Crescent Moon

by David Partelow

  “It has been longer than you even realize, Prophet,” rasped a distant voice seeking purchase within the room.

  The Prophet jumped, but only slightly. It had been his hope that he would find life here, even if that hope had been slim. The Prophet looked to the pyre in the center of the room, holding his own breath as the ancient, cold embers slowly began to stir. The progress was sluggish, but the Prophet could see magic blue flame begin to bud and blossom. It was as if the procuring of the flame had been painful, the waking struggle from ages of dormancy.

  “Rigmor,” breathed the Prophet as he smiled upon the stirring blue flame. “I am so glad to see that you are still with us.”

  The voice returned, stronger this time and blessed with an eloquence and accent. “Your age has dulled your memory, Prophet. I am timeless no matter the state of this faltering castle.”

  The Prophet nodded softly. “Yes, but I always fear the chance that your interests in the workings of Lunaria could fade. I should never doubt your conviction. My apologies,” he said.

  “You are correct,” replied Rigmor. “I was entwined to the fate of this world even before my own fate was sealed. I shall always face the perils laid before us, even the ones worsened by careless handlers such as yourself.”

  The Prophet winced and lowered his head in shame. “For that I have no defense. I simply wanted to break the cycle and free this world of Moreg. I was mistaken to think I was strong enough to bear such a burden.”

  The pyre surged with power briefly before Rigmor responded. “No, it was your faltering, the belief in such weakness that sealed our fate. Moreg now holds the advantage and we are left scrambling to recover,” she said.

  The Prophet looked upon the pyre once more, gathering his wits to him. “The visions have called to me once more. The Crescent Moon beckons. Moreg has returned and the Dreamer is beyond his time. We must draw forth a new champion,” he said.

  “To what end?” Rigmor challenged. “Through your folly we have nothing to arm the Dreamer. Moreg would consume him easily and all hope for our world would end.”

  The Prophet shook his head. “All is not lost. Even as we speak, from the other side of the door, preparations are being made. We simply must offer as much time as we can. The Dreamer will be cast from the other side. I will right my wrong and they will not be left weaponless. I place my word and soul upon that. Moreg is far from victorious yet. Please hold to your duty and I shall remain to mine. You have my word, Rigmor. I will not fail you” he said.

  The flames flickered in annoyance. “Do you really believe in such hopes, Prophet? Do you truly believe you can absolve the sins of your past and wage such a battle again?”

  The Prophet stood, slamming a hand upon the table before him. Dust spat defiantly at the impact. “I do! And I must. Lunaria will not fall due to my sins. I am in until the last. No matter the personal cost. Even if it means my life. I owe this world that much at least,” he stated.

  The flames of the pyre flickered softly for some time and the Prophet waited in respectful silence. Rigmor was as timeless as Lunaria itself, seated deeply in knowledge beyond all that the Prophet could ever glimpse. The Prophet remembered the better times, where the two of them had even been close despite the distance of Rigmor being of two worlds. Together they had defended the light. It was the Prophet’s hope that they could do it one last time.

  At last, the flames rose again. “Very well, Prophet. I shall reach out with my power, in this world and the other. The Guardians will know the time has come. We shall call upon the stars and on destiny. Let us hope that your order is prepared,” she said.

  The Prophet nodded gratefully. “They will be. Thank you, Rigmor. You of all beings know that there are still things worth fighting for. I’ve no doubt that the forging of the Dreamer is almost complete.”

  The flames rippled again. “Then you will be displeased to know the certainty of the chosen one has been cast to shadow,” she said.

  “What do you mean?” the Prophet demanded.

  Rigmor and the flames responded instantly. “The wait has already taxed him. A lack of patience has faltered belief. This is not the way of the Dreamer. You of all people know well of the repercussions wrought of such doubt.”

  The Prophet absorbed her words. “I am sure all that is needed is more time to make it right,” he replied.

  “No. Too much is at stake for vain hoping,” countered Rigmor. “I have let your lot cast the iron long enough. The Crescent Moon cannot be met with failure again. I will help the order myself this time.”

  The Prophet trembled at the uncertainly laid out before him. “Rigmor, we must be true to the order and ways that have ensured the balance for thousands of years. We haven’t the time or ability to tempt the fates in such a way.”

  The flames roared, causing the Prophet to shield his eyes as Rigmor spoke. “The fates were cast to uncertainty the day you paved a road of darkness with good intentions! This moment, the burdens it wrought are on you now, Prophet. The time for standing is upon us. The known way is gone, and now we must forge a new path. You know this even if you choose to yet see it. You must trust in me now, for you have your own burdens to carry forth from this place.”

  The Prophet’s body stiffened as he wished to plead his case further, but the truth offered by Rigmor shattered his strength. The old man sagged his shoulders and lowered his head as he nodded. “Very well, Rigmor. I stand behind you and your decision,” he said.

  Rigmor’s voice filled with further purpose. “Then we are in agreement and the battle for Lunaria shall begin anew,” said Rigmor as the flames drew further strength. “I will call out to both worlds now, Prophet. But beware. Moreg will know and he will try to learn of your visions. His influence will try to destroy or taint those that have been offered by destiny. We must not let this come to pass. This war cannot be ended before it begins,” she said.

  The Prophet nodded to this. “I understand, and I am prepared. I will not fail you on this night,” he said.

  “Very well,” said Rigmor from the flame. “Then let us begin. Just know that once we start there is no going back from it.” To this the Prophet said nothing, only nodding for Rigmor to continue.

  The pyre within the heart of the Round Table suddenly commanded a strength that the Prophet had not seen in ages. Soon this strength surged stronger than he had ever witnessed as Rigmor revealed the power she still possessed, even between worlds. The blue flames danced and swirled as they rose, and the room was briefly given life as the Prophet shielded his eyes. Powerful magic drew upon itself as the pyre brimmed with raw, unchecked authority.

  Rigmor’s voice returned, strong enough this time to shake the very core of Camelot. “Heroes of the light, hear my call. I, Rigmor, bid you this blessing upon your heart, that you may be protected against the coming darkness. Heed my call and prepare for the storm. Stand true and trust in the light. Always the light!”

  The blue flames burst into brilliance, thrusting from the pyre and stretching out from Camelot. For the briefest moments, it could be seen from the entire span of Lunaria. And then it was gone as violently as it had emerged. Camelot was calm once more, left to a stilling silence, an exhausted pyre and an ancient Prophet regaining his shaky legs as he again stood.

  Looking about, the old man nodded. “It is done then. Destiny shall again draw our heroes as one,” he said.

  The pyre, all but spent coughed with reluctant light. “No. It has simply begun. Now the real peril can begin,” said Rigmor.

  At her words, the whole of Camelot moaned and creaked as ill winds swept against its walls. The Prophet felt a stilling chill sweep through his body as he shivered uncontrollably. Drawing his sword and reclaiming his staff, the Prophet looked about, weapons braced and ready. The great stirring of unease rising within him only increased in its intensity.

  “Brace yourself, Prophet, for Moreg now knows,” said Rigmor from the pyre. “And already he draws near.”

  “I will stand
now and face him,” said the Prophet as he allowed magic to rise again within his staff.

  “Then, we are already lost, and your failure has run its course,” said Rigmor.

  “What would you have me do?” the Prophet yelled impatiently.

  “Be still and listen, for there is another way,” replied Rigmor.

  And as the walls of Camelot shook again, the Prophet lowered his weapons, looking to Rigmor’s pyre in hopes that she had the answers that were presently eluding him.

  The Kobold’s Pond

  Ana and Elizaeth

  “Hurry up, sis! The day is wasting!” Waving over her shoulder, Elizaeth urged Ana forward. It was the first time all week that the two of them had a chance to venture outside of the gates. Liz intended to make the most of that time. As she waited for Ana, the young elf checked her quiver of arrows. In her hand, her new bow was itching to be used.

  “I’m coming, I’m coming!” Ana hollered back as she approached. The young girl looked uncomfortable in the thick cloak she was wearing. “I will never be as fast on my feet as you,” she added.

  Liz smiled at her adopted sister. “Just hold strong. We are almost deep enough into the woods to shed the cloak.”

  Ana finally caught up with Liz before stopping to catch her breath. “Finally! This thing gets heavy fast,” gasped the magical elf.

  Elizaeth gave her a playful nudge before running again. “Get a move on, silly,” she said with a chuckle.

  “Just you wait, Liz!” Ana called out before shaking her head and chasing after her swift sister.

  Speeding ahead, Elizaeth sprinted through the forest gracefully, hardly making a sound as she leaped over rocks and fallen trees. She was at home in the forest, destined to be a Ranger like her father before her. The young elf picked up on every scent and sound as she continued running. Often Liz felt more at home outside the walls of Lunamorn than within them.

  Stopping from her run to let Ana catch up again, Liz lifted her face up to the sky. The Firestar’s light had made its way through the trees and Liz welcomed its warmth. Behind her she could hear Ana racing to catch up. Liz chuckled to herself, realizing that she had tortured her sister long enough.

  In a few moments, Ana caught up with Liz finally as she hunched over, catching her breath. “Are we there yet?” she moaned.

  “I haven’t decided,” said Liz playfully.

  “Liz!” bellowed Ana.

  Liz laughed as she shook her head at Ana. “Alright, alright,” said Liz as she looked about. “We are deep enough in the woods now. You are free to be you.”

  “It’s about time,” said Ana with a grin.

  Ana then gratefully took off her thick cloak. Stretching fully, the young elf fairy unfurled her wings. As the rays of the Firestar touched the shimmering gossamer on her back, Ana sighed happily. She began to flap her wings slowly, enjoying the sensation and feeling of freedom at last.

  Fluttering her wings triumphantly, Ana flashed Liz a confident grin. “Now it’s your turn to try and keep up,” she said as she looked skyward.

  In a flash, Ana was in the air. Her wings hummed as she shot over the trees and sped deeper into the forest. Liz watched her for a moment, knowing that Ana was truly happy in that moment. Liz smiled as Ana did spins in the air before she realized she had better keep up with her sister.

  It was not easy, but Elizaeth kept pace. In all honesty, the elf enjoyed the challenge. Also, she enjoyed seeing Ana happy, for it was something that happened so little pent up inside Lunamorn. For different reasons, both enjoyed the forest. But in the end, it boiled down to the freedom it offered and being together as sisters.

  After a long spell, Ana finally circled around to rejoin Liz. Slowing her wings, the elf fairy brought herself to a rest upon the ground again. This time it was Liz who needed to catch her breath. The two exchanged a smile as Liz fetched her water skin for a drink.

  “Not bad at all there, sis. You might just be Ranger material after all,” said Ana.

  “And don’t you forget it,” said Liz as she offered the skin to Ana who graciously took a drink.

  Ana handed back the water skin before wiping her mouth off. As Liz put it away, the elf fairy could not hold her thoughts in any longer. “How long do you think you have before you have to go away?”

  Liz paused then, but covered it up as she secured the water to her belt. “Is that what’s been bothering you, Ana?” She then put her hands on her younger sister’s shoulders. “I know we haven’t had much time together. It hasn’t even been a year yet. But we still have time. I’m still young, and they don’t pick for the Rangers at my age. Now quit your worrying already. We will cross those waters when we have to. Besides, I am always going to be your sister. You may as well accept that since you are stuck with me forever.”

  Thinking on these words a moment, Ana finally smiled, offering Liz a friendly push. “You say that now, but I haven’t driven you crazy yet,” she said.

  Liz tickled Ana. “Oh, speak for yourself! Being crazy is the best way to deal with you, especially after you got lost that last time. You know how long it took me to convince our parents to let us out of Lunamorn after that?”

  “Hey, that wasn’t my fault,” countered Ana. “My wings got the best of me for a moment and I got lost.”

  Liz’s eyes narrowed. “And caught by a bunch of wolfen! It was by luck and some unsung heroes that you were brought back safely!”

  Ana shrugged. “I was in good hands all the way home. You worry too much, sis,” she said.

  “And you worry too little,” replied Liz.

  “Oh, Liz, come on!” Ana exclaimed as she threw up her hands. “It was one mistake! I promise I will be more careful and-” suddenly, Ana’s words were cut off by a scream.

  The noise was high in pitch and put both the elves on alert. Ana’s wings fluttered as Liz drew an arrow from her quiver. As sounds of a struggle rose, Liz readied her bow. The two elves listened intently, making no noise as they waited.

  “What was that?” Ana asked.

  Liz shook her head. “I don’t know, Ana. But we should get back home just the same,” she said.

  “Someone could be in trouble, Liz,” said Ana.

  “Yes, us if we keep looking for it,” said Liz impatiently. “Now keep it down and follow me!”

  “No,” said Ana as she took to the sky. “We have to find out.” Ana then sped toward the sounds of struggling.

  Liz let out a frustrated breath as she watched her little sister race through the air. Skimming gracefully through the forest, the young elf fairy made her way quickly forward. Liz had no choice but to follow as she made haste on foot after Ana. In her gut, she knew that the two of them were headed for trouble.

  Doing her best to keep pace, Liz noticed Ana slow her flight before coming to a landing. As Liz caught up, Ana hid herself behind a large tree as she looked ahead into a clearing, revealing a large pond. In a moment, Liz caught up and stood behind her, curious as to what drew them there.

  “What is it, Ana”? Liz asked as she peered at the pond in the clearing. And then Elizaeth got her answer.

  In a breath, Liz saw what Ana had seen. There before them was a majestic pond of misty blue. But before either of the sisters could enjoy its beauty, their attention was drawn to a cluster of lily fairies near the center of the pond. There the fairies stood, looking upon the bank opposite of Ana and Liz. The sisters then discovered another group shouting threats at the lily fairies. Upon seeing them, Liz’s eyes narrowed.

  “Kobolds,” growled Liz as she readied an arrow in her bow.

  Ana looked upon the kobolds intently, for never had she seen one before. The kobolds were smaller than halflings but still easily dwarfed the small fairies upon the pond waters. To Ana, they looked like little lizards or dragons on two feet with blue and gray fur. Most of the kobolds carried weapons upon tattered leather clothing and some rode upon wolves. Ana noticed a larger kobold at the center shrouded in a blue cloak. It was this kobold who was
yelling at the little lily fairies.

  “Winged devils,” yelled the kobold as he pointed toward the center of the lake, “your time upon these waters is at end. The kelpie that once protected this pond is gone and with it, your security. I, Razdon, claim these waters for my clan and offer you one chance to be gone before my brethren and I make a meal out of you!”

  Ana could hear many of the little fairies gasp before one walked a few steps at the kobolds. “Razdon, protection or not, there is plenty of waters here for us all. Please hear me and know that I am Pellan. We mean you no harm and believe we can live together in harmony. Please see reason, for it is all that we ask,” said the little fairy.

  Many of the kobolds laughed at this before Razdon spoke again. “Share? We kobolds share nothing with little flying bugs. Your offer is beneath us. Now leave this place before you regret trying my patience,” said the kobold leader.

  Pellan sighed but did not budge. “Kobolds are bigger and stronger yes, but we are at home upon these waters. I am afraid that we have the advantage here. Please do not make a fight where one is not needed,” said Pellan.

  Razdon laughed himself at this. “You have no such advantage and now you try my patience,” said the kobold leader as he reached down upon the ground to pick up a staff covered with barren branches. “Now face the fury of Razdon, leader of the Steelgrip Kobold clan!” Razdon then aimed his staff toward the fairies on the pond.

  Ana watched as Razdon’s staff began to glow. As it did, the waters before him turned to ice. Soon this ice surged and rushed toward Pellan and the little lily fairies. The fairies began to scatter from the approaching ice. Only Pellan held his ground as he raised his simple wooden staff.

  The magic of Pellan’s staff began to stir as the ice shards enfolded upon him. The little lily fairy’s spell rose not a moment too soon, shielding him from the ice shards. The shards roared past Pellan across the span of the pond. The rest of the fairies continued to flee as the kobolds began to run around the pond to give chase.