Chapter 129: Orion, Sophia and the Festival Proper IV

Chapter 128: Orion, Sophia and the Festival Proper IV

The painter’s frown was faint, but Sophia caught it.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, uncertain. The hum of laughter and music from the festival square filled the air, punctuated by the soft pulse of drums and the glow of lanterns.

The woman blinked, her expression smoothing. "No," she said finally, voice lilting. "Nothing’s wrong, dear. It’s just surprising...it’s rare for anyone to even ask about the half crescent moon leg alone paint it on their faces during the festival."

Sophia tilted her head. "Why? Isn’t it just a symbol of the Moon Goddess watching over us?"

The woman’s lips curved into a knowing smile as she picked up her brush. "Ah, that’s the common meaning, yes, the one everyone repeats because it’s simple to say." She dipped the brush into a pot of silvery pigment, its surface glimmering like liquid moonlight. "But it’s not just that. There’s more to it."

Sophia frowned slightly. "Really? Now I’m curious."

"I suspect you always are." The woman said.

Sophia chuckled lightly. "Maybe. But I want to know more about this mark. What else does it signify?"

"Hold still," the painter murmured.

The first stroke was cool against her skin, a soft sweep across her cheekbone that made her shiver. The woman’s fingers were steady, the scent of crushed silverleaf and lavender lingering in the air. "The half crescent," she said as she painted, "is the Moon Goddess in her waning form, watching, yes, but also remembering." She said to Sophia. "It is called the Watcher’s Light. It’s painted for the wandering souls, for those still walking between who they were and who they will become. The Moon Goddess keeps watch over such people, the ones still finding their path in the dark, guiding them into the light and offering her protection over them. But hat’s just the open and general meaning, the one everyone knows. The one they shorten." She told Sophia.

Sophia’s eyes softened. "That’s... beautiful."

"It is," the woman agreed. "To wear it is to ask for balance, to be seen, even when you’re not whole." She paused, her eyes glinting in the torchlight. "But," she added, her tone lowering, "there’s another meaning."

Sophia blinked. "I already suspected there was another meaning with the way you spoke earlier." Sophia said with a laugh.

The woman’s lips twitched. "Of course but the other meaning is a quieter one. The kind you don’t tell just anyone. And the one that’s more a secret than public knowledge." The woman told her.

Sophia leaned forward slightly, curiosity piqued. "And what’s that supposed to mean?"

The woman didn’t answer immediately. Her brush traced the last curve of the moon, her movements slow and deliberate. Only when she was done did she set the brush aside and dip her finger into a jar of glittering dust. She pressed it lightly over the painted crescent, sealing it with a faint shimmer.

Then, leaning close, her voice a whisper against Sophia’s ear, she said, "The half crescent," she whispered, "is also called the Unfinished Bond. They say two souls share it when the Moon Goddess deems their paths entwined. It’s a mark for lovers divided by fate, waiting to be made whole when their halves meet again."

Sophia froze, warmth surging to her cheeks. Her gaze darted instinctively toward Orion, who stood a few paces away, his back turned as he exchanged a polite nod with someone in the line. His brown hair caught the faint light and for a while, Sophia forgot how to breathe. He looked better and she was noticing parts about him she never even thought she would notice before. But just as her gaze flickered to him, it quickly turned back.

The woman drew back, smiling knowingly. Small as the movement was, she had noticed it. "Now you know." she said as she patted Sophia’s arm.

Sophia quickly looked away, pretending to study the jars of paint. "R-right. Thank you." Her voice sounded too bright, even to her own ears.

The woman chuckled softly. "The painting suits you."

Sophia opened her mouth to protest, to say something, anything that could tell the woman that she was wrong and that she had seen wrongly but before she could, Orion appeared beside her, his presence a quiet command that made the painter straighten.

Without a word, he took Sophia’s elbow and gently pulled her aside, guiding her into the crowd’s ebb. "My turn," he said simply, sitting down in her place.

Sophia blinked, startled. "You could at least let me pay her first," she muttered, folding her arms.

He sighed deeply. "We’ve had this conversation before shorty, but you don’t have any money to even pay with so wait until I’m done okay?" He told her.

Sophia rolled her eyes calling him rude but Orion didn’t reply her, he just smiled faintly at the woman who observed their interaction.

The woman smiled at him. "What design will it be, Alpha?"

Orion tilted his head toward Sophia. "The same as hers."

The woman’s brows lifted. "The same?"

He nodded once. "Yes."

"Are you sure?" The woman asked him her gaze moving to Sophia then back to him in a heartbeat.

"Yes, I am."

Sophia’s jaw dropped in shock. "What...you can’t...Orion..."

He ignored her, his expression calm and unbothered as the woman began mixing the same pigment she’d used for Sophia. The brush swept over his skin. The painter worked in silence for a moment, her amusement visible in the curve of her mouth.

When she was done, she stepped back and admired her work. "Perfect."

Orion reached for his coin pouch before Sophia could move. "For both," he said, dropping a few silver tokens into her palm.

"Thank you, Alpha," the woman said with a knowing smile.

Sophia huffed. "You could’ve let me pay for mine."

"I just did," Orion replied simply, walking ahead. "And again shorty, you are poor."

She glared at his back. "You’re impossible."

He didn’t even look over his shoulder. "You keep saying that like it’s an insult."

She muttered something under her breath, earning a quiet laugh from the painter as they moved away.

The crowd thickened around them, the music swelling, drums and flutes weaving together as dancers spun beneath the lanterns. Children with paper moons ran past, laughter echoing off the stone walls. The air shimmered with warmth and noise and life.

Sophia, however, couldn’t quite shake the heat in her cheeks. Every time she caught sight of the silver curve painted on Orion’s cheek, the same as hers, her stomach fluttered.

He noticed her staring. "What?"

She quickly looked away. "Nothing."

Lie

"I know when you’re lying Sophia." He told her.

She huffed. "Fine. Did the painter tell you anything about the paint?"

"No. Is that what is bothering you?" He asked her.

"Yes and no. But I’m not going to tell you what’s bothering me." She told him.

"And here I told you about the enclave and everything they did."

"After I forced it out of you." She muttered.

"But I told you."

She sighed. "Fine. Why did you pick the same one as me?"

He shrugged. "Because I felt like it." He told her.

Her eyes flicked to his face again, the moon symbol catching light. "You just... felt like it?"

"Is there something wrong with it?" he asked, genuine curiosity threading his tone.

"No...I mean yes," she said too quickly. "It just..." She stopped herself and forced a smile. "You know what...never mind. I’m not going to tell you and it’s not your problem either way."

He studied her for a moment but let it go.

They wandered deeper into the square, past food stalls and music, until Sophia noticed a crowd gathered near a small stage made of wooden planks. A white sheet was stretched between two poles, lit from behind by lanterns. Figures moved behind it, shadows flickering across the surface. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

Her eyes lit up. "What’s that?"

"A shadow play," Orion said, following her gaze. "It’s part of the festival. They retell old stories, legends, victories, the things people want to remember. But for this festival, they retell the story of what happened."

Sophia’s smile widened. "Let’s go watch!"

Before he could protest, she grabbed his wrist and tugged him forward, weaving through the crowd until they reached the front. The audience, mostly children and a few older villagers, murmured with anticipation as the music quieted.

A deep, dramatic voice rang out. "Once, long ago, when the moon hid her face in sorrow, the Enclave came upon Nightshade’s gates."

The shadow figures leapt into motion, wolves and soldiers, trees bending in a phantom wind. Flames of orange light flickered behind the screen, mimicking fire.

Sophia gasped softly. "That’s..."

"The Enclave attack," Orion murmured, arms crossed. His voice was calm.

On the screen, puppet wolves charged against the shadow soldiers, their movements jerky but fierce. The crowd laughed as exaggerated roars and clanging metal filled the air.

"The invaders came with silver and flame!" the narrator continued. "They thought they could break us..."

Sophia noticed how Orion’s body language had shifted and knew that she had made a wrong decision dragging him here.

She dragged him with her, leading him further into the square when she saw some people dancing and an idea sprouted in her mind.

"Let’s dance." She said with a wide smile.