"The dead shell of a being whose will was as firm as stone. Its consciousness and memories were transformed into this form by the Astral Plane. After a deity died, it was forced to float through the Astral Plane in a state like hibernation."
Luna's voice remained ethereal, her tone unchanged, yet she somehow no longer felt quite like herself.
"Of course, this kind of death differs from what mortals understand. The essence of divine power is the manifestation of thought—for instance, a concept such as knowledge, or the belief in encouraging the pursuit of knowledge. It merely returned to the Astral Plane's spiritual realm, where all things were thought. It would drift there quietly, eventually becoming an almost forgotten memory, turning into an empty shell that had once possessed terrifying power. So it was not the end of life in the mortal sense... Only when it had been completely forgotten by everyone could it be considered truly dead."
As her words fell, her hand, made even more slender and fair by its immense size, rose and pulled back the hood over her head. As the hood slipped down, where Luna's head had originally been was now indeed nothing more than something filled with nebulae, planets, and a universe-like void.
Apparently noticing the frightened expression on her daughter's face, those things swiftly collided and merged, returning to Luna's original head. Her appearance had not actually changed—long, pale golden curls drifting softly, misty pale silver eyes that seemed somewhat abrupt, fair and delicate skin...
This Goddess still looked like the beautiful, exquisite young Witch she had always been, yet she gave off the impression of an eternal face—neither immature nor capable of aging, like the seemingly everlasting faces carved upon statues.
Only then did Helena relax somewhat. She could not sense