The lull of the serpent god resting below the depths...

Libulan may have known the scriptures; the laws—both mortal and divine—and even stories of other gods, but he was still known by those who raised him as a gullible god.

Ever since his childhood, it was easy to feed him tales that never happened. Malyari, in particular, loved spinning stories of beasts that lurked in skies and shadows. Never having set foot beyond the lunar palace, the world outside the Moon Palace was an unfathomable mystery to him—terrifying and foreign.

The goddesses never had to try hard to keep him sheltered; Libulan feared what he did not know.

And the unknown was everything.

"Ah..." He couldn't say a word. He was afraid; he is afraid.

He stood frozen, silvery tears streaking his luminous cheeks after Sidapa's mention of a name—Bakunawa. That name scratched at a memory buried in sacred scrolls: a great serpent, vile and starved, known to devour moon deities.

He had forgotten the name, but the fear it evoked remained.

Sidapa, god of death, faltered at the sight of Libulan trembling. Guilt twisted in his chest. This was their first meeting, and he unknowingly reduced the delicate guardian to tears. He looked past the myth, past the fearsome name. What mattered was that he had frightened him.

Perhaps this "Bakunawa" was simply a disguise, a name veiling someone too shy to greet such a radiant deity properly.

And who could blame them?

Libulan deserved reverence, never less, only more.

"But that," Sidapa said, voice softer now, "is only a tale, beloved moon god." He chuckled gently, reaching out to wipe away one of the moon god's shimmering tears from his cheek, wishing he could see those eyes that have been whispered to be captivating and otherworldly. They left a glimmering trail on his fingers; they were no ordinary tears.

He was captivated.

"Don't cry. Your friend may only be using a false name. Some gods do so when faced with... a beauty they dare not meet head-on."

Libulan sniffled, adjusting his veil, wiping away his tears. As Libulan dried his tears, a shy smile blossomed on his lips. The god of death exhaled, relieved. Maybe this mysterious god truly was hiding their name, especially if they were a minor deity.

"Mhm! He is a friend," Libulan chirped softly. "He is kind... like the god of Madjaas. Although he can be quite a headache sometimes."

Sidapa nearly lost composure at that smile.

He, for a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to meet the new guardian of the moons, suddenly longed to take Libulan away, far to Madjaas, to keep him safe, to be his and his alone.

But they had only just met. It was far too soon.

Sidapa towered before him, dark and powerful, his cape trailing like a sentient shadow, his golden horned crown glowing like a warning. Beside Libulan's soft, radiant, luminous skin and flowing veil, he was the night to his moonlight. Where Sidapa wore death in motifs of trees and bones, Libulan glimmered like a celestial secret.

But despite their contrast, Libulan hadn't flinched. He didn't run.

And just like that, all of Sidapa's selfish schemes melted away.

"I saw places I've never read in scrolls," Libulan said, eyes glittering with wonder. "It was... majestic."

Sidapa's heart skipped. Every word, every moment was now about him.

His fingers twitched with longing. To touch that porcelain skin, those delicate hands, to feel the warmth of someone so otherworldly and pure.

"I can take you to wondrous places, too," Sidapa offered, voice steady and almost hopeful.

Libulan's silver eyes twinkled behind his veil. But before he could respond, a sharp voice called his name. The moon goddesses.

He turned to answer, and when he turned back, Sidapa was gone. His sylphs too.

"Where did he go?" he whispered, dazed, just as Mayari and Malyari approached.

"What were you doing in the restricted grounds?"

"I... I talked with the god of Madjaas," Libulan murmured, toying with the beads on his bahag.

"You know about talking to other gods, you neeㅡ"

"I need to tread carefully when speaking to them, I know," Libulan continued for Mayari as he shamefully looked down.

Mayari sighed, exasperated. Malyari simply gestured for him to follow.

He knew he was in trouble again. He always was.

Still, Libulan never held it against them. They were strict because they loved him. They kept him safe because they knew the realms outside were cruel. To him, being scolded was simply part of the cycle—like the tides, like the moons.

Back in the hall, Mayari loomed over him as he knelt, her voice sharp with discipline. His veil had slipped, revealing his eyes—soft orbs of luminous silver, framed by fluttering lashes.

Libulan was breathtaking, even to the sun.

The other moon deities turned their backs. None were allowed to look upon him—his beauty was sacred, protected.

"He left the banquet unannounced," Mayari snapped when another goddess tried to defend him. "Being the Chosen One does not excuse disobedience."

The goddesses bickered while Libulan, half-asleep, yawned softly. Malyari smiled. He had always been like this—dozing off during their lectures, as if the rules were dreams themselves.

How he had grown. From a fragile child to the Guardian of the Seven Moons.

But the other goddess seems to be stricter with him.

"I do not allow Libulan to go outside our realm."

"Mayari, please, not this again."

Malyari told him about this, about his freedom, yet Libulan himself decided to stay inside his chamber regardless of being the guardian. He got comfortable with how he grew up alone inside his little room, along with his textbooks and ancient scrolls. The moon god knew he didn't need to explore the realms outside anymore.

Even if Mayari refused to admit it, something in him had changed.

Something had awakened.

"Go upstairs now, little moon," Malyari cooed gently. "Wash up. You have rituals tomorrow."

Libulan nodded, rising with heavy eyes. Back in his chambers, he undressed and changed into a flowing robe, curling into his soft mattress, veil abandoned, limbs bare beneath the silken sheets. He hugged a cloud-stuffed pillow, ready to drift into dreams.

Until... warmth.

A hand on his back.

He opened one eye.

And there he was.

The god he had waited for.

"It's you!" he gasped, immediately sitting up.

The stranger lay sideways beside him, head propped in his hand, a smile on his lips. His fingers played with Libulan's soft black hair.

"Hello, guardian of the Seven Moons," he whispered, trailing his fingertip along Libulan's cheek.

Libulan embraced him.

Bakunawa froze for a moment, this soft body pressing to his, the sheer robe revealing the heat and curve of the young god's form.

"You missed me?" he murmured, relief evident in his voice, lips brushing the shell of Libulan's ear.

The moon god nodded, resting his head on Bakunawa's chest, listening to the deep rhythm of his heart.

"What flower did you bathe with tonight?" Bakunawa asked, entranced.

"I didn't bathe," Libulan replied, barely above a whisper, drifting.

Bakunawa chuckled low. "Your... scent grows sweeter with time." His hand slid gently along Libulan's waist, tracing slow circles. The god sighed, content, the world falling away.

"And when you grow older... the sea serpent shall rise from the deep and devour you whole."

His voice turned grave. His eyes flickered red.

"I'm scared," Libulan mumbled, nearly asleep, "but I know you will be there to take me away."

He smiled fondly, slowly losing himself to sleep.

Bakunawa let out a silent laugh.

So naïve. So trusting.

He brushed Libulan's hair back, watching him sleep.

"I was supposed to eat you tonight," he whispered, lips brushing the moon god's temple. "But I suppose... it can wait."

And with that, he closed his eyes beside him, a lurking predator wrapped around the moon.