Wiping a tear discreetly, she dared another question. "Can you tell me, please—will I really be able to close the rift?"

The Goddess's silver gaze softened with affection. "That is why I have called you here. Do not waste more time on hesitation or endless practice. The power you need is already within you. When you face the Rift next… you will close it. Completely."

Eila's eyes widened, a spark of hope igniting—but just as quickly, a shadow crossed her mind. "You said there will be a price… what do you mean?"

The Moon Goddess only smiled, enigmatic and gentle. "A small price, nothing you cannot bear. But the reward you'll receive in return… will be far greater."

That only deepened Eila's confusion, but she could sense the finality in the Goddess's tone. The fog around them began to swirl again, growing denser, as the vision prepared to fade.

"Now, my child," the Goddess whispered, her voice beginning to dissolve into the mist, "off you go. Do not fear—nothing shall stop you from claiming your destiny."

Eila reached out as if to grasp her, but the silver-haired Goddess was already dissolving into the luminous white around her.

Then darkness,

And Eila awoke, breathless, her heart pounding, the Goddess's final words still echoing in her mind:

"Nothing will come in your path of success."