Banished Divinity: Learning to be Human

As night fell, I decided to take a walk by myself.

The campsite was not big. I knew for a fact that I would not get lost. Besides, I had noticed something earlier—a small lagoon that faced the ocean, visible from the path we had taken to reach the campsite.

The moment I had seen it; something had stirred in my chest. Something old. Something familiar.

The moon, I thought. The water. The light.

When I was a celestial being—before the fall, before the amnesia, before I became this strange hybrid of mortal and divine—I would bathe in lagoons like this one. I would find a pool of water where the moonlight touched the surface, and I would step into it, and I would let the cold water wash away the blood of my enemies.

Sometimes literally. Sometimes metaphorically. Both were valid.

And in those moments—those quiet, sacred moments—I would sometimes hear my birth mother's voice.

She was an Angel of the High Heaven Choir, one of the voices that sang the universe into existence every morning. She had not raised me. She had not held me. She had not been there for any of the important moments of my life.

But she had given me one thing.

A song.

The song she sang when she bathed under the moon. The song about giving yourself to the light, about letting the moon shine upon you, about protection and strength and the courage to face whatever came next.

I had sung it many times. Before every hunt. Before every battle. Before every moment when I thought I might not survive.

And now, standing in this mortal body, on this mortal island, under this mortal moon... I wanted to sing it again.

Not for protection. Not for strength.

For blessing.

For the people I loved. For Mum and Dad. For Mina. For Human Sera. For Moo Moo, who I had left behind, For Lily, For Human Sera 2 besties.

For Minjae.

The thought surprised me. But I did not push it away.

The lagoon was beautiful—more beautiful than I remembered from the brief glimpse I had caught on the way in. The water was crystal clear, reflecting the moon like a mirror made of glass. The air was cold and crisp, carrying the scent of salt and earth and something else... something almost familiar.

Hmm, I thought. There is energy in the air. Energy that is not from this world, but not out of this world either. It is... somewhere in between.

I have not felt anything like this since I came to this realm.

I wanted to bathe in the water—to step into it the way I used to, to let it wash over me, to feel the moonlight on my skin.

But there was a problem.

Mina had told me about a law in the human world called "indecent exposure." Apparently, removing one's clothing in public was illegal. I could be jailed for it. And that, Mina had said, would be like stabbing Mum and Dad in the heart.

I do not want to stab Mum and Dad in the heart, I thought. They have been through enough. Dad cries enough. Mum's eye twitches enough.

I will not remove my clothing.

But I can still dip my feet in.

I sat at the edge of the lagoon, slowly and gently, the way I had done a thousand times in a thousand different realms. I removed my shoes. I rolled up my pants. I lowered my feet into the water.

It was cold.

It was perfect.

I sat there for a moment, letting the moonlight wash over me. Then, slowly, I raised my hands to the sky.

And I sang.

Moon of light, shine on me...

"Vaelis thyr en maris sai..."

Wash my fears into the sea...

"Darae valen noctis rei..."

Grant me strength to face the night...

"Darae coris, darae mai..."

Grant me courage, grant me might...

The words came back to me like they had never left—like they had been waiting in my bones, buried under years of forgetting, ready to rise when I needed them most.

"Benedrae alor en vaelis dear..."

Bless the ones I hold so dear...

"Sela varis, sela near..."

Keep them safe, keep them near...

"Quan falora, quan celai..."

When I falter, when I fall...

"Luxara veyth, guia all..."

Be the light that guides through all...

My voice echoed across the water, soft and clear. The moon seemed to brighten. The air seemed to hum.

I closed my eyes.

And I sang.

Minjae.

He had followed her. Not because he didn't trust her. Not because he thought she would get lost. But because he had seen the look in her eyes when she left—the distant look, the faraway look, the look that said she was somewhere else, someone else, a version of herself that he did not know.

He had followed her to make sure she was safe.

And now he stood in the darkness, listening to her sing.

The song was beautiful. Haunting. Like nothing he had ever heard before—like something from another world, another time, another life.

Her voice rose and fell with the moonlight, and Minjae felt something crack open in his chest.

This is who she is, he thought. This is who she was. Before the fall. Before the amnesia. Before she became the weird girl who argued with herself literately and fainted in the school courtyard.

This is Seraphyne.

The one I have been in love ever since I was twelve.

He did not step forward.

He did not interrupt.

He just watched.

And he listened.

And he waited.