A Short Awakening

  Themis’s POV

  This can’t be all I’m capable of. I can’t protect them like this.

  Heathcliff. Shilol. Everyone…

  “I need more power. I need to protect them. I… I don’t want to lose anyone anymore,” he whispered, pain and desperation twisting in his chest.

  “If gods or spirits truly exist, I beg you—please, hear my prayer!” His voice cracked, echoing through the chaos.

  Everything turned dark.

  Then—a voice. Gentle. Silvery.

  “Your heart resonated with the moon’s sorrow. Few can still hear our song.”

  “Themis…”

  His breath caught. “Who—who’s there?”

  “I am Luna, the Greater Spirit of the Moon.”

  “Luna?” He staggered, sword lowering. “What do you want from me?”

  “I hear your plea. I am here to help. You carry the spirit and the Arian royal bloodline within you. You have a destiny to fulfill beneath your star. I will lend you my power—until you awaken on your own.”

  A shimmering glow wrapped around him. The scent of night?blooming flowers filled the air. His blade pulsed with pale blue light.

  “You are my chosen one,” Luna whispered. “Now rise, my warrior who sings the lost song.”

  Themis’s lips moved before he realized he was speaking, the words flowing like a melody remembered from another life:

  “O Luna, guardian of the silver veil,

  Let your light pierce through shadow and despair.

  In your name, I awaken.

  By your grace, I rise.

  Moon and sword, as one—

  Let the tide of fate be rewritten!”

  With a cry, Themis surged forward. His sword blazed with radiant light. He struck the charging grizzly with a sweeping double slash. “Double Crescent Slash,” he breathed, cleaving through hide and bone. The beast roared and crashed to the earth.

  He slammed his sword into the ground. “By the moon’s grace—rise and shine! Moonlight Blessing!”

  A circle of moonlight burst outward, washing over the group. Lyria, Tristan, Trish, and Trieni gasped as strength flooded their limbs, fatigue melting away.

  They didn’t understand what was happening, but with renewed vigor they charged the second beast, confusion drowned by instinct.

  Lyria raised her shield high. “Warcry!” she shouted, her voice ringing like a battle horn. The grizzly turned toward her, enraged.

  Trish conjured a massive icicle and hurled it into the beast’s flank. Tristan darted forward, blades flashing in a blur of silver. Trieni drew an arrow glowing with pure light, its shape forming a radiant cross before she loosed it—striking the creature square between the eyes.

  Lyria ended it. She spun, shield gleaming, and slammed it into the bear’s skull with a thunderous bash. The beast toppled, the ground trembling beneath its fall.

  Silence fell.

  Themis dropped to his knees, then collapsed, unconscious. The light faded. The circle vanished.

  They rushed to him.

  “Themis!” Lyria knelt, pressing her fingers to his neck. “He’s alive… just unconscious,” she said, exhaling in relief.

  Tristan crouched beside her, bewildered. “What was that? Where did all that power come from?”

  Trish stood motionless, her gaze fixed on Themis. “It came from him,” she said softly. “I felt it. It wasn’t just magic… it was like a spirit lent him strength.”

  Tristan frowned. “But the spirits vanished long ago, didn’t they?”

  Then Trieni gasped. “His hand—look.”

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  They stared as a crescent?shaped mark glowed faintly on the back of Themis’s hand—pale silver, like reflected moonlight. The glow flickered… then faded, vanishing as if it had never been.

  Lyria’s eyes widened. She reached toward his hand but stopped herself. “A spirit’s mark?” she whispered. “Does this mean the Arcanian legends are true? That those who borrow the spirits’ power still exist? Are the spirits… returning?”

  Silence settled over them.

  The clouds parted briefly, and moonlight spilled down upon Themis. It lingered—still, silent, watching.

  “What… does this mean?” Trieni asked, her voice barely a breath.

  No one answered.

  The fire crackled softly as Trish knelt beside Themis, gently dabbing his forehead with a damp cloth. Her face was pale with worry.

  Then, at last, he stirred.

  His eyelids fluttered open, and Trish gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. “Thank the spirits… you’re awake,” she whispered, voice trembling.

  The rest of the group rushed over, their faces bright with relief.

  “You okay?”

  “Does anything hurt?”

  “Want food? You’ve gotta be starving!”

  Themis blinked at them, groggy and dazed. “Grizzlies…” he muttered. “Where are they? Did they run away? Are you all alright?”

  The group fell into a sudden, confused silence.

  “They’re gone,” Lyria said gently, crouching beside him. “But… don’t you remember what happened?”

  Themis shook his head slowly. “All I remember is… I was at my limit. I saw all of you struggling, and I wished—more than anything—to protect you. Then… it’s just black.”

  Trieni leaned closer, eyes wide. “You really don’t remember shining? You cut one grizzly down with two slashes, then created this glowing circle of light that gave us all strength. It was like… something divine.”

  Themis stared at her. “No. That’s… I don’t remember nor do I have that kind of power.”

  “But it came from you,” Trish insisted, her voice still hushed with awe.

  “I swear I don’t know how,” Themis said, frowning. “I don’t remember anything after raising my sword. I feel like I blacked out.”

  The camp fell quiet, unease stirring among them.

  Finally, Tristan broke the tension. “Maybe eat something first. You look like a stiff breeze would knock you over.” He handed Themis a bowl. “Here. Soup and meat.”

  Themis took the bowl with a grateful nod and a weak smile. After one sip, he sighed in relief. “This is… actually amazing. Where’d you get the meat?”

  Tristan grinned. “Grizzlies.”

  Themis froze, mid?bite. “You’re kidding.”

  Trieni laughed. “It’s safe. After you summoned that light, the miasma in the valley vanished. Even the grizzlies were purified—like they’d just returned to their original form.”

  “I’m still not sure I believe that,” Themis muttered, eyeing the meat suspiciously—but he ate anyway.

  After a moment, Trish’s voice cut through the quiet again. “Themis… that power. Are you sure it wasn’t yours?”

  He looked at her solemnly. “If it was, I don’t know how to use it. I’m as confused as you are.”

  A thoughtful silence followed.

  “Maybe Priestess Seraphina will know something,” Themis offered. “She’s wise—if anyone can explain this, it’s her.”

  Lyria nodded. “Then we head for the Tower of Wind. Even I can’t explain it, but I have a feeling this is only the beginning. Not tonight, though. Rest comes first.”

  One by one, the group settled around the fire. Themis lay back, still uncertain, eyes fixed on the stars above. Somewhere in the back of his mind… he thought he heard a whisper.

  Soft. Familiar.

  “Soon… you will understand,” the voice echoed, like moonlight fading over water.

  The others quieted down, sleep pulling at their limbs. Themis had finally dozed off again, breathing steady, a blanket drawn up to his chin.

  Trieni sat a little apart from the group, still clutching her bow, eyes fixed on the dying embers of the fire.

  Tristan approached, carrying a spare cloak. “You’re shivering,” he said, holding it out.

  “I’m not cold,” she replied, but didn’t stop him when he draped it over her shoulders.

  He sat beside her in silence for a few moments, their only company the chirping of crickets and the soft crackle of wood.

  “You were amazing out there,” he said finally. “That shot to the grizzly’s head… I don’t think I’ve ever seen you that focused.”

  Trieni offered a faint smile, then looked back at the fire. “It was scary. I thought we were going to die.”

  Tristan nodded. “Me too.”

  She hesitated. “When you grabbed my arm… back in the woods… I didn’t realize how scared I was until then.”

  “I wasn’t sure if we’d make it back,” he admitted, voice low. “But I wasn’t going to let anything happen to you.”

  She turned to him, brows raised.

  “You’d have done the same,” he added quickly, awkwardly.

  Trieni smiled again, this time more genuinely. “Of course I would.”

  Their eyes met. Something unspoken hung between them—warmth, familiarity, maybe even something fragile and new.

  But then Trieni looked away, brushing a stray leaf from her sleeve. “Let’s not make a habit of running into miasma?mutated bears.”

  “Agreed,” Tristan chuckled. “Next time, rabbits. Peaceful, fluffy rabbits.”

  She elbowed him lightly. “You’d probably find a way to provoke them too.”

  He grinned. “Only if they look at me funny.”

  Their quiet laughter faded into the soft hush of the valley, and for a moment, all felt peaceful again.