The Becoming of Lune

Chapter Eighteen

Valen returned almost every night after that.

Most of the time they spoke of the other gods; who they were and their mannerisms. Sometimes they traded questions and answers, still learning as much as they could about one another. Sometimes, Farra was there.

Farra, for the first time, was forthcoming on who he actually was as a god.

He was not an all powerful god such as Valen, but he was not only the God of Love either. Farra had given the majority of his magic to Valen after Moruna's passing, therefore leaving him as just a less powerful version of who he once was. He still had his sway over emotions, but decided love was the one he wanted to prioritize.

Cerast attempted to ask Farra about his and Valen's sister, yet was met with the same promise to speak of it later. Whatever had happened had left the two heartbroken from what Cerast gathered and he did not push the subject.

The day Cerast finished the poison for Lira was a dreadful one. Once he had heard of the woman's passing the next night, Cerast had wept for her and both Farra and Valen were there to soothe him. No matter his assurance that she would be safe where her soul was going, it still hurt.

He did not attend her funeral, for even if the villagers knew him as someone to call upon for help, they still feared who he was.

Still, he had heard from the villagers who were less afraid that it was a affable affair. That Lira was buried underneath an elm tree with her husband. Cerast felt better knowing that in death, she was reunited with her lover.

Now, Cerast stood before her grave, finally able to see it as him and Valen aimed to leave for Unrir.

"It is a beautiful stone." Valen spoke from beside him, hands clutched behind his back.

The coronation was in three days, meaning they would have to leave tonight as to make there in time. Cerast could have been there in a day if he wanted to risk blessing Lilac, but did not want to rush when he did not want to go in the first place.

"Illian carved it. He has been the stonemason all his life and his experience shows." Cerast stared down at the simple yet elegant grave. "I have no doubt she already had it before her death."

Lira certainly made sure her grave would embody who she was; hyacinth flowers bloomed around her name and swirling doves lined the outskirts of the stone. It was a bittersweet picture, but happy where one should not feel happiness.

Cerast closed his eyes for a moment, taking a breath and sighing from his nose before turning and walking towards where Lilac stood.

"Ready?" He called to Valen, mounting Lilac easily and waiting to hear the gods response.

"Of course. Though, you are sure I cannot just walk beside you? I hate to burden this creature." Valen frowned and reached forward to place a hand on the horse he spoke of.

"It would seem strange for you to walk and me to ride, Valen. Not to mention it is good for horses to travel. Poor Rán has not been anywhere besides the village since he was born, he will not mind, trust me."

"I could fly beside you." Valen tried, still wary and pouting as he hesitantly climbed atop Rán.

"Oh, truly? I am sure people will be less suspicious of an owl perched on my shoulder than a man riding beside me." Cerast snorted and led Lilac to begin walking.

Valen as an owl was an awe inspiring sight, with hues of brown feathers and the same mismatched eyes, but Cerast already received looks of judgement with a falcon and did not want all the villagers to think he collected birds of prey.