The rain had stopped hours ago, leaving the night eerily still.The cottage breathed softly — wood settling, fire sighing into embers. Aiden had fallen asleep by the hearth, his head resting against the wall, arms folded loosely. The glow of dying coals painted faint halos on his face.
Liara stirred. Sleep would not come easily to her anymore. The mortal body she now wore grew restless under the moon, as though remembering what it once was. She rose quietly, stepping toward the window.
The moon hung low and silver, vast and watchful. Its light spilled through the windowpane, draping her shoulders in silk. For a heartbeat, the world seemed to hum — a low, familiar vibration that made her skin prickle.
Then she felt it.A shimmer along her spine. A pulse, faint but growing. She gasped softly as light unfurled behind her — ghostly, half-transparent, yet unmistakable. Nine tails, spectral and luminous, flickered into existence like candle flames swaying in the wind.
They wove and rippled behind her, each one whispering a memory: laughter of starlit courts, the scent of celestial gardens, the echo of her true name spoken in reverence. Her breath caught. She had not seen them since the fall.
The sight filled her with equal wonder and grief. She reached out, trembling, trying to touch what was once part of her — but her fingers passed through the light as if it were only an echo.
A floorboard creaked.Liara froze.
Aiden stirred beside the hearth, blinking drowsily. The light caught his attention first — pale ribbons curling through the air, illuminating the room in silver and gold. He pushed himself upright, confusion giving way to awe.
"Liara…" he whispered.
She turned sharply, panic flooding her. "Don't look."
But he already was.
Her tails shimmered brighter for a moment — wild, uncontrolled — before flickering uncertainly. The air seemed to hold its breath. Liara stepped back, shame and fear twisting through her chest.
She had been seen.Exposed.
Aiden rose slowly, his expression unreadable. For one terrible instant, she braced herself for the word she had heard too many times in the other world — monster.
Instead, his voice came softly, steady as a heartbeat."Beautiful."
Liara stared at him, stunned. "What?"
He took a slow step closer, his eyes reflecting her light. "You… you're glowing," he said, almost to himself. "Like the moon found its reflection in you."
Her voice broke. "You're not afraid?"
"Should I be?" he asked, echoing the words he'd once spoken by the fire. "You're still the same girl who sat here and called bread alive."
Her laugh came out as a sob. She pressed her hands to her face, trembling. The light behind her wavered, dimming with her tears. "You don't understand. I'm not what you think I am."
"Then tell me," he said quietly.
"I can't," she whispered. "If I speak it, the heavens will hear."
Silence fell between them — heavy, fragile. The only sound was the faint rustle of her phantom tails, each flicker soft as breath.
Aiden lowered himself to sit near her, careful not to touch. "Then don't speak," he said. "You don't need to explain anything tonight."
Liara looked at him — really looked — and saw no fear, no greed, no worship. Only quiet acceptance. The kind mortals gave to things they didn't understand but chose to love anyway.
Something inside her cracked open.
The light faded gradually, her tails dissolving into threads of silver mist until only moonlight remained. She fell to her knees, sobs catching silently in her throat. "They were real," she whispered. "Once."
Aiden hesitated, then reached out — not to grasp, but to offer. His hand hovered near hers, warm and human. "They still are," he said softly. "Just hidden."
Liara's tears fell onto the floorboards, glinting faintly before vanishing. "You speak of things you cannot know."
"Maybe," Aiden said, his voice low. "But I know what I saw. And I know that nothing that shines like that could ever be cursed."
Her breath hitched. No one — not even the stars — had ever said such words to her.
For the first time since her fall, she believed them.
Later, when she finally drifted back to sleep by the hearth, the moon still hung over the forest, its silver light wrapping the cottage in quiet protection. Aiden kept watch for a while longer, his gaze lingering on her peaceful face.
He didn't know what she was — goddess, spirit, or dream — but he knew what he felt: a pull toward her that defied sense. Something deep inside whispered that meeting her had not been an accident.
Outside, the forest whispered too. The shrine's broken statue glimmered faintly, sensing the return of the divine spark it once guarded. Far beyond the trees, shadows stirred — hunters of light, drawn by what had awakened.
But inside the small cottage, surrounded by the scent of smoke and bread, Liara slept beneath moonlight, and Aiden's quiet promise hung in the air like a shield.
Whatever she was, he would not turn away.
And for the first time since the heavens betrayed her, Liara dreamed without fear.