Dia wiped the corners of her mouth, incredibly conscious of the gazes that were directed her way, before glancing at a sopping wet Schwarz and his bar counter. Colidra, who had just insinuated some very disturbing words, was chuckling away, rocking back and forth on his heels.

“Erm.” She fidgeted, before pulling out a handkerchief. “Here?”

“Clearly, you never heard the original before,” Schwarz muttered, before wiping his face. “I’ll have to take a bath, before the ants decide I’m something worth nibbling.”

“S-sorry.” Dia looked away. “I didn’t know that was possible.”

“Neither did I,” Schwarz replied, before grimacing. “I’m going off for a moment. Ladies, gentlemen, my apologies. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes. Mister Colidra, do continue on with me, although do try to make sure that my companion doesn’t launch another barrage of apple juice wantonly.”

The storyteller chuckled. “Sure. I’ll pause dramatically whenever I arrive at any mind-blowing sentences, okay?”

Laughter swirled around the bar, and Schwarz drifted out with the dying laughter. Without much preamble, the middle-aged man cleared his throat and continued his story.

“The first of the primordial humans, Helios, was dissatisfied with the Moons’ light. ‘O Moons,’ said he, ‘ye lights art feeble, and deprivest us of our heritage. Shine, O Moons, and banish the darkness, lest ye brook our displeasure.’

‘Nay,’ said Plota. ‘Thine race dost not live alone. Thou art not the master of the world; begone, I entreat thee. Thy ambition is boundless, but thou livest in a bounded world.’

‘In that case, O Moons,’ said Helios, ‘this meeting shalt be our last as kin. Thy light art likest fireflies, that which flickers and fades in the howling Dark. We shalt not bow to neither the Dark nor your feeble light. Witness truest courage — we, the chosen children — will raise our swords and fight!’”

Cheers erupted from the assembled patrons, with some of them even acting out the two characters. From the looks of it, this was a regular event, to the point that even Colidra even took the chance to sneak a few sips from his own cup. Dia glanced at the middle-aged old man and followed suit. For some reason, her instincts were telling her that this was a story that had truth to it, and her mind’s eye began to conjure up images of the war that followed.

As the patrons played around with mock swings and shouts, Dia pondered over the legend again. The words used sounded very close to the archaic language commonly seen in ritual magic dedicated to the gods, although such language was also employed to fit the mood in opera houses and other similar establishments. After pondering over the issue for a grand total of three seconds, she held herself back from asking Colidra about her doubts first.

“Ahem.” Colidra placed down his cup and stood up once more, and a deathly hush fell over the bar. “Helios, despite his words, knew that fighting against their mothers were impossible. Defeating the Moons would not light up the world; this much he knew. As such, even as he drummed up the other humans for a war, Helios summoned his courage and snuck into the five grand skies, where the Moons lived.”

Dia blinked.

Colidra, whose eyes were now closed, said, “The Moons, who were watching the humans closely, failed to notice Helios, who only had one goal — the transcendent light in which they lit up the world. Percuti, the red moon of change, was the bearer of the faint, gentle light that illuminated all life in perpetuity, a sun seed, sealed and restrained by ever-lasting change.”

“A thief,” Dia mumbled. “It’s somewhat…”

Lost for words, she tried to take another sip, only to notice that her cup was empty. For obvious reasons, Schwarz wasn’t back yet, so she could only extinguish the odd emotions within her with some cool air.

“Helios eventually saw an opening and struck. Diving into the heart of Percuti, he wrenched the source of the Moons’ light and tore it out, bringing with him four other sources of elemental might. Enraged, the red moon of change chased Helios as he leapt out of the skies, but tragedy struck.” Colidra smiled. “For you see, Percuti had shared light with the other Moons to weaken the sun seed. Now that Helios had stolen it in its entirety, the embodiment of light had regained its true glory, burning the thief to death.”

Dia shuddered at the simple way in which Colidra described Helios’ death.

“Cutting a swathe of golden light through the five grand skies, the sun seed consumed Helios and turned into the sun we know of today,” said the storyteller. “At the same time, the Moons lost the ability to shine in perpetuity, forever reliant upon the sun for light. And so, for the first time since creation, humanity knew the harsh light of the day…and the Moons in both their darkest and their brightest, the five phases of the Moons.”

“Hey, Mister Colidra!”

The storyteller smiled at the crowd with a knowing grin. “Yes?”

“What’s the lesson behind this legend?”

“Humans are thieving traitors,” Colidra promptly replied. “They denounced the Moons, injured Percuti to the point that its sole goal changed into inciting death, and most crucially of all, created the sun.

Everyone laughed at those words, but from how some of them were already chanting along with Colidra’s reply, Dia could tell that this was a yearly skit that came by whenever the four months of the Full Moons drew to an end. She couldn’t help but agree with Colidra, though.

“Right,” said Dia, “what happened to the four sources of elemental might that Helios stole?”

“The Moons couldn’t retrieve them, but the humans could,” Colidra replied. “Wresting away the sources of divinity the Moons jealously guarded, four humans, each exceptionally…traitorous in their own right, became the beings we now call the Primordial Gods; the gods of the four elements.”

“Wait, so what did the First Godsfall exactly refer to?” Dia asked, confused.

“The whole thing,” Colidra replied. “The theft from the Moons, the gruesome battles as humans killed each other for a small ball of coloured power, the advent of the Primordial Pantheon, everything. The godlike humans that fell back then was probably the reason behind the name. That said, there’s a particularly special theory behind about why it was called the First Godsfall, though.”

“What theory?” Dia picked up her empty cup, and then set it down for the second time.

“Know you the Celestia Ruins? A popular theory has it that the battle to become the Primordial Gods tore up space, severing a piece of paradise from another world. Beings that called themselves gods surged out of the severed piece of paradise and fought a bloody battle to the death as vengeance. Hence the name.”

“Which one’s more convincing?” Dia asked.

“The non-nonsensical explanation, naturally,” Colidra replied. “That said, the nonsensical one does at least account for the Celestia Ruins, so…”

He mumbled something under his breath, and then pulled off his hat. “Right, I forgot. Tips.”

The bar patrons broke out into cheers once more as Colidra tossed his hat onto the table, and metallic glints arced through the air. Pleasant clinks echoed in Dia’s ear as the hat began to fill up at a visible rate, although they were mostly bronze coins.

Dia produced a small silver coin and tossed it into the hat, before looking around furtively. The fact that she had tipped such a paltry amount for Colidra’s hard work was probably going to be one of the blackest stains in her history.

Fortunately, Schwarz came in at that moment, drawing everyone’s eyes to him.

“Oh.” Schwarz patted his damp hair, and then sighed. “I missed it…never mind. I’ll just replay it from memory or something.”

He tossed a piece of gold into Colidra’s hat and smiled. “Thanks for coming by, buddy. My patrons love it whenever you drop by, you know.”

Colidra patted his full hat. “I can see it.”

Everyone laughed, and a few more coins fell into the hat.

“Alright, I guess I should talk about the recent events that has happened around town,” said Colidra. “As well as some…very problematic deaths that occurred in the past month. Which one do you good people want to hear about first?”

“The problematic deaths!”

More and more support piled up behind those words, and Colidra nodded. “Sure. In recent days, someone of grave import has been killed. His body was discovered in Licencia, and…”

Dia gulped. The only person Colidra could be talking about was Zulan Patra, the Spear of Fate, and the enamoured audience broke out into surprised cries as the storyteller revealed the Spear of Fate’s grisly end.

Stealing a glance at Schwarz’s face, Dia couldn’t help but note that the smile he had on earlier had vanished. The two of them had heard the story from Lily and Claud first, and they had even visited the scene itself, but that didn’t stop her from feeling uneasy at Colidra’s words.

Reflecting on the events of this year alone, Dia thought about the huge upheavals that had irrevocably changed her life, before staring down at her—

She glanced at Schwarz, who had a knowing smile on his face, and then nodded at him in thanks. Raising her full cup, she gave Schwarz a toast, and downed the contents in one bit.

Even though the Moons would soon be dark, there were always pinpricks of light to be found anywhere.