Chapter 433: The Moon’s Chosen (Patreon)

(AUTHOR'S NOTE: 24th, Aug.)

I have returned! After a week of the worse sore throat of my life I am back!
I was hoping to return earlier, but I was barely getting a couple of hours of sleep each night. I kept waking up in pain and covered in sweat, not fun times. But! Last night I finally had a decent night of rest and woke up with only a minor sore throat. I believe I am finally on the mend and so with newfound energy I finished writing up this chapter.
The chapters should be going back to their regular release schedule, barring any horrid relapse of covid. As your author I will try my best to stay healthy and deliver to you all the most exciting arc of RoM yet.
Thank you for so much for your many kind words during the last week. I read them all and seeing your kindness and patience has helped me weather these past few terrible days.
From the bottom of my heart, thank you,
~Frostbird

(AUTHOR'S NOTE END:)

The armored wolves standing watch in the halls of the Silver Keep pricked their ears up at the sound of Stryg’s footsteps. The wolves’ riders tried to calm down their mounts but the wolves hurried over to Stryg and lined up to his right and left, then bowed with a low excited bark.

The riders seemed as surprised as Stryg was and they looked at him with a bewildered expression. Stryg’s discomfort grew with each passing second. He quickened his pace and headed straight to the tribunal chamber.

The wide doors were already open when he arrived. Unlike the last time he was here, the chamber was empty, save for a pair of guards standing outside.

Stryg peeked his head inside and glanced around. This was supposed to be the meeting place, but he didn’t see anyone.

Just as he was about to turn around and walk back to the Celestial Shrine he spotted the Shaman Elect speaking to someone behind a pillar. She glanced over and they made eye contact.

Stryg stiffened, uncertain of what to say to the Sylvan leader he was willing to fight against not too long ago. Lumi looked him over, a range of emotions crossing her face; surprise, anger, frustration, and what seemed almost like… fear? Finally, her expression settled into a blank canvas. She turned to her unseen conversation partner and gestured towards the doorway. The Mother and Warrior Elects stepped out from behind the pillar’s shadow. All three of them looked haggard as if they had just returned from battle.

“Hello…? I was told to come here by, well, um.” Stryg wasn’t sure what to say. How did one explain that a goddess had ordered him to come into their sacred chamber for a ‘chat’ without sounding crazy?

Sabina spoke up first. “The Mother Elect greets the Moon’s Chosen.” She held her hands together and bowed.

Stryg blinked. “Moon’s Chosen…?”

Lykos stepped forward and bowed, his arms straight at his sides. “The Warrior Elect greets the Moon’s Chosen.”

Lumi glanced at her two fellow Elects in surprise before quickly following suit. “The Shaman Elect greets the Moon’s Chosen.”

Stryg looked behind him, but there was no one there. “Um, I think there might be a mistake—”

Sabina raised her hands placatingly. “Rest assured, Chosen One, the Mother Moon has thoroughly revealed to us our mistakes. I was wrong to have turned my back on the goblins living in Hollow Shade. They are still Sylvan— even if they do not know it.”

“I have already arranged for my men to open the ancient armories,” Lykos added. “Coupled with the new weapons our blacksmiths are forging non-stop as we speak I believe our warriors will be fully armed over the next three days.”

“I have begun the arrangements of the shaman teams and their dispositions. If you have the time tomorrow, I’d be honored if you could have a look at the teams’ lineups and inspect their potential,” Lumi said begrudgingly.

“Oh, uh, I don’t know why you’d ask me… I’m only a master mage. You’re the Shaman Elect.”

Lumi straightened her back. “You were named War Master. I, along with every other mage, am duty bound to report to you, just as you’re duty bound to ensure our magical military might is prepared for the coming battles.”

“Wait, War Master?” Stryg stumbled back a step. He glanced at the three Elects in disbelief. “You can’t really expect me to lead an army! I’ve never even led a battalion!”

“We trust you will lead us to victory in the coming campaign,” Lykos said solemnly and from the look in his eye it really seemed he believed it. “I will support you in whatever ways I can. Feel free to call on me whenever you are in doubt.”

Stryg shook his head, “No, stop! This is insane! Why in all the bloody realms did you name me as War Master!?”

The Elects glanced at each other.

“We didn’t name you,” Sabina said. “She did.”

“Who is she—?” Stryg’s eyes widened in comprehension. “Oh…”

“She is waiting for you,” Sabina raised her arm towards the Midnight Mirror. A small white silhouette sat alone on the shallow pool terrace.

“We’ll speak more on your duties tomorrow, Chosen One. Until then, I will take my leave,” Sabina bowed her head once more and left.

“Chose One,” Lumi and Lykos bowed as well and left without another word.

Stryg watched them go in mute shock. He had a thousand questions he wanted to ask before coming here and now he found himself with only more, along with a mountain of anxiety.

There was only one person who could give him the answers he sought. With nervous steps, Stryg headed down the chamber’s stairs. He took off his boots and walked onto the terrace. The cold water reached his ankles and sent tiny pinpricks into his toes. Each step he took sent ripples over the shallow surface, disrupting the perfect reflection of the midnight sky.

At the edge of the terrace sat a young girl wearing a simple white dress with her feet dangling off the balcony’s edge. Her skin was like silver and her long snow-white hair flowed across her back and unto the pool’s water behind her.

She wasn’t a massive and terrifying wolf but a woman smaller than Maeve, yet Stryg recognized her for what she was just the same. He stopped ten paces behind her and fidgeted with his hands.

What should he say? What could he say? He had no idea.

“Sit with me, little one,” Lunae said without glancing back at him.

“Uh, yes!” Stryg choked out a response and stiffly sat down at the edge a couple of paces away. He glanced at her from the corner of his, careful not to be disrespectful. She looked younger than he had imagined, around his age.

He thought she looked more beautiful than any of the paintings had made her out to be. He had never seen a woman so fair and yet he strangely felt no lust for her.

Lunae looked up and admired the night sky. “The moon is beautiful tonight, don’t you think?”

“Huh?” Stryg glanced up at the moon. It had been full a few days ago. Now it was beginning to wane, though it shined just as brilliantly in the dark. “Oh, uh, yes! You are very beautiful tonight, goddess.”

Lunae looked at him and laughed. Her voice was full of mirth. “I am not the moon, little one.”

Stryg furrowed his brow in confusion. Why she called him little despite being smaller than him he wasn’t certain, more importantly, “But you are the Mother Moon.”

“The moon and I are intertwined in ways no one else can be. In many ways, I am the reflection of the moon and she of me. She influences me just as I influence her, but I am not she.”

“I see…” Stryg nodded and smiled weakly.

“Do you?”

“Not really.”

Lunae chuckled and turned her gaze back to the sky.

Stryg opened his mouth to speak, but his voice caught in his throat. He wasn’t certain how to begin. He had so much he wanted to say, but he couldn’t even figure out how to properly address her.

The goddess noticed his rising discomfort and smiled sympathetically, “You do not have to tiptoe around me. Speak what’s on your mind.”

“I just— I wanted to say thank you.” Stryg bowed his head, “I’m grateful for your help, in all of this, really. I would never have been able to convince the tribunal to send the Sylvan armies out of the forest.”

The young woman raised her eyebrow, “But…?”

Stryg swallowed, “But I don’t think I can serve as your War Master. I don’t have the experience to lead an army. There must be several more suitable candidates, like the Warrior Elect.”

“Lykos and the others will advise you when needed.”

“But—”

“Were you not the one who sat at the top of this mountain and swore at the sky and declared to me that you would show me what you could do? You said you would fight for the people that I abandoned. Now I’ve given you a chance to do it all. Why hesitate?”

Stryg’s cheeks burned. He could almost feel the red flushing over his face. “Y-You were listening when I said that?”

“I was,” she smirked.

“I didn’t realize you could see everything at once,” he mumbled.

“I can’t. I was watching you at that time.”

Stryg recalled what he had said to the midnight sky, hoping Lunae could hear. Now he wished she hadn’t. “That night, did you hear everything?”

“Every last word.” Lunae placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, “…I’m sorry I wasn’t there to save your friend. I’m sorry I wasn’t there all those times you needed me.”

Tears burned at the corner of his eyes. “I don’t understand. You weren’t there but you act like you care. Why would you care about me? Were the Elects telling the truth? Am I your… chosen?”

“Yes,” she said without hesitance.

“But… Why choose me? You could show your favor to anyone. You could have chosen the Silver Mother or the Mother Elect, why did you choose me?”

“I didn’t.” Lunae smiled bittersweetly, “It’s more like you found me.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You don’t have to.”

Stryg looked away and stared at the mountain ravine below. Never in his life had he felt at such a loss of what to say. Every sentence that came out of her mouth confused him more.

“Why did you ask me to come here?” he mumbled.

“What the Sylvan are preparing to do, what we’ve set in motion is going to be very dangerous for all our people.”

Stryg nodded grimly in understanding. “If the enemy truly has allied with House Thorn, then Marek will possess the largest army in the realm. If we fight them, we will surely lose many warriors.” His eyes lit with hope, “But with you by our side surely we’ll win.”

“It is not the army I worry about. It is the man that leads them.”

“Worried? You?” Stryg didn’t know gods could be scared of anything. “You’re worried about— Marek?”

The name still brought up fresh pain in his chest. The night at Widow’s Crag, when Marek had defeated him and struck Clypeus down. Stryg clenched his fists. He would never forgive him and soon he would kill him.

“I do not care about the dire human, he is only a puppet. I speak of the man behind him, pulling Marek’s strings from the shadows. I speak of Caligo.”

Stryg coughed. “The god!? I don’t understand, why would a god attack Hollow Shade? The city literally has the largest temples dedicated to Caligo in the entire realm.”

Lunae stared up at the night sky deep in thought. “...Caligo despises the ebon lords for killing my brother, Solis.” She sighed sadly, “Unfortunately, the truth is more complicated.”

(AUTHOR'S NOTE:)

The conversation Stryg and Lunae reference can be found in chapter 397 for those curious :)