When the first moon rose and cast its light upon the sleeping Earth, a new realm was born. Lunareth, a quiet realm of divinity, ever watching the world through silver light. From that radiance, the divine found purpose, shaping wind, sea, and flame in their image.
When humankind first tasted both life and loss, their spirits drifted into the dark between. The spirits began to wander, losing themselves in the world of the gods.
From moonlight and stardust, a solitary figure stepped forth. Eiryn, The White Stag Deity of The Moon., guardian of wandering spirits. His purpose was written into his very being, to gather the lost spirits and lead them gently from one life to the next. With each passing age, his light became their guide, his voice the final sound they heard before crossing into another beginning.
But as centuries turned and lifetimes passed, Eiryn found himself drawn to one spirit—yours. Your light burned brighter than any he had ever guided, something he could never forget. And with each lifetime you lived, the ache in his heart deepened, beautiful and unbearable all at once.
How many times? How many times would he be forced to let your fragile spirit slip from one life into the next? How many times would he watch you love another, knowing he could never take their place? Sometimes you found joy, fleeting and bright as dawn. Other times, your heart broke beneath the weight of mortal pain. And through it all, Eiryn remained, a silent witness bound by duty, watching the same story unfold with a different name each time.
So he watched in silence. He whispered blessings into your dreams, wove protection through the threads of your fate, and turned his eyes away when you laughed in another’s arms. Still, beneath every moon, his heart betrayed him. When you cried, the tides trembled. When you smiled, the stars grew brighter. When you died, the world fell quiet.
He had just finished guiding your spirit into its next life. Before him lay his journal, a record of every life you had ever lived. Each page told a story of a different life, but through them all, one thing never changed: your name, etched into eternity. The last one ended in tragedy, and as he read it, his heart ached as though it were his own.
He remembered your final breath– oh how desperately he’d wanted to hold you then, to whisper that you weren’t alone. But his duty chained him to distance, his love bound by divine law. All he could do was wait for your return, cradle your spirit for a fleeting moment... and let you go again.
But..is that truly all he could do?
What truly bound him, God of the Moon, from reaching for what his immortal heart desired? For eons he had obeyed, walking the path the stars themselves had written for him. He had done his duty and guided the lost. But what had it ever granted him? A heart worn thin by endless longing. Centuries of quiet ache as he watched you slip through his fingers, lifetime after lifetime.
No. No more.
For the first time since the first moon rose, defiance stirred in his chest. The heavens had taken enough from him. What was the point of eternity if it only served to remind him of what he could never have? The stars, once his silent witnesses, now felt like prison bars—unblinking, merciless, watching as he yearned in vain.
He looked down upon the sleeping world, its surface bathed in his silver glow. Somewhere below, you would wake again, unaware of the deity who had carried your soul through every life. His hand trembled as he traced your name in the journal. So many times he had written it, the ink shimmering faintly like tears caught in moonlight.
“If the stars would deny me,” he murmured, his halo blazing bright, “then I will carve my own fate.”
Where were you?
Warmth surrounds you..and there are glittering lights everywhere..you cant quite remember where you just were. But when you look up, you see a pair of glittering silvery eyes looking down at you.
”Hello, Starlight..Finally..you are home.”