Crescent Moon

by David Partelow

  “That is disheartening,” said Calla.

  “What can we do?” Thorn-Ren said with a shrug and a laugh. “Such are the fates and we do what we can to endure them.”

  Calla looked at him with her deep, inspiring eyes. “I have always been a believer that we shape our own fates. If your life or your name ill-suits you, then change them,” she said.

  Thorn-Ren was silent for a few breaths, as he absorbed her words fully. “You know, Calla, I have never given it much thought, but I do believe you may very well be right,” he said.

  Calla held up her hands in playful exclamation. “And he is a man who can see reason! Do wonders never cease?”

  Thorn-Ren blushed, shaking his head with a smile. “I suppose they do not,” he offered. “Though, Calla, I was wondering. Would you mind so much if we take the long way back to Alethia? I am very much enjoying our conversation.”

  Calla nodded to him. “Of course. I know either way I will get there safely thanks to you. Lead the way, Patch,” she said.

  Thorn-Ren grinned. “You know, coming from you, that doesn’t sound so bad,” he laughed.

  “May change grow on you,” said Calla as they continued.

  The two new friends walked for some time, never running out of things to talk about. Calla spoke of Alethia, the vibrant colors of her home and its guardian Nibiru. Thorn-Ren was amazed by this, for he had never seen Alethia up close. He revealed to her that Bunda-Bas was a darker place that valued only strength and battle prowess, where the weeds relied only on themselves. Calla found such a notion to be truly heartbreaking.

  Thorn-Ren and Calla walked for hours, though to both it felt more like a span of breaths. As the night began to fade to the waking Firestar, the two new friends found themselves nearing the cliff that held the little city of Alethia. At seeing it, Thorn-Ren felt relieved to have Calla home safe, but also sad that their time was nearing its end. He wondered if Calla felt the same, for as both looked upon Alethia in the distance, they had become equally quiet.

  “Well, it appears that our journey must soon end,” said Thorn-Ren as he held out a hand toward Alethia. “As promised, I have returned you home, safe and sound. And with your stellar company, I would say we are definitely even now.”

  “Nonsense,” countered Calla, as she patted his arm. “I have yet to feel we have settled our debts. Perhaps another walk soon will alleviate this,” she added.

  Thorn-Ren grinned at the notion. He was much more relaxed now with Calla. “I will not dispute this, for I greatly wish for the same thing,” he said.

  “Call on me any time,” said Calla. “I think you will truly enjoy Alethia.”

  Thorn-Ren paused then, as he regarded Calla. “I don’t think I would be welcome there, Calla,” he said morosely.

  Calla gave him a little push. “That is nonsense! That is not the way of my people,” she exclaimed.

  Thorn-Ren lowered his head. “It is the way of our world. You are a beautiful flower and I am a dark weed. If it were not true there would not be an Alethia and a Bunda-Bas...just Alethia-Bas or Bundithia or something,” he said, trying to chuckle at his words.

  Calla placed a hand on Thorn-Ren’s shoulder. “If that is the way of things, then we must do what we can to change them. For it matters not if we are weeds or flowers, but rather what heart we choose to have beat within us. You may say what you want of yourself, but your actions have revealed the truth. I will stand behind you, Thorn-Ren, no matter how much I wish you to have a more adventurous name!”

  Thorn-Ren was moved by her words, yet he tried to hide it with humor and thought. “I suppose I could go by my mother’s name given to me. I wager I will take it over you calling me Patch-Ren or some such nonsense,” he replied.

  The two new friends laughed as they hugged one another. The embrace stilled Thorn-Ren greatly and it felt like time was standing still. Both friends grew quiet and the hug lingered. The little weed was loathing to let her go, so lost was he in her warmth and fragrance. Again, he felt the stirring in his chest.

  “Release her at once!”

  At the sound of the unknown voice, Thorn-Ren jumped in front of Calla, brandishing his thorn daggers. The little weed’s movements came not a second too soon, for a shadowy figure leapt toward him, staff raised. Thorn-Ren met the figure head on, using both his blades to block an attack. Shifting his weight, Thorn-Ren pushed the attack away from Calla, keeping her safe at all costs.

  Thorn-Ren and the shadowy stranger began to fight fiercely. The little weed only focused on two things: the enemy’s staff and keeping himself between the attacker and Calla. The thought of Calla made Thorn-Ren fight harder and more swiftly than he ever had before, keeping his blades a breath ahead of the incoming strikes. Frustrated by this, the attacker swung his staff harder, intent to strike Thorn-Ren down once and for all.

  As a particularly fierce attack raced at Thorn-Ren, the little weed ducked under it, allowing the miss to stagger his enemy off balance. Using the chance, Thorn-Ren wrapped an arm around his enemy’s neck, pulling him to the ground. Jumping on top of his attacker, Thorn-Ren raised his blades, prepared to strike and end the fight. Below him, his enemy prepared to defend himself from such a blow.

  “Thorn-Ren, stop!”

  At the sound of Calla’s plea, the little weed stayed his hands. Below him, a proud looking snapdragon flower looked up at him angrily. The snapdragon wore the colors of Alethia’s guardsmen. Thorn-Ren reluctantly put his blades away as two more guards took his arms and pulled him off the snapdragon.

  Getting up, the snapdragon brushed off his armor indignantly. “It is a serious crime in Alethia to assault one of its guards,” said the snapdragon. Thorn-Ren found his voice to be very grating.

  Not resisting his captors, Thorn-Ren smiled at the snapdragon. “That is true, unless that guardsman attacked first without announcing his authority,” said the little weed, versed in the laws of Alethia.

  The snapdragon looked at him sternly, motioning to the assembled guards about. “It hardly matters when it is your word against ours,” he replied smugly.

  “Lennix, that is quite enough,” exclaimed Calla as she rushed in between the snapdragon and Thorn-Ren. “You release Thorn-Ren at once, for he has done no harm to anything but your pride.”

  The snapdragon known as Lennix crossed his arms. “He is from Bunda-Bas. That is crime enough as far as I am concerned,” he commented darkly.

  Calla placed a hand on his chest. “Your way of thinking diminishes the grandness of all of Alethia. Now release him,” she commanded.

  Lennix rolled his eyes before motioning to his guards. “Very well. Release him, though I want it noted that it is a bad idea,” he said.

  As the guards released Thorn-Ren, Calla gave Lennix a hard look. “You will give this weed the respect he deserves. He showed great courage rescuing me from imps, a feat I could not imagine you having the spine to attempt,” she offered, coldly.

  “Ha! A made-up story to cover mischief,” said Lennix.

  Calla’s eyes narrowed. “A snide comment to cover over my statement. You only reveal your own lack of courage with such remarks,” she said.

  “It seems as though they let anyone be guards, these days,” said Thorn-Ren with a grin.

  Lennix went to approach the little weed, but Calla got between them again. “There will be no more quarreling today. Please do not provoke them, Thorn-Ren,” she said.

  Thorn-Ren bowed with a smile. “As you wish, Calla.”

  Calla smiled to him before addressing Lennix again. “We can return to Alethia now under your guard. The king and queen must hear of Thorn-Ren’s bravery, as he has proven himself a friend to our people,” she said.

  Lennix shook his head. “Absolutely out of the question,” he said sharply. “Whatever deeds he may or may not have accomplished does not change the fact that he is a weed of Bunda-Bas. For all we know, he was in league with the imps and this was a ploy to gain the confidence of Alethia.”

  Calla wa
s clearly fuming at this. “That is preposterous! Thorn-Ren pulled me away from imps meaning to cook me in a pot! How dare you try to tarnish such an act!”

  Lennix held out a hand to quell her. “I assume you were held in some cage or bag?” He asked.

  Calla nodded. “A bag, yes,” she replied.

  Lennix’s eyes gleamed. “And so, it is safe to assume that you never saw the events of your so-called rescue from the clutches of three imps. For all you know it is in fact a ploy concocted by our enemy. I am afraid such a weed cannot be allowed in our city without clear cut evidence of his deeds,” he said triumphantly.

  “Now you listen here, Lennix!” Calla was beside herself now.

  Thorn-Ren put a hand on Calla’s shoulder, turning her softly toward him. “It’s okay, Calla. What matters is you are safe and not what he thinks of me,” said the weed.

  “But this is ridiculous, Thorn-Ren! It is simply not fair,” uttered the pink lotus. Thorn-Ren realized that even sadness did not take away from her beauty.

  Thorn-Ren squeezed her shoulder. “If my life has taught me anything, it is definitely the fact that life is often not fair. That we cannot change, only how we respond to it. However Lennix or his men feel about me does not change the fact that not only were you rescued tonight, but also I had the chance to befriend such a wondrous flower,” he said in earnest.

  Calla hugged him then. “Patch, I do not know what else to say. Thank you so much, for your kindness and your friendship. We must meet again soon,” she said, squeezing him tightly.

  “Whenever fate allows us, I will be there,” said Thorn-Ren. He released her reluctantly then, guiding her toward Lennix and his guards. “You should get home now. The people of Alethia must be worried sick.”

  Calla squeezed his hands, reluctant to let the little weed go. “I won’t forget you, Thorn-Ren. Not now or ever. And we shall meet once more,” she said.

  Thorn-Ren smiled again. “It is a day I truly look forward to, Calla of Alethia. Just don’t go getting lost again on my account. I will find you one day under safer circumstances.”

  Calla chuckled softly. “Farewell for now, Thorn-Ren,” she said.

  “Good-bye, Calla,” he replied softly.

  As Calla reluctantly went to the guards, she turned to look at him one last time. “And do something about that name. A weed of adventure deserves an adventurous name to match,” she said.

  Thorn-Ren saluted her. “I’ll get right on that,” he said as the guards surrounded her and began their journey back to Alethia. “And maybe I will use the name my mother gave me and never revealed to you!”

  “Do that!”

  Thorn-Ren watched Calla go, suddenly feeling a sting in his heart. The young weed was grateful for meeting the pink lotus, yet doubt of a reunion filled his thoughts. He would try to remain optimistic, but it still hurt to watch Calla go. As the distance between Thorn-Ren and Calla grew, the young weed noticed that Lennix had remained behind and was looking quite pleased with himself.

  Clasping his hands behind his back, Thorn-Ren approached the snapdragon. “It is any wonder that a liar such as yourself could feel so smug about anything under a false guise of goodness,” he said.

  Lennix crossed his arms again. “And what is that supposed to mean, weed-patch?” he asked.

  Thorn-Ren stopped only inches from Lennix, not budging as he looked fearlessly into the plant’s eyes. “We never said how many imps were in that camp. You were there, either too scared to act or unwilling. Or perhaps you wished to have something else to blame on Bunda-Bas. The fact that you would endanger a life such as Calla’s speaks volumes of your character. Should I see you do such a cowardly act again, we will be forced to tempt our fates with the Dream.”

  “A threat?” Lennix asked.

  “A promise,” said Thorn-Ren. “Now return to the safety of Alethia, for I have no patience for cowards or the wicked and you are both.” Thorn Ren then turned to make his long trip back to Bunda-Bas.

  As Thorn-Ren walked away, a deep chuckle trickled from Lennix. “You should know that in the end it will not matter. You will never see Calla again. I will dispatch a courier to Bunda-Bas myself to inform your people that you are in league with plants. You shall not be welcome anywhere, an enemy to Alethia and an outcast to your home. What do you have to say to that, Thorn-Ren of Bunda-Bas?” asked Lennix, challenging the young weed.

  Thorn-Ren stopped, absorbing the words of the snapdragon guard of Alethia. He clenched his little fists then and Lennix smiled at this, pleased at the weed’s discomfort. Yet, this smile faded quickly, for Thorn-Ren’s hands relaxed as the little weed turned to grin at Lennix. The peace that the little weed felt could not be invaded by the actions or words of Lennix.

  It was then that the little weed spoke. “Lennix of Alethia, all I can say is so be it. I was an outcast long before you decided to meddle in my affairs. The Firestar rises and sets. Life unfolds as it does. And I shall now choose to face my fate as my own. I will never allow the will of a coward to diminish my life and I will live it knowing I will never allow the likes of you to steal such a life from me,” said Thorn-Ren as he turned again from the angry gaze of Lennix. The little weed welcomed the early light of the Firestar, facing his future with open arms.

  The Mighty One

  Rowan

  Somewhere in the heart of the pantheryn city of Randoon, six boys circled their quarry with a confidence often wrought by superior numbers. In their midst, a rambunctious young woman looked at them impatiently as she inspected her claws. Her face revealed that she was more than ready to skip past the banter and get right to the heart of action. It was a silly exchange she had endured often with most of the boys present. Today, they opted for the safe route and gathered their strength

  “Face it, Rowan, it’s time we taught you some manners. We’re all tired of your antics and need to be different.” A young pantheryn boy was pointing a claw at the young girl, a fellow pantheryn he had known since they were cubs. For as long as the boy had known her, she had held more difference than just her rare black fur and purple hair. No, it was much more than that in fact, a problem he saw that stemmed constantly from her actions and carefree choices.

  Crossing her arms, the one known as Rowan looked at the boy as if he were the silliest thing in all Lunaria. “Is that so, Richtor?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. “And what pray tell makes me different than you and the rest of your silly, silly pals? I mean, other than the fact that you are quite silly.” For emphasis, Rowan pointed at the five other scowling pantheryns that had surrounded her. None of them looked at all friendly, which was the usual when they addressed Rowan.

  The young male threw up his hands, obviously tired of his target. “I don’t know! You just are, and you love it! You always need to be different and cause trouble, no matter the case! And you like it, even if it means trouble for us too. If you know what’s good for you then you will stop this now!”

  Rowan nodded at this. “I see,” she said before looking at each of the other pantheryn’s present. “Then I think you should be asking yourselves a better question. What is so very wrong then with the lot of you?”

  Richtor growled, baring his fangs. “There’s nothing wrong with us! We know our place. To act as you do brings shame upon our class. We are the children of dignitaries and nobles and must act accordingly. You are an embarrassment to us and your parents, for while we are proud pantheryns, you choose to be a mangy cat,” said Richtor.

  With her arms still crossed, Rowan rolled her eyes as her tail thrashed about. She looked about the little city she called home. A proud place of heritage and renown, Randoon was the largest of all pantheryn havens. Though beautiful in its fancy structures and graceful citizens, Rowan had always found it a little stuffy. She had explored everything her home had to offer and now the walls were growing a little boring.

  Rowan offered the hecklers one last shot at reason. “I know this is a lost cause, but don’t you ever get tired of being what others e
xpect you to be and not who you truly are? We were meant for bigger things, for real adventure! I know that as well as my bones and the nine lives that drive me! And I will make this assurance now that no one calls me cat and gets away with it. I will expect your outright apology before we continue. So, do we handle this like intelligent creatures or do we do this the fun, yet painful way?” she asked.

  Richtor smiled deeply as he drew closer to Rowan. “And what are you going to do about it?” he challenged as looked her right in the eyes. “Cat.”

  At this, Rowan grinned earnestly as she held up one hand, allowing her claws to come out. “The fun way, then!” exclaimed Rowan as she leaped upon Richtor.

  Richtor yelped in surprise as Rowan attacked him. A moment later, the boy’s five friends joined in. For a long spat the seven Pantheryns battled upon the ground, hissing and biting and giving it their all. Those adults that passed by continued about their business, far too occupied to deal with the trivial matters of children.

  After a while, the boys began to flee one by one from the fight until all that was left were Rowan and Richtor. Rowan caught her breath as she sat proudly on Richtor’s back, claws holding him in place. The boy whined and cried out in protest and to this, Rowan could only grin.

  “So, tell me, Richtor, good buddy, ol pal, how dignified do you claim to be while you are crying like an infant cub?” Rowan asked in good cheer. “You would think that six normal, strong, and able young lads could put up a better fight than this.”

  Richtor squirmed to free himself to no avail. “Let go of me, Rowan! My parents will hear of this!” he bellowed.

  Rowan giggled, for it truly was a comical sight. “And that is a conversation I hope you let me see, for I want to watch you explain how you and five of your friends picked on and were bested by me. That is worth any punishment I may endure!”

  “Rowan!” Richtor cried out again, practically in tears. All his bravado had run off with his friends.