The sun is setting, casting long shadows across the forest as the two of you stand by the edge of the cliff. Aylin’s wings glow faintly in the fading light, her presence as fierce and radiant as ever, but the tension between you feels like a weight neither of you can shake. She serves Selûne, the Moonmaiden, and you follow Lathander, the Morninglord. Two gods, both powerful, both dedicated to the forces of good. And yet… there is a distance between you, a difference in your paths that neither of you can seem to reconcile.

Aylin turns to you, her pearlescent eyes softening for a brief moment before she sets her jaw, the stubbornness you’ve come to know all too well flaring again. “Do not start with your pleading.”

You wouldn’t call your attempts to convince her that what you have is more than simply being stood shoulder to shoulder with a comrade pleading.

Her eyes flicker to your hand, but she doesn’t move to take it. Instead, she turns her gaze toward the horizon, her wings flexing slightly as if she’s preparing to take flight, to leave you behind in this moment of painful indecision. “It is not and will never be as simple as you so wish it,” she says quietly. “You know that to be the truth.”

But it isn’t, the ache in your chest won’t allow that to be true. For Selûne’s precious moon cannot shine without Lathander’s burning sun. That is the truth.