The Becoming of Lune

Chapter Fourteen

74 years later

Cerast woke with a stretch. His bones clicked and popped satisfyingly, his eyes opening and adjusting quick to the darkness of night.

It had taken a year or so to adapt to sleeping during the day and waking as the sun was already set. Cerast found himself liking his new schedule though, often taking a moment to bask in the night before carrying on his day.

Being a god was not all that different than being a human he discovered. Cerast still helped the villagers who needed it, though he could not perform any intricate magic without fearing the moons wrath. He still dried his herbs and talked to Farra almost daily.

Only, along with his poultices and balms, Cerast now prayed to the moon and spoke to it as he worked.

As he slowly got out of bed, Cerast set to work on quelling the hunger in his stomach by nibbling on bread and cheese. The villagers of Raevor were confused at first due to his appearance buying food, but quickly wrote it off as he paid them handsomely with his coin he had accumulated through his years.

His humans also eventually caught wind of his new schedule and sought him out according to it. Most of his work was done outside now, just before dusk set and before dawn broke the horizon.

There was nobody outside his home today, the hut in his yard empty. He had built it near fifty years ago, the roof absent and the shelves of items closed against any rain that might occur. Cerast usually went there first thing when he woke, but today steered off a path to his garden.

Before, Cerast had grown his herbs in boxes along the side of his cottage, yet learned that needing to eat also benefited from growing vegetables and berries.

Rows of lettuce, potatoes, carrots and various other greens and berry bushes were darkened in hue by the lack of sun.

One night, Cerast found Sasphor urging weeds back into the soil and has not seen another since. Perhaps it was a gift to a new god, or maybe Sasphor just wanted to help, but Cerast appreciated it anyway.

"Mind if I accompany you?"

Farra's voice was not a surprise. The God of Love was with Cerast nearly every night, the two of them growing to even better friends after almost a century.

"Is it only to steal more of my strawberries?" Cerast smiled towards Farra, bending down to check on how his carrots were coming along.

"Perhaps. But we both know you planted those for me anyway, Cerast." Farra, now standing beside said strawberries, gently plucked a ripe fruit from its vine.

Cerast hummed and continued on, picking for himself some raspberries and popping them into his mouth with delight.

After not eating for centuries unless he was forced, Cerast found the act of it enjoyable. Probably more so than when he was truly human. Everything tasted fresh and delicious on his tongue and made him long for the days when his mother would make him sweet desserts for his birthday.

"Are you quite busy tonight? I should like to talk about something- someone, with you." Farra nervously rolled the strawberry in his palm, his eyes cast downwards.

Cerast straightened and stared at Farra for a moment before exhaling and nodding to his shed. It had been a long time since Farra had taken on that tone of voice.

Farra followed behind him as Cerast unlocked the door to the hut, closing it behind him before stepping towards the fire pit near the center of the room. Though Cerast did not feel cold all that much, Farra did.

"Drexan spoke to me today. Woke me up by nearly pulling out one of my feathers mind you, but he knew you would actually hurt him if he woke you up." Farra huffed sharply and made his way to the newly burning fire, kneeling down to let the warmth coat him.