The Moon’s Chosen
"We greet our lord—our Goddess’s chosen one.
Our Goddess’s future husband."
Leon’s blood turned cold.
His mind went blank.
"...What." His voice shattered; eyes wide. "What did you just say?"
The three won stayed on their knees, heads bowed so low they almost touched the floor, unshaken in their belief.
"I." Leon scanned the creepy ruins, the moonlight creating long shadows, fueling his confusion. "What the hell is going on?
His voice wasn’t angry—lost. Dazed. Like soone had been plunked in the middle of sobody else’s tale.
Cynthia slowly lifted her head. Her dark eyes locked into his, glinting—not with fear or madness, but reverence, raw and absolute. A quiet power emanated from her, her voice hardly louder than a whisper, and yet crystal clear.
My lord," she told him, "you are the one we have waited for. The one we’ve searched for across lifetis. You are the reason we exist... the reason we endured."
She put a hand gently against her chest. "All that we’ve done... was to find you."
Leon blinked slowly, a cold, strange breath filling his lungs. He couldn’t grasp the weight of her words—lifetis? Endure? The words were like poetry... or madness.
His gaze swiveled between them—Cynthia, still kneeling, and Kyra and Syra also on their knees still frozen beside her, heads bent, faces inscrutable.
Was this worship? Devotion? Insanity?
He let out a breath, running a hand through his hair. "Okay... just—just stop. Seriously."
He gestured, more tired than authoritative. "First of all, stand up. All of you. I can’t think with you like that."
For a stretch of ti, they didn’t stir.
Then, slowly, all three won stood up in flawless synchrony. Silent. Quiet. And still regarding him like he was sothing much more than rely a man.
Leon froze, between the urge to escape from this predicant and the overwhelming desire to comprehend.
Cynthia, Kyra, and Syra stood at once, their movent almost fervent. The change was striking—barely seconds before, there had been wariness and hostility between them. Now, their eyes blazed with an intense fervor that bristled Leon’s skin, a raw unease churning in his breast.
"Priestess Cynthia. tell all." His eyebrows furrowed. "You told you were looking for ? That all that happened to you happened because of you? What exactly does that have to do with anything? Just tell plainly, as you can." Cynthia moved forward and put a hand on her chest. "Yes, my lord. I shall tell you everything."
She breathed slowly, as if steadying her soul. "We are the Moon Goddess’s followers, Selena. Our goddess order has lived in secret for centuries—concealed, guarded, bound to silence."
Leon nodded barely. "I already know that part. Just... explain what your words were saying. Why all this?"
Cynthia moved closer, speaking in a low and steady tone, a breath of truth spun in each word.
"We lived in secret ... because our goddess commanded us."
She gazed upward at the sky filled with moonlight. "When she disappeared, our goddess left our ancestors with a prophecy," she started, her tone humble and low. "Of a man who would one day wake her and unlock her from her burden. Her chosen one. Her destined companion."
Leon’s chest constricted, confusion and discomfort churning in his head. His voice was low, tinged with suspicion.
"Wake her up? Or open her up?"
Yes," Cynthia’s eyes locked with his, steady and firm. "Let us say... Let us say... she sleeps," Cynthia said slowly, as if each word bore the burden of millennia. "A deep, eternal sleep." She hesitated, her face relaxing a little. "But only one man can awaken her from that sleep. One soul, tied to the divine artifact of hers. The Chakra. And that soul.
She stepped forward slowly, nearer to him now, her voice reduced to a whisper, but not a question in her words—no hesitation.
"...is yours."
Leon’s face closed, unyielding.
This is like a damn cult prophecy from a fantasy book.
This is crazy," Leon whispered, his tone heavy with skepticism. "So, explain to —how did you know this was the ti for your prophecy? How did you know I was the person you had been waiting for?" He blinked, a flood of confusion threatening to engulf him, the combination of fear and interest churning in his stomach. "How can you be so sure?
Cynthia raised her hand and pointed to the sky. The twin moons in the sky had almost combined into one, shrouded in an ethereal aura of light.
"The prophecy ntioned signs. When the twin moons are in alignnt and the stars glimr like breath on water... he will co. That alignnt recurs every thousand years.
"And tonight, the positioning of the stars. it arrived. Just as you did too, in the correct place, at the correct mont." Cynthia’s tone was even, but the words pierced Leon to the core, like a reverberation traveling through his own soul.
His throat felt parched, his chest constricting as the gravity of her words weighed down upon him. "You’re saying. all of this—the relic, the timing, —was predetermined?"
"Yes," Cynthia answered, unflinching. "And the last sign was the Chakra—the Goddess Artifact of Balance of our goddess. It responded to you. It selected you."
Cynthia nodded; her eyes unflinching. "That was the last sign. You are the one the prophecy referred to—the one who is to awaken her. is you."
Leon opened his mouth... then shut it again.
He rembered it clearly now—the strange tug that had pulled him here. That heartbeat of power. The mont he stood beneath the chakra and it rushed into him like lightning. The weight, the silence, and the whisper of sothing ancient binding itself to his soul.
It’s inside now... connected to .
His breath ca slow, uncertain.
"...You really believe I’m the one?" he asked quietly.
Cynthia nodded once.
"We don’t believe, my lord. We know."
Leon’s mouth opened, then closed again, the gravity of his thoughts bearing down upon him. He couldn’t rid himself of the feeling of the chakra surging into him, its energy now seared deep into his body.
[Ding!]
[Host has gained forbidden knowledge from an outside source.]
The chanical voice resonated in his head, allaying all he knew was bad and yet true. He was embroiled in sothing way beyond his comprehension, entangled in the web of destiny he had never asked for.
He looked over at Cynthia, the anger churning in his chest congealing into an icy determination. Just accept what’s going on for now, he instructed himself, trying to concentrate. He didn’t have ti for questions. He wanted answers.
"Why here? Why this location—Silver City?" he demanded, his tone controlled even though everything inside him seethed.
Cynthia smiled weakly, a hint of knowledge in her eyes. "Most don’t know, this town was nad sothing else before it beca Silver City, this town na: Selena City. It was the center of her worship."
Leon’s forehead creased in puzzlent. "Selena City?"
Cynthia’s face beca serious. "Yes, Selena City. Long, long ago, it was burned down in one night. The citizens of the Moonstone Kingdom only know that much.". But the fact is, when our goddess disappeared, the citizens of this city. they fled. Your ancestors—Moonwalkers—were the ones who stayed behind. your ancestors—the Moonwalkers—were among those who stayed. The Duke of Selena City back then is a devoted and true believer in the goddess, couldn’t accept to leave behind the soil that she once traversed. Therefore, he constructed the city again, and it was nad in her na—Silver, just like the brightness of her glow.
Leon’s eyes went wide as yet another bit of forbidden knowledge fell into his mind. His cultivation was too low to fully appreciate the magnitude of it, but it felt. deep. He had never known anything about this goddess or the ancient Selena City. The mories he took from the previous Leon were pieceal, just a series of fleeting images of a long-lost family, a line of Moonwalkers who had once worshipped here.
Perhaps, he considered, with generations gone by, they made this all into a myth, a faraway story. sothing lost.
He once again surveys her with his passive skill—Eye of the Judge. No lie still not detected from her speech.
Leon spoke slowly, his voice firm in spite of the maelstrom of confusion in his head. "So why are you three alone here? Where is the rest of your tribe, or other believers of your goddess?"
Cynthia’s face clouded, her lips compressing with sorrow. "They’re no more," she whispered, looking away.
Leon’s heart contracted in shock. "How? What happened?"
Cynthia’s voice was filled with grief as she responded, "A disaster. Just as the prophecy foretold.".
Our goddess had predicted a disaster —one that would almost destroy us. Only a handful were to survive this disaster. One month back, of today of start allignts. that was the start of disaster. My grandfather, my parents, Syra and Kyra’s parents. they gave their lives so that we could flee. We are the remnants of the tribe now—survivors who were to complete our goddess’s task."
Leon’s heart moved. Their loss was true—cut deep into their eyes.
He looked between Cynthia, Kyra, and Syra, attempting to understand it all. "But. why just the three of you? Why not more of you?"
Cynthia tilted her chin a fraction, her eyes unblinking. "I am of the priestess lineage of our goddess. Kyra and Syra’s families were the protectors—protectors of our people.". Actually, In truth, five of us from my tribe escape and were ant to survive. Our other two companions, the rest of our tribe, stayed behind to ensure our safety." Her voice broke slightly at the last words, as if the weight of their loss had yet to fully settle.
Leon’s heart ached, his mind a mixed pot of grief for their loss and incredulity at their sacrifice. He gulped hard, still reeling.
He glanced up at the sky, the light of the moon now throwing long shadows over the remains. "So. tell , how do I unseal or awaken your goddess? How does this work?"
Cynthia hesitated; her brow creased. "That. we really don’t know."
Leon’s eyes went wide. "You what?" He spoke softly, half-suspecting, half-amazed.
Cynthia’s face reddened with embarrassnt, and she looked away for a brief instant. "Our goddess. she said her own chosen one would find the way himself. with his own will, with his own knowledge... and the Divine Artifact. Only you can unseal her.
Leon took a deep breath in shock, frustration eating at him. "So, you’re saying—you know about this entire prophecy, this entire mission—and you don’t even know how to unseal her?" He touched his hair in an attempt to calm himself down. "And this artifact you gave ? It’s not complete. You didn’t even realize that?"
Cynthia furrowed her brow. "Incomplete?
Leon nodded, his face set. "Yes. It’s unfinished. It’s like. it’s not whole. Like a puzzle with so pieces missing."
Kyra and Syra glanced at each other; confusion on their faces. Cynthia, also, looked shocked. "We. didn’t know that, my Lord," she said, her voice laced with true surprise.
Leon breathed a deep, exasperated sigh, his forehead rubbing his temples. "So, you gave this incredible, ancient relic. and had no idea it was in two pieces? You didn’t even think to look?"
Cynthia blinked in shock. Her mouth opened to say sothing, then closed once more.
"I... I don’t know," she whispered, stumbling over words. "My people never told anything about that. Even the sacred books don’t say anything.
Her eyes widened now, confusion and anxiety chasing behind them.
"But, my Lord... why do you think it’s unfinished?"
"I just... sensed it, this sword is unfinished" he hastily fibbed, not willing to show the system.
Cynthia appeared to believe his evasive response regarding the artifact, although Leon detected the brief hesitation in her gaze. He experienced a fleeting sense of guilt writhing in his chest, but suppressed it. The system—his greatest asset—was sothing he’d never share with anyone. Not in this world.
She bit her lip gently, then tilted her head in that soft, almost shy manner that made her seem far younger than her composed deanor allowed. "We... just follow the prophecy, my Lord. And as our goddess commanded—we exist only to serve you."
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