Penulis: Grace Prikasih – UKI
Moonlight touches storm-torn skies,
A silver hush meets thunder’s cries.
Two fates collide, both fierce, both bright—
A tempest born of storm and light.
Clear Sky And A Crescent Moon
I came to Solunar Hollow expecting nothing.
Another ceremonial visit. Another stiff speech about unity and tradition. Another round of bowing villagers and my father’s expectations weighing on the back of my skull.
The carriage wheels creaked to a stop. My guards straightened. The villagers whispered.
Routine. Predictable.
And then… I saw her.
Her hair swayed gently in the night breeze, and her expression — serene, kind, dedicated — struck him harder than any lightning he’d ever wielded.
I froze.
Actually froze.
One of my guards nearly bumped into me.
My heartbeat thundered painfully, embarrassingly loud in my chest.
She stood at the steps of the Moon Shrine, brushing stray leaves from the lanterns as the breeze played with her pale hair. The moon sigil of her priestess robes shimmered faintly under the morning sun. She hummed a soft tune—completely unaware that the world had paused around her.
Or at least, my world had.
“…Beautiful,” I breathed, quietly enough that no one should have heard.
Of course, General Riku heard. He always does.
“Your Highness?” he asked under his breath, following my gaze. Then he lifted a brow. “Ah. I see.”
“You see nothing,” I muttered, adjusting my cloak in the most inconspicuous way possible. (It was not inconspicuous.)
The villagers bowed as I approached, but I barely registered them. My eyes kept flicking back to her—this delicate priestess with a smile soft enough to silence a kingdom.
When she finally noticed me, she blinked like she wasn’t sure I was real.
Then she bowed. “Welcome to Solunar Hollow, Your Highness.”
Her voice was gentle. Clear. Calming.
I said something back—at least, I think I did. My mouth moved. Words probably came out. Riku later informed me I said, “Yes. Hello. Good.”
I want to believe he was exaggerating.
Lily tilted her head. “Did you… need anything, Your Highness?”
“No,” I said quickly. Too quickly. “I simply find the shrine… interesting.”
A lie. A very professional, royal lie.
She brightened as if I had just praised her life’s work. “Would you like to come inside? I can explain the rituals if you’d like.”
Inside. With her. Alone.
Stay calm, Kouji. Do not look too eager.
“…If it would not be a bother,” I managed, perfectly casual. Perfectly neutral.
Riku snorted behind me. I pretended not to hear.
Inside the shrine, moonlight filtered through carved windows, painting soft silver patterns across the floor. Lily walked with small, light steps—like she was carrying something fragile: the peace of this place, maybe. Or her own heart.
She pointed to the altar. “This shrine has served the Moon Goddess for centuries. My family has tended it for generations.”
I nodded, pretending to focus on the architecture.
I was not focusing on the architecture.
Every time she moved, I noticed.
Every time she smiled, something in my chest tightened.
Every time she looked up at me, I forgot how to breathe.
I kept my expression impassive—my training demanded it. I was the Crown Prince. Stoic. Composed. Unshakeable.
But one of the guards whispered (far too loudly):
“His Highness is staring again.”
“I’m observing,” I corrected sharply.
Lily blinked, confused. “Observing… what?”
You.
Everything.
“The… craftsmanship,” I lied again.
She nodded, accepting it with the honest innocence of someone who has never once suspected they might be adored.
As we walked through the shrine, she talked about moon blessings, village traditions, and the simplicity of her life. Every word held a warmth that tugged at the cold corners of my heart.
When she laughed at one point—soft, airy, like a bell—my guards exchanged looks.
General Riku murmured, “Down bad.”
I inhaled through my nose. “I am not down bad.”
Lily turned slightly. “Hmm? Did you say something, Your Highness?”
“No,” I said immediately. “Not a thing.”
She smiled again—bright, gentle, devastating.
And that was the moment I knew:
This visit would not be routine.
Nothing about this would be predictable.
And I… was in trouble.
Moonlight in Hiding, Storm in Denial
The palace walls feel tighter every day.
Every time Father mentions the engagement to Princess Arcelia of Virellium, I feel another invisible chain close around my throat. Arcelia is… fine. Perfectly regal, perfectly composed, perfectly compatible with everything I am supposed to be.
But we do not speak the same language of the heart.
We do not smile at the same things.
We do not see each other — not truly.
And worst of all, she seems to know it.
Yet duty is a beast with sharp teeth. If I stand still long enough, it will swallow me whole.
So I run.
More accurately, I “inspect the rural provinces for diplomatic purposes,” as the official reports say — but everyone in the palace has stopped pretending.
Every time I saddle my horse, the stable boys whisper:
“He’s going to see the priestess again.”
“He’s been going every week.”
“Gods above, His Highness is in love.”
I ignore them. Or try to.
But my path always leads to Solunar Hollow. Always to the shrine.
Always to her.
Lily.
Every visit chips at my resolve.
Her warmth softens the armor I’ve built my whole life.
Her voice steadies the storm inside me.
Her gentle smile—damn it—it ruins me.
And I hate that I don’t know why.
Am I truly in love with her?
Or is she just the one peaceful light in a life suffocating under royal duty?
I don’t understand my own heart, and that infuriates me.
One evening, after another suffocating meeting about my upcoming engagement ceremony, I find myself tightening my cloak and slipping out of the palace again.
Riku followed me silently for a while before finally asking:
“Running from the princess again?”
“It’s not running,” I snapped. “It’s… thinking.”
“Thinking on horseback,” he deadpanned. “At night. Toward one specific village. Where one specific priestess lives.”
I scowled at him. He did not stop smirking.
By the time we reached Solunar Hollow, the night sky shimmered with lanterns. Silver and pale blue lights swung gently from branches and rooftops—marking the start of the Moon Blessing Festival.
Villagers laughed, danced, and lit incense. Children ran with ribbons trailing behind them. The entire place felt alive with soft magic.
And in the center of it all was Lily.
She wore ceremonial robes embroidered with threads that caught the moonlight. Her hair was pinned with small white blossoms. She looked… unreal.
A breath escaped me before I could stop it.
Riku muttered, “Hopeless.”
I didn’t respond. Couldn’t.
Lily didn’t see me yet. She was preparing for the ceremonial dance—adjusting the candles, checking the altar, smoothing her robe. She looked focused, serene, so dedicated to the Moon Goddess it made my chest ache.
When she finally noticed me at the edge of the square, she waved, bright and earnest.
“Your Highness! You came again!”
Just those simple words warmed something inside me.
“I… needed to clear my thoughts,” I said, trying to sound casual. Indifferent. Brooding. Anything except completely enthralled.
She smiled with such sincerity that I had to look away for a moment.
“Then I hope the festival helps,” she said. “The moon blesses clarity and peace.”
If only it were that simple.
Music began to play—soft flutes, gentle drums, the kind of sound that seems to breathe with the night itself.
Lily stepped onto the ceremonial platform.
“I’ll be performing the dance of invocation,” she explained, cheeks lightly flushed. “It’s tradition.”
I nodded, though the world had gone strangely still.
And then she began to dance.
Light pooled around her feet.
At first, I thought it was the lantern glow. But no—this light was different. It shimmered like liquid moonlight, swirling around her steps, following her as she spun gracefully.
The villagers gasped softly.
“What… is that?” I whispered.
Riku’s expression shifted. “Magic. Old magic.”
Lily didn’t seem to notice. Her eyes were closed, her movements fluid, entranced by the ritual she had known her whole life.
And then—
A glimmer behind her.
A faint shape.
Something shifting in the air like translucent wings unfolding.
My heart lurched.
“Lily—?!”
She opened her eyes, breath catching.
Because she felt it.
Because she saw it.
Because in that moment, under the moonlight, the truth inside her blood finally woke.
Her draconic lineage stirred.
And I—
I realized that whatever was happening to her…
and whatever was happening to me…
Was no longer something I could ignore.
The Village Dance and the Dragon Prince
The storm breaks the moment Arcelia arrives at the palace.
Her carriage is gilded in silver and violet, escorted by battalions of Virellian knights. The entire court gathers to receive her. My father stands proud, satisfied, hopeful.
I stand beside him, feeling nothing but the slow constriction of a noose around my neck.
Arcelia steps forward—poised, tall, beautiful in that porcelain way royal portraits adore. She bows perfectly.
“My future consort,” she says formally, taking my hand.
Her touch is ice.
My hand doesn’t move to hold hers back.
Her eyes flicker—she notices.
Father notices.
The entire court notices.
That evening, during the reception feast, she sits beside me and speaks about alliance, trade routes, the merging of our temples’ authority.
I nod. I answer. I fulfill protocol.
But every word tastes like ash.
When she leans closer and whispers, “I expect our union to be harmonious, Your Highness,” something inside me fractures.
Because harmony is the last thing I feel.
Because peace does not exist here.
Because sitting in this hall, I feel more alone than ever.
So when the musicians begin their fourth ceremonial piece, I rise abruptly.
“Your Highness—?” Arcelia blinks, startled.
“I need air,” I say. “Excuse me.”
My father’s glare is a blade across the hall.
But I walk away anyway.
No—
I run.
Riku catches up with me only once we are at the palace gates.
“You’re going to her, aren’t you?” he asks.
I don’t answer.
He sighs. “Hopeless.”
We ride through the night, the moon hanging low, bright, as if urging me onward.
(In Solunar Hollow…)
When I arrive, it was at the peak of a festival. A ceremony happens once every blue moon where magic resonance are at its peak. Lanterns sway in pale blue arcs. Villagers laugh, drums echo, incense winds through the air like soft prayers.
And then I hear her.
Lily’s bells—soft chimes tied to her wrists for the ceremonial dance.
I push through the crowd instinctively, breath uneven.
And I see her.
She is dancing again—not the same ritual from before, but a deeper one, older, drawn by instinct more than tradition.
The moonlight bends around her.
Shimmers.
Answers her.
Her steps glow, leaving trails of silver in the air.
And then it happens.
A pulse.
It strikes through the square like a heartbeat of magic.
Her eyes widen.
Her breath falters.
The air behind her ripples—
And wings appear.
This time not faint.
Not flickering.
Fully formed, translucent lunar wings of pale silver-blue, unfolding out of her back like they had always been waiting.
The crowd gasps. Children shriek in awe. Old priests fall to their knees.
Lily stumbles, terrified.
“I—I don’t understand—” she whispers.
But I do.
Because the pulse that awakened her wings crashes into me as well.
My own draconic blood roars to life like a storm breaking open.
Lightning licks down my spine.
My senses sharpen—recognizing her.
Resonating with her.
She isn’t just any priestess.
She is moon-dragon descended.
She is my counterpart.
My fated match.
Meant for me.
My heart pounds, not from confusion now, but clarity so sharp it hurts.
I step toward her.
“Lily,” I breathe.
She looks at me with trembling disbelief. “Your Highness… what’s happening to me?”
“Your blood is awakening,” I tell her gently. “Your lineage… is calling out.”
Her wings shimmer again, brighter.
“And it’s calling to mine.”
Her breath catches.
“You…?” She stares at me as if seeing me for the first time.
“Yes.” My voice is rough. “It’s you. It’s always been you.”
Silence.
Heavy.
Electric.
Full of truth.
The entire village watches, but in this moment, it feels like only she exists.
And I know—
with absolute certainty—
that I cannot go back to the palace and bind myself to someone else.
Not now.
Not ever.
Wings of Prophecy and a Thunderbound Future
The next morning, the engagement ceremony is meant to begin.
Guests gather from every continent. Musicians tune their golden harps. Arcelia stands waiting in ceremonial robes of gold and violet.
I step into the hall.
The whispers begin immediately.
But I do not walk toward her.
I walk straight past her, toward the throne.
“Kouji.” My father’s voice freezes the room. “You are late. Stand beside Princess Arcelia so the betrothal may be—”
“I refuse.”
The room erupts.
Arcelia’s face pales—not with heartbreak, but fury.
My father stands, voice like thunder, “Kouji, you will not disgrace Rosethornia. You will honor this alliance.”
“No,” I say, louder, clearer. “I will not marry someone I do not love.”
Gasps.
Arcelia’s hands clench. “You dare—”
“I have chosen someone already,” I say, cutting through the chaos. “My heart belongs to her.”
The hall falls into stunned silence.
Whispers spread like wildfire.
“Who?”
“Has the prince been courting someone?”
“Is he mad—rejecting a royal alliance?!”
Father’s face darkens, the storm brewing in his eyes unmatched by even my own.
“You brought chaos upon this kingdom,” he hisses. “You defied a royal alliance for a village priestess.”
I step forward, shielding Lily slightly behind me.
“She is not just a priestess,” I say. “She is moon-dragon descended.”
Father’s jaw tightens. “Even so—”
“And her wings manifested in my presence,” I continue. “Our resonance is undeniable. You of all people know what that means.”
Silence ripples through the hall.
Because every elder dragon knows the truth:
When two draconic bloodlines resonate, fate has chosen.
Interference is an insult to the ancient laws.
The High Seer, an elderly man whose eyes glow faintly with stormlight, steps forward slowly.
“I felt the shift in the ley lines that night,” he says softly. “The moon’s call answered the storm’s pulse. This is no accident, Your Majesty.”
Father clenches his fists. “Even so, this does not erase our commitments! Virellium will take this as insult—”
“Better insulted,” I cut in, “than bound in a marriage that violates fate.”
Gasps echo. A bold statement. Reckless. But true.
Father narrows his eyes. “You risk war.”
“I will risk anything,” I say, voice low, “before I risk losing her.”
The council murmurs—some in agreement, others in alarm.
The aftermath is chaos wrapped in awe.
Some nobles whisper doubts:
“A village girl?”
“Can she handle royal life?”
“Prophecy or not, she’s untrained.”
Others bow in reverence:
“A moon-dragon reborn.”
“The goddess’s chosen.”
“The future queen is blessed.”
Dragon clans send envoys with offerings, acknowledging her lineage. The priests of the Moon Temple kneel when she enters. Even the storm-dragon generals show respect.
As moonlight and storm entwine, the people begin to shift.
Villagers claim they dreamed of silver wings before dawn.
Priests say the moon shines brighter on nights Lily visits the shrine.
Dragon elders whisper that fate is correcting an ancient loss.
The idea of her as future queen no longer sounds impossible.
It sounds… inevitable.
And I will stand beside her every step of the way.
Where Fate Chooses Love
In the weeks that follow, the kingdom changes around us.
So does Lily.
She begins as the quiet, overwhelmed priestess who clings to her composure while the world tries to reshape her. But every time doubt rises in her eyes, I am there.
And every time I reach for her hand, she holds on a little tighter.
One evening, beneath the moonlit balcony overlooking Rosethornia’s thorn-woven gardens, she finally speaks the fear she has kept hidden behind her calm smile.
“Kouji… all of this happened because of me,” she whispers. “Your father’s anger. The broken alliance. The political tension. You chose me, and now you’re paying the price.”
She looks away, fingers trembling.
“I worry… I’m taking more from you than I’m giving.”
Her voice is soft — but there is a crack in it that shatters me.
I move closer, gently tilting her chin up so she has to see the truth in my eyes.
“Lily. Listen to me.”
My voice is steady — because this is the one thing I have never once doubted.
“You didn’t take anything from me.”
I shake my head slowly.
“You gave me everything.
A reason to choose myself.
A reason to choose love.
A reason to break free of a future that never belonged to me.”
Her breath catches. Her wings shimmer faintly behind her — silver, fragile, beautiful.
“When I first saw you,” I continue, “I didn’t know why my heart stopped. Why everything in me felt different.”
I take her hands.
“But now I do. My storm recognized your moonlight before I did.”
She swallows hard, eyes shining. “Kouji…”
“It was never political,” I say gently. “It was fate.”
Her wings unfold — instinctive, soft, glowing with quiet acceptance.
Tradition bends.
Old chains crack.
And destiny slowly aligns with the beating of two hearts.
My father resists the longest, torn between anger and ancient reverence. But even he cannot deny what the High Seer finally proclaims before the entire court:
“Storm does not kneel for moonlight unless fate commands it.”
The hall falls silent.
Lily’s wings shimmer gently at her sides—The storm inside me answers her, rising in a hum of magic that dances with her moonlight.
Two souls who had been quietly waiting for the other without knowing.
Her head rests on my chest. My hand finds her waist. Our powers entwine, moonlight swirling with flickers of storm, forming something luminous and ancient between us.
A bond.
A promise.
A beginning.
Storm and moonlight.
Fate and choice.
Heir and priestess.
Together.
*****
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