Chapter Text
It was the first day of the Tide Festival, and the Moon Saint was nowhere to be found in the temple; she had gone out to sin. Fallon was slipping through a tunnel beneath the cathedral that led to a discreet exit, hidden behind a row of ancient trees surrounding the eastern gate.
Her dirty, worn-out clothes, stolen from her older sister, emerged into the half-light. Nix's old shirt still carried the faint scent of freedom — salt, wind, and the life Fallon had never been allowed to taste. She took a deep breath, feeling a stab of freedom that made her heart race. There, in the shadow of the trees, she was not the Moon Saint. She was just a woman fleeing her chains, if only for a few hours.
She had received a note while in the temple orchard, delivered by a white snake with bright pink eyes. The creature carried a message on a piece of cloth tied to its body.
"Meet me at dawn, near the eastern gate. — D."
She read the words again, her heart accelerating. This was her sin, a risk… the only one she was willing to take.
There he was! The Saint's beloved, lying on a thick branch of an apple tree. From the waist down, he had the body of a serpent, a long tail of dark scales extending two meters. His dark hair fell over emerald-green eyes, sweeping over the saint's body, capturing every movement with the precision of a silent predator.
"I thought you wouldn't come," he said, smiling slightly upon seeing her.
"And I thought you were better at hiding, Draven," she tried to sound firm, but the smile that escaped revealed her happiness at seeing him.
The naga descended from the tree and slithered to the saint's feet. He took her hands with a gentleness so unexpected for someone of predatory appearance.
"How are you?"
She hesitated. On the way there, she had planned a brief, controlled response. But before him, the barriers dissolved, as always.
"I'm tired," the words escaped in a whisper. "Everything seems... bigger than me. Sometimes I dream of an herb shop in a port city. Wouldn't that be ridiculous? Nix would laugh if she saw me dreaming of herb shops—she's the one who actually knows which plants heal and which poison."
He was silent for a moment, but instead of answering, he gently pulled her into his arms. The gesture was firm yet comforting, as if the very act of holding her was enough to protect her from everything that haunted her. His long tail wrapped around her like a nest. There, with her head resting against her beloved's chest, the world faded away. For a few moments, there was only the sound of their hearts beating together, in a synchronicity that belonged solely to them.
"You don't have to carry this alone," he murmured against her hair.
"Sometimes I envy my sister," she pulled away slightly, her sad eyes gazing at the sea. "Sailing the ocean… Free! But my role... my duty... they will never let me go."
"Your sister is hated across the continent as the demon… is that what you want?"
His eyes held hers for a moment, as if the thought of her silent prison wounded him as much as it did her. Still, when he spoke, his voice was a firm whisper, full of truth.
"One day, my love. One day you will be free." Draven held her face gently, his eyes fixed on hers. A serene promise.
He had a poisonous smile, both fangs showing, reminding Fallon who Draven really was: a naga, more specifically a black mamba. Because of his sweetness, she often forgot how dangerous he could be, and because of that danger, she believed that perhaps, one day, she could be just Fallon, and not the Moon Saint.
She stared at Draven's mouth for another second. What would his lips taste like? If she kissed him… what would the Pope think? She, who was supposed to be pure, was at the edge of a forest dressed in her older sister's dirty clothes, her body pressed against a creature who didn't even have the right to enter the temple, envying a pirate hunted across half the world.
She felt the naga's lips against her cheek, the worried look adorning that gentle face, and for a brief moment, it seemed right... Until the distant sound of bells reminded her of the time: the first toll of the day.
"I have to go…"
"I know," Draven nodded, but refused to let go of the saint's hand. "If you need me, I'll be here. Always."
She smiled but didn't answer. With a last look, she disappeared back into the shadows, taking the same path she had come from.
Quickly, she got rid of the loose pants, trading them for the impeccable white habit, which cascaded in folds of pure fabric, from the delicately designed shoes to the translucent veil that seemed to float around her. Finally, she took off the worn-out, comfortable button-down shirt and exchanged it for a rigid whalebone corset that slowly suffocated her every morning.
Her silver hair was arranged in an elaborate bun formed by intricate metal rings, evoking the image of a full moon in its plenitude. The serene gaze and erect posture she adopted completed a figure that exuded elegance and an almost celestial perfection.
Upon returning to the temple, descending the tower, Fallon found the atmosphere even tenser than usual. The acolytes were gathered in murmurs in front of the great tower that supposedly protected her, and the Pope awaited her in the main hall, with an expression she couldn't decipher.
"Saint Fallon." He bowed his head respectfully. "We have received a message from the palace."
"From the palace?" She frowned.
The Pope extended a scroll sealed with the royal seal. She took the document with trembling hands, feeling the weight of everyone's attention around her.
"By order of His Majesty, the King of Spades, it is with great honor that we announce the union of the Second Prince, Duke Solon of Demir, and Saint Fallon, in a marriage that will symbolize peace and unity between the faith and the crown."
The words seemed to float before her eyes, hard to process.
"It is a great honor," said a bishop. "And a calling you cannot ignore."
Fallon swallowed dryly, feeling the weight of the paper in her hands. "Oh, great moon, mother of the tide and storms, calm my soul and save me…" Fallon prayed, to the only being who could listen to her without judgment in that room.
She knelt before the goddess's statue in the main hall, being seen favorably by everyone around her. She didn't answer, only nodded and left the room, her footsteps echoing through the empty corridors, faster and faster, until she began to run.
She stumbled at the door to her room, falling to the floor. For the first time in her life, she was grateful that the saint's tower could not be accessed by anyone, and that any and all meetings had to happen in the main hall. She cried aloud, met only by her own echo, and stared at the white marble walls in panic. Reality was closing in around her like invisible chains.
Fallon dragged herself to the small window that gave her a view of the sea; the moon was beginning to disappear in the sky.
"A marriage for the good of the kingdom," she thought, the words sounding hollow.
"Nix, wherever you are, come back. I need you here. The sea swallowed your trail years ago, but I need you to surface," she pleaded to the sea and begged the moon, knowing the cry was more than a lament: it was a call to action, to the only link remaining to a world outside her cage.