Moonbound and Undying

Chapter 3: The Celestial and the Mortal

The moon hung high in the sky, casting its silvery glow over the quiet village below. The night was still, save for the gentle rustling of leaves in the soft breeze, and the distant hoot of an owl. The sacred grove, which had always been a place of solace for Amaris, now felt charged with something more—something unknown and dangerous. She had felt it the moment she stepped into the clearing, an energy that pulsed in the air, tangible and potent. But this was different from the magic she knew, different from the familiar hum of the Moon's power.

This presence was celestial. Divine.

Amaris stood perfectly still, her dark eyes scanning the grove as her pulse quickened. She had lived her entire life in service to the Moon and its magic, but never had she felt something like this—an energy so vast and overwhelming, yet oddly... warm. It was like standing on the edge of a storm, the air thick with electricity, every sense heightened, as if the world itself was holding its breath.

Her fingers instinctively grazed the small pendant that hung around her neck—a silver crescent moon, a gift from her mother. It was a talisman, a symbol of her connection to the Moon Goddess, but tonight it felt cold against her skin, as if it too could sense the presence of something far more powerful.

Amaris took a step forward, her senses on high alert, her hand reaching instinctively toward the pouch of herbs at her side. She didn't know what was out there, watching her from the shadows, but she wasn't about to be caught off guard.

Then, she saw him.

At first, it was just a flicker, a brief glimpse of movement among the trees. But as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, the figure became clearer. A man—tall, broad-shouldered, with an otherworldly presence that made the air hum around him. His wings—brilliant, white, and luminous—were folded neatly behind him, their edges catching the moonlight in a way that made them seem to glow. He stepped into the clearing with a grace that was both human and not, his movements smooth, effortless.

Amaris' breath caught in her throat. She had heard stories of angels—of their beauty, their power—but she had never believed she would see one in her lifetime. The angels had left the world long ago, retreating to their realm in the heavens, leaving mortals to fend for themselves. Their presence was a distant memory, a myth. And yet, here he was, standing before her in the flesh.

Her first instinct was to flee. To run back to the safety of her village, to the familiarity of her people. But something held her in place—an invisible force that made it impossible to tear her gaze away from the figure in front of her. He was... beautiful. More beautiful than any mortal man she had ever seen. His features were sharp and defined, his eyes glowing with a light that seemed to come from within, ancient and knowing. And yet, despite the power that radiated from him, there was something in his expression—something almost... hesitant.

Amaris swallowed hard, her fingers tightening around the pouch of herbs at her side. She didn't know whether to be wary or curious. The stories of angels were filled with both wonder and danger. They were beings of immense power, capable of both creation and destruction. And while this one had not yet spoken, his presence alone was enough to make her heart race with both fear and intrigue.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The night stretched between them, thick with tension, the only sound the whisper of the wind in the trees.

Finally, it was Michael who broke the silence.

"I mean you no harm," he said softly, his voice low and calm, as though he could sense the wariness in her stance. His gaze was steady, unwavering, but there was no threat in his posture, no sign of hostility. "I'm here... because I was drawn here."