When the Moonlight Vanished, the New God Regretted Everything

I am the Moon Goddess Cynthia's spirit rabbit. My mistress is the most beautiful woman on Olympus. Yet for a mortal named Arthur, she lowered her divine rank and spent eight hundred years by his side in the mortal realm. The priests sneered at Arthur. "He only grows his divinity when the goddess cracks the whip. What a pathetic, henpecked fool." Arthur always smiled gently. "As long as I can stay by Cynthia's side, nothing else matters." Yet the moment he finally ascended to true godhood, he defied my mistress and brought a delicate mortal woman back from the Misty Forest. Her name was Helen. He shielded the woman behind him. "Cynthia, Helen and I have forged a soul-binding contract. No matter how you punish me, she must stay." I bared my fangs, certain Cynthia would put him in his place, the way she always had during his training. But this time, she didn't. She simply sat beneath the laurel tree Arthur had planted, stroked my ears, and spoke without emotion. "That's fine. It's too quiet here anyway. A bit of company wouldn't hurt." Arthur did not know that Cynthia had once made a wager with Zeus: if she failed to win a mortal's true love, she would have to return to the divine realm and submit to his arrangements. Cynthia had lost. The divine summons would arrive in forty-nine days. Years later, every trace of moonlight vanished from the mortal realm. The mighty new god Arthur then searched for the Moon Goddess for ten thousand years, driven mad with regret. Chapter 1 On Helen's first day at the temple, Cynthia watched the frail woman in silence. By mortal custom, a newcomer to the household was expected to present its lady with a ceremonial cup of wine. But Cynthia drank only moon-dew. No mortal wine could pass her lips. "Take it back." Helen's eyes immediately welled with tears. "Cynthia, if you can't stand having me here, I'll just leave." Then came the sound of the cup shattering. Helen suddenly dropped to the floor, a broad patch of skin on the back of her hand turning red. "Helen!" Arthur burst through the doors and shoved Cynthia aside. Cynthia's slender frame stumbled, her back slamming hard against the edge of the stone altar. I heard the dull thud clearly. "What do you think you're doing?" Arthur gathered Helen carefully into his arms. He looked up at Cynthia, his eyes full of blame. "Helen is just a mortal. She can't withstand your divine aura. "She brought you a ceremonial cup out of respect. Why would you push her?" I was shaking with rage. I kicked off hard with my hind legs and lunged for Helen's ankle, jaws wide open. That woman had dropped the cup on purpose. Cynthia hadn't so much as touched her. "Ahh!" Helen let out a piercing shriek. She burrowed frantically into Arthur's arms. "Arthur, save me! This beast is going to eat me!" Arthur's expression changed at once. He raised his hand, a blinding ball of golden divine fire forming in his palm. He hurled it straight at me. That was the primordial fire Cynthia had spent a century helping him refine. Now he was using it on me. "Puff, come here." Cynthia's voice was as calm as ever. She raised her hand, and a silver arc of moonlight formed a shield above my head. The divine fire struck the moonlight, and the two forces canceled each other out. Arthur withdrew his hand, his expression dark. "Cynthia, you'd actually protect an animal over Helen? "It bit Helen." Cynthia bent down and scooped me into her arms. "Puff is not an animal. She is my family. "And Helen's injury?" Cynthia's gaze fell on Helen's ankle, which bore not a single mark. "Why don't you look for yourself and see whether Puff actually bit her?" Arthur looked down. Helen's ankle was smooth and unblemished. There wasn't even a red spot. Helen's crying faltered. She bit her lip, tears flowing even harder. "I was just so scared. I'm sorry, Cynthia. "I grew up in the forest. I've never seen such a fierce pet." A flicker of sympathy crossed Arthur's eyes. He pulled Helen close again. "It's not your fault. This rabbit's just too wild." He turned to Cynthia, his tone edged with command. "Helen is delicate. She can't handle being startled. "Lock the rabbit away on the mountain behind the temple." Cynthia's hand, which had been stroking my fur, went still. She looked at Arthur as though seeing a stranger. "And if I refuse?" Arthur frowned. He clearly hadn't expected her to say no. "Cynthia, you never used to be this unreasonable. "Helen's life is bound to mine. If anything happens to her, I'll suffer the backlash. "Can't you give me even that much consideration?" Cynthia laughed. "Arthur, half your divinity came from my own essence. "And you want to talk to me about backlash." Arthur's face turned scarlet. It was the one vulnerability he could not bear to have exposed. Helen, ever so understanding, immediately tugged at his sleeve. "Arthur, please don't fight with Cynthia over me. "I'm fine. I can bear it." Her gaze swept the hall and landed on the moonvine throne at its center. It was woven from thousand-year thunderwood and moonlight vines. "Cynthia, I'm so cold. Could I borrow your chair, just for a little while?" Helen pointed at the throne, her eyes wide and innocent. Arthur nodded at once. "Go ahead. It'll be good for you." He had completely forgotten. That throne could only be touched by those of the Moon Goddess's bloodline. Any mortal who sat in it would have their soul scorched by its light. Helen lifted her skirts and walked toward it. Cynthia did not stop her. I watched as Helen sat down. The next second, it happened. Blinding silver light erupted from the throne. Helen screamed and was flung backward, crashing hard to the floor. "Helen!" Arthur rushed to her like a man possessed. He whipped around, eyes bloodshot, and glared at Cynthia. "Cynthia, how did you become so cruel?" Cynthia lowered her gaze, hiding the desolation in her eyes. "That is the Moon Goddess's sacred throne. "Any mortal who touches it will suffer its backlash. "I thought you still remembered." Arthur froze. Of course he remembered. That had been eight hundred years ago. He had accidentally touched that very throne and nearly been destroyed. It was Cynthia who saved him. But now he chose to forget. "If she can't sit in it," Arthur rose, his face cold. He lifted a hand, and golden light flashed across the hall. The priceless moonvine throne was split clean in two. "then there's no need to keep it." Arthur scooped Helen into his arms. He walked out without looking back. "From now on, Helen can come into this hall whenever she pleases. "You'd better put away anything that could hurt her." The great hall fell silent once more. Cynthia stood motionless where she was. Chapter 2 "This laurel tree blocks the sunlight from the bedchamber. Helen's too frail for the cold and shade." Arthur stood in the center of the courtyard, gripping a dark-gold divine axe. The tree went back eight hundred years. To win Cynthia's favor, he had crossed the frozen wastelands in an act of grueling penance to obtain the sacred seed. He had said this tree would stand with her, a witness to their eternal bond. Now he was going to chop it down with his own hands. Cynthia was sitting on the steps, brushing my fur. "This tree has been growing for eight hundred years. Its roots have already merged with the temple's ley lines." She didn't look up. "If you force it down, you'll damage the ley lines." Arthur frowned. "Helen coughed through the entire night. "The healer said she needs plenty of sunlight to drive the cold from her body. "It's only damage to the ley lines. I'll restore them with my power." He stepped forward and raised the axe. I tore free of Cynthia's arms and raced to the tree, clamping my teeth around the axe handle with everything I had. This tree could not be cut down. A sliver of Cynthia's soul lay buried beneath it. She had used it all those years ago to coax the seed to life. She had torn that sliver from her own soul. If the tree fell, Cynthia's soul would be gravely wounded. "Get out of the way." Arthur kicked me in the stomach. I curled into a ball, gasping in pain. Cynthia rose at once and hurried to my side, gathering me into her arms. "Arthur, this tree matters to me." Her voice was a little hoarse, with a plea so faint it was almost impossible to hear. Eight hundred years she had stood beside him. Never once had she spoken to him in that tone, until now. Arthur's grip on the axe tightened. Conflict flickered in his eyes. Just then, Helen emerged from the side chamber in a thin nightgown. She pressed a hand to her mouth, coughing violently. "Arthur, please, just let it go. "Cynthia can't bear to lose this tree. I'll just wear more layers. "Cough, cough... at worst, I'll just... I'll stop seeking treatment." Her body went limp, and she fell straight toward the ground. Arthur dropped the axe and caught her just in time. "Don't talk nonsense." Arthur stroked her face tenderly. He turned back to Cynthia. Every trace of hesitation had vanished from his eyes. "It's just a tree. "Are you really going to stand by and watch Helen die over a dead piece of wood?" He beckoned, and the divine axe flew back to his hand. Golden power surged into the blade. Its edge erupted in blinding light. Crack! The laurel tree let out a shrill, anguished cry. A deep gash split its trunk. Cynthia's body jolted. The color drained from her face in an instant. Arthur didn't stop. The second strike fell. Then came a third. A thunderous crash rang through the courtyard. The laurel tree collapsed. Sunlight poured in unobstructed, stinging my eyes. Cynthia clutched her chest and stared at Arthur. "Are you satisfied now?" Arthur lowered the axe. He didn't spare a glance at the broken branches and scattered leaves. "Should've just let me do it from the start." He lifted Helen and turned toward the side chamber. Helen nestled in his arms and looked past his shoulder. Her gaze settled on an ancient well in the corner of the courtyard. That was the sacred spring. "Arthur." Helen's voice was faint. "The healer said my medicine needs to be brewed with the purest water. "That well over there looks perfect." Arthur paused and followed her gaze. "All right. I'll have someone draw from it right away." "No." Cynthia cut in. Her voice was cold as ice. "That is the Moon Goddess's Spring. "Any mortal who drinks from it will burst apart and die." Arthur gave a derisive laugh. "Cynthia, just to keep Helen from using your things, "you'd stoop to making up a lie like that? "I'm a god now. You think I can't tell whether this water is poisonous?" He waved his hand. A surge of power swept water from the spring. It funneled straight into Helen's medicine pot. Cynthia closed her eyes. She said nothing more. That spring was what she used every day to suppress the divine curse within her. The water was gone now. Cynthia would have to endure the agony of the curse alone. It happened that same afternoon. Temple guards carried in crate after crate. Inside were hundreds of sun emblems cast in pure gold. "Helen says the temple feels too plain." Arthur stood in the center of the great hall. He directed the guards. "Hang these in every corner. "Especially across the ceiling of the main hall." They were sun emblems. They bore the sigil of Apollo, the sun god. The Moon Goddess's temple was being filled with the sun god's emblems. It was more than an insult to the Moon Goddess. It was torture for Cynthia. The Moon Goddess was vulnerable to intense light. That was especially true now that the spring's protection was gone. "Arthur." Cynthia sat in the shadows. "Must you push things this far?" Arthur glanced at her pale face, a note of impatience in his voice. "Helen likes sunlight. She needs sunlight. "You're a goddess. Can't you show a mortal a little tolerance? "This temple is Helen's home now." He turned away. Then he went back to directing the guards. "Hang them higher. Don't let the shadows block them." Chapter 3 "Arthur, that rabbit's fur is white as snow. If you made it into a stole, I'd never be cold in winter." Helen leaned against Arthur's shoulder, greed glinting in her eyes. I was dozing at Cynthia's feet. At those words, every hair on my body stood on end. That woman was not content with taking Cynthia's things. Now she wanted my life too. Arthur looked over, following her finger. "Its fur really is pure white. "If you want it, I'll have someone skin it for you." I stared in disbelief. Had he lost his mind? I was a Starlight Rabbit, born alongside the Moon Goddess herself. Cynthia shot to her feet and pulled me tight against her chest. "Arthur, touch her and see what happens." Her voice was quiet, but it carried a force that brooked no refusal. The temperature in the hall plummeted. Arthur blinked, caught off guard. It had been a long time since he'd felt Cynthia's fury. But he recovered quickly and seemed to find her anger almost laughable. "Cynthia, you'd really fight me over an animal?" He took a step closer and stared her down. "Helen's health is getting worse. "Ordinary clothes can't keep her warm. "This rabbit is nothing but trouble. Might as well put it to use." Cynthia looked at him, her disappointment so thick it was almost tangible. "Put it to use." She turned the phrase over slowly. "Arthur, I put everything I had into saving that life of yours. "What gives you the right to touch what's mine?" Arthur's expression went cold. "There you go again, holding the past over my head." He said through clenched teeth. "I've already repaid everything I owed you. "I'm a god now. If I want a rabbit's pelt, do I really need your permission?" He thrust out his hand. A powerful force erupted from his palm. I dug my claws into Cynthia's robes and shrieked in terror. Cynthia swept one hand outward. A blade of moonlight severed Arthur's pull. "You want something to keep the cold out?" Cynthia took a deep breath. She reached into her own chest and tore something free. A pearl glowing with soft white light was ripped out of her. It was the Moon Soul Pearl. The loss struck Cynthia at once. Her face turned the color of ash. She swayed, nearly collapsing. "Take it." She tossed the Moon Soul Pearl at Arthur's feet. "This is a hundred times more useful than rabbit fur. "Wear it, and no cold will ever touch her." Arthur stared at the pearl on the ground, stunned. He hadn't expected Cynthia to go this far for me. Helen immediately ran over and snatched up the pearl. The moment it touched her hand, color returned to her pallid cheeks. "Thank you, Cynthia." She smiled sweetly, as though she hadn't just been asking to have me skinned. Arthur said nothing. He gave Cynthia one long, unreadable look, then led Helen away. Night fell. The temple hosted a grand banquet. It celebrated Arthur's formal claim to the worship of the entire continent. Mortal royalty and nobles gathered from across the land. Cynthia hadn't planned to attend. But Arthur sent word. If she didn't appear, she would be insulting the mortal faithful and refusing to acknowledge him as the new god. Cynthia changed into a gown, gathered me in her arms, and walked quietly into the great hall. A towering throne stood at the center of the hall. Arthur had ordered it made. He and Helen sat upon it side by side. Helen was wearing a shimmering gown that caught the light with every movement. It was the Moonlight Gown, the ceremonial dress reserved for the Moon Goddess across the ages. Only a true goddess could wear it and bring out its splendor. On Helen, a mortal, the gown looked absurdly out of place. She looked like a child playing dress-up in her mother's clothes. The nobles and lords below were eager to curry favor with the soon-to-be god. They raised their glasses and showered Helen with flattery, praising Arthur's taste. Cynthia found a seat in a corner and paid the hollow compliments no mind. The banquet was halfway over. Helen suddenly stood. She took a goblet of wine and wobbled over to Cynthia. "Cynthia. "Today Arthur became ruler of this land. It's a day worth celebrating. "I'd like to raise a glass to you." She held the goblet out toward Cynthia. She deliberately tipped her wrist. The wine was about to spill all over Cynthia. Cynthia didn't even flinch. She simply watched Helen. Arthur appeared at Helen's side and caught her wrist. "Careful." Arthur spoke gently to Helen. Then he turned to Cynthia. His tone turned cold at once. "Cynthia, Helen was kind enough to toast you. "You won't even take the cup? You really don't know what's good for you." He took the goblet from Helen, refilled it, and thrust it toward Cynthia. "Now. Toast Helen. "Consider it an apology for what you've done." The hall fell silent. A true goddess was being ordered to offer an apologetic toast to a mortal woman. The humiliation was beyond measure. Cynthia looked at the goblet before her. Not a ripple of emotion crossed her eyes. "And if I don't?" Arthur sneered, and the weight of his near-divine power pressed down on the room. "If you don't, "you'll be telling every believer in this hall that you're jealous of Helen, that you can't tolerate her. "And to appease their anger, I'll have no choice but to move you out of the main hall tonight." "Is that so." Cynthia not only left the goblet untouched, she raised her eyes a fraction to meet his. "Ahh!" Before Arthur could erupt, Helen let out a bloodcurdling scream. Her goblet shattered on the floor. She dropped to her knees in agony and violently retched up a mouthful of blood. "Helen!" Arthur's face drained of color. Panic overtook him, and he forgot all about Cynthia. He scooped up Helen's convulsing body and rushed toward the back of the hall amid the shocked cries of the assembled nobles. I watched Arthur flee in panic. Cynthia stroked my long fur gently and calmly lowered her eyes. Only three days remained. Chapter 4 "Helen's soul has cracked. Only the heart-blood of an ancient true god can mend it." Arthur stood beside Cynthia's bed and stared at her. His voice left no room for discussion. It was an order, delivered as if her compliance were a given. Today was the last day of the divine curse's countdown. Cynthia lay in bed without the Moon Soul Pearl or the sacred spring to restrain the curse. The curse inside her had erupted in full force. Her divine soul felt as though it were being gnawed by a million ants. Even breathing was agony. I lay beside her pillow. My heart ached as I watched cold sweat bead across her forehead and licked her face over and over. "Heart-blood." Cynthia's mouth twisted. The result was a smile more painful than tears. "Arthur, do you have any idea what it means to take a true god's heart-blood?" Arthur's gaze wavered for an instant. But he steadied himself just as quickly. "The healer said it's only a bowlful. "Rest for a few hundred years and you'll recover. "But Helen can't wait. "The cracks are spreading. If they aren't sealed soon, her soul will shatter." He stepped closer, a sharp dagger in his hand. "Cynthia, you were willing to give her the Moon Soul Pearl. "Surely you won't begrudge her a bowl of heart-blood." I leapt up in fury and hissed at Arthur with every breath I had. He was a monster. How could he say something like that? Cynthia had already given him everything. Now he wanted her life. "Get out!" I screamed with all my strength. To him, though, my voice was nothing but a rabbit's squeal. Arthur waved his hand in irritation, and a blast of force sent me flying. I slammed hard into the wall. Then I slid to the floor. It felt like several of my bones had snapped. "Puff!" Cynthia cried out and tried to force herself upright. But Arthur pressed a hand to her shoulder and pinned her down. "Hold still." His voice was cold and merciless. "It'll be quick." Cynthia stopped struggling. She looked at Arthur, her gaze terrifyingly empty. "Arthur, in eight hundred years, have I ever done anything to wrong you?" Arthur went rigid. The dagger hung motionless in midair. He looked at Cynthia's ashen face, and memories flooded through him. His memories carried him back eight hundred years. Enemies had hunted him down, and Cynthia had descended from the heavens to save him. She had woven an unbreakable shield of moonlight around him. He had wanted to become a god. Cynthia had worked day and night to help him forge his divinity. Without Cynthia, Arthur would never have become what he was. "You..." Arthur's mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out. "No." Cynthia answered for him. "I gave you everything I could. "And now you want to take the very last thing I have left." She closed her eyes. A single tear slid from the corner of her eye. "Fine. Take it." Cynthia suddenly seized the wrist that held the dagger and drove the blade into her own chest. A wet, tearing sound filled the room. Arthur's eyes went wide. He tried to pull free, but Cynthia kept his wrist locked in her grasp. Golden blood flowed out, dripping into the bowl Arthur had prepared. Each drop pulsed with concentrated divine power. Cynthia's face went gray, fast enough to watch it happen. Her life force was ebbing fast. "Enough! That's enough!" Arthur panicked. He wrenched his hand free and pulled out the dagger. Blood gushed from the wound. It soaked the front of Cynthia's robes red. Arthur held the bowl in trembling hands. He looked at Cynthia lying on the bed. A sudden, nameless panic surged through him. It felt as though something precious were disappearing from his life forever. "Rest well." He left those words behind and fled. I dragged my broken leg behind me. Step by painful step, I crawled back to Cynthia's side. I pressed my body against the wound in her chest, trying to stop the bleeding. Cynthia's breathing was so faint I could barely feel it. "Puff. "Time's up." I raised my head and looked out the window. The moon had turned an eerie blood-red. "Arthur, from this day forward, you and I owe each other nothing."