Where the Moon Hides

In the tucked-away village of Eldermoor cradled between whispering forests and the jagged edges of the sea-cliffs the moon was more than just a pale ornament in the sky. To the people there, it was a guardian. Every night it spilled silver light over the crooked rooftops and cobblestone streets, lighting the path for lovers’ quiet walks and shepherding children’s dreams.

But once a year, on the eve of the autumn equinox, it disappeared. No eclipse. No clouds. It simply… slipped away, leaving the heavens empty and black. The villagers called this night the Hiding.

Some said the moon retreated to a secret realm to bathe in new light. Others swore it curled up in the roots of the oldest tree in the forest, safe until dawn. Most were content to guess and wonder but not Elara.

At twelve, Elara had more questions than anyone had answers for. She was the daughter of Eldermoor’s herbalist, with curls that refused to be tamed and a curiosity that matched. Years earlier, fever had taken her mother, and in the hollow left behind, the moon had become her quiet companion. She liked to think it watched over her as she slept, just as her mother once had.

So when the equinox crept near and the villagers began whispering, Where does the moon hide?, Elara decided she would be the one to find out.

On the night of the Hiding, she packed a lantern, a pouch of dried herbs for protection, and her father’s weather-stained map of the wild lands. With a final glance at the sleeping village, she slipped into the forest as twilight faded.

The path wound between ancient trees whose leaves whispered secrets she couldn’t quite catch. An owl called somewhere above, and without the moon’s steady glow, the stars seemed cold and far away. Legends drifted through her mind crystal caverns, glowing groves, hidden hollows but her father’s map pointed toward the Whispering Cliffs, where waves smashed themselves against the rocks in endless fury.

The journey was not kind. Brambles caught her cloak, shadows leapt at the edges of her vision, and her legs ached from the climb. She was beginning to wonder if the moon even wanted to be found when a sudden gust snuffed her lantern. Darkness swallowed her whole.

Her breath quickened until she heard it.

A soft hum, almost too faint to notice. A lullaby. One her mother used to sing. Heart pounding, she followed the sound until she found a trail hidden beneath a curtain of ivy. It led to a narrow cleft in the cliffside, faintly aglow from within.

She squeezed through and stopped, breath caught in her throat.

She stood in a cavern bathed in otherworldly blue light. Bioluminescent fungi clung to the walls like constellations, and at the center lay a pool so still it looked like glass. But the reflection on its surface wasn’t the cavern, nor the stars above. It was a swirling, silver mist and suspended within it, like a pearl cradled in an unseen hand, was the moon’s light itself.

It wasn’t hiding from the world. It was resting.

The air shifted, and from the mist stepped a figure tall, ageless, and radiant. Their skin gleamed like polished stone, their eyes deep and dark as the night sky.

“Child,” the voice echoed softly, like wind through reeds, “why have you come to the moon’s refuge?”

Elara swallowed her fear. “Because I miss its light. My village is afraid without it… and I needed to know it’s safe.”

A gentle smile touched the figure’s lips. “The moon hides not out of fear, but wisdom. It retreats to heal, drawing strength from the earth’s hidden wonders. Like you, it grieves… and it renews.”

With a wave of their hand, the pool shimmered. Elara saw her mother beneath the moonlight, her laughter ringing clear. She saw the villagers dancing in festivals past, and glimpses of bright days yet to come.

Tears pricked her eyes, but they were warm, not heavy. She understood now the Hiding was not an ending, but a pause. Even the brightest light needs time to rest.

“May I tell them?” she asked quietly.

“You may share the truth,” the guardian said, “but let them seek it in their own way. Mystery keeps wonder alive.”

When dawn neared, the moon’s glow lifted from the pool, rising skyward. By the time Elara made the long walk home, the first silver light was spilling over Eldermoor. The villagers awoke to a full, brilliant moon, brighter than they’d seen all year.

Elara kept the cavern a secret, but in her stories, she left hints just enough for the curious to try their own journey. From that year on, the Hiding became a night of quiet hope, a reminder that even the greatest lights sometimes step away… so they can return, stronger than before.

And though the villagers still asked, Where does the moon hide?, Elara knew the answer.

It hid in the place where light learns to heal.