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“Well, will you look at that,” Cordelia mused. “It actually worked.”

Araxis grimaced and shook his head. “I told you it would.”

Something was very, very wrong with whatever the fuck just happened.

“Araxis,” Brand whispered. “What did you do?”

Cordelia gave the slightest nod, and Araxis dragged the back of his hand across his brow, loosing an explosive sigh.

“What we had to, to keep her free,” he rasped, eyes fixed on Luna, “so she might be able to save us someday.”

Up, up, up she went, winding ever higher.

Time to take up her bright place in the sky. Again, and again. The purpose of her life.

Maybe a day would come when she finally understood it.

Galaxies opened and exploded above her, combating the heavy weight of the jet black night between them. A night that loomed differently, now. More menacing than she recalled.

It slicked over her skin as if it was here and waiting, teasing and tempting. Luring.

She rejected its enticing whispers and took her rightful place, feeling through rock and earth and water to the molten center of the world. To the souls who created it, still there sleeping.

It was her who shook the fabric of everything, calling that energy to herself and connecting it to the loyal moons above. Their perfect conduit, immaculately rendered for this moment.

Fall and thunder, as promised, melting away all she thought she was.

The light blinded and burned but held her weightless body in a mother’s embrace. Even as it tore her apart, it landed gently. Kindly. Like each individual particle in her body had been waiting for the chaos and welcomed it. Like they were created specifically in order to be transformed into something better. Stronger.

Except…

Somewhere in the fire was a pinprick of shadow. A seed that darted in and out of view displeased, desperate to get to her. To plant itself into her body so it might grow and fester and make her its own.

It didn’t like the light or who made it, and she was the piece it was missing.

No matter how she tried, there was no such thing as keeping her eye on it. No possibility of her avoiding its stain.

“Shh, dearest one. Do not be afraid. We will protect you. We have made sure of it.”

The voices that sang to her were the ones from before. The ones who filled her with their ancient chorus and burned away the beast.

They hissed at that thought, their hatred undiminished though he was gone.

“Not yet, beloved. But he will be, soon enough.”

From nowhere, the shadow slammed into her, right where Illamiata rested, and all went dark and leaden.

Lunara blinked awake, not at all surprised when she found herself on a grassy lawn in the Upper Block, a pavilion and park stretching out in front of her.

“Hello, moth.”

That did surprise her.

Endellion lounged to one side, feet crossed at the ankles, arms supporting her lean. Against all odds, the Oracle was even more stunning in the Evesong, her starry light stark against its darkness.

Her silver curls twined in every direction. So much of it, so long. Like the endless train of a ceremonial gown. It framed her face perfectly, highlighting the glow of her violet eyes, and only making way for the spread of her massive, feathered wings.

“You’re even more beautiful than I remember,” Lunara said, unable to help the words.