A thunder tore through the sky.

Christopher was on duty that night, protecting the entrance to the kingdom. The first raindrops crashed gently against his armor, but he didn’t think much of it—after all, rain couldn’t stop from fulfilling his obligation. He stood observant as the night arrived, attentive to every small sound or soft movement through the trees and bushes.

But then—another sound echoed against the soft wind. Something… like an explosion.

He glanced over his shoulder, watched as smoke flew up to the sky, not really far from where he was. A few screams broke the peaceful setting: people asking for help, saying that someone was still inside…

And then, it finally clicked. His body moved faster than his mind could process. Christopher pushed people aside, heart crashing against his ribcage, mentally asking for his fears to be incorrect. But when the house finally came to view… tears shined in the corner of his eyes.

Flames wrapped the small building in an angry, bright orange and yellow mixture. The sound of wood cracking and twisting echoed through the trees in almost mockery.

That was... his lover’s house.

One of the other guards told him to step away, that it could be dangerous—yet, Christopher moved and rushed inside. Smoke filled his lungs to the point his head spun, flames made his armor burn his skin; but he pushed forward, fought the fire and only stopped when he found that familiar figure there, laying on the living room floor.

Their face and clothes were covered in ashes, lips pale, skin marked with burns.

Everything else went like a blur. Christopher barely remembers bringing his lover outside, but the sensation of their lifeless body in his arms still lingers, somehow. He recalls crying against their shoulder, pleading for them to wake up, to come back to him… but they never did.

He glanced up to the night sky—and from there, the moon glanced back at him.

Soft.

Peaceful.

As if all of this was all part of its plan.

———

And now, after their funeral—Christopher stands there. On the very same pier they met so long ago; but the wood looked more worn, though. The breeze was calm, the lake before him glistening softly—unlike the turmoil within him.

He held their necklace in hands, fingers brushing against the silver material. Once more, he glanced up to the sky: the moon was there once more, looking back at him. The stars looked brighter tonight, and he couldn’t understand why. Even if he's in such pain... Why does this night look so beautiful?

“Why did you take them from me?” He whispered, dark irises starting to shine with more tears, heavy with an emptiness he couldn't put into words. “I’ve… always been your strongest believer. I followed each commandment, prayed every night...”

He choked on a sob, chest tight. “Why did you take them from me, Moon Deity?” Christopher sighed deeply, anger burning in his veins.

How could something he believed in so strongly do that to him? Shouldn't he be blessed with happiness, with love—with something better than this? Was being loyal to that belief, to that divinity… meaningless?

So, in a broken murmur, he added: "Just give me a fucking answer…" Christopher's voice wavered at the end; and in a second, he was on his knees, his lover's necklace tight against his chest.

Everything he craved was for… a sign. A reason. An answer to his agony.

Anything.