The Demon in the Moon

The child tore through the woods as fast as their short legs could carry them. They ran with no clear destination in mind, all they knew was they needed to get away, far away. Anywhere was safer than what lay behind them.

The child’s ears were filled with the harsh, ragged sound of their breathing, the loud drum of their heartbeat, and the rush of cool winter wind against their face. Still, they ran. For in the distance echoed the yips and growls of the Celestial Wolves in pursuit.

Each desperate gasp for air burned through their lungs like fire. Blood flowed freely from the multiple wounds scattered across their small body. Each step sent a jolt of pain up their ankle. This pain, while sharp and agonizing, was nothing compared to the gaping wound in their heart. A chasm left from watching their family be torn limb from limb for offending the Gods. What offense, the child knew not.

The tears streaming down the child’s face were swept away by the wind in an almost gentle caress. The child looked up at the sky in confusion, for surely the Gods had forsaken them. This moment’s distraction would be their fatal mistake, for that brief moment of looking away from the forest floor was enough for the child to overlook a large, raised root.

The child fell, crying out at the snap of their arm when they hit the ground. The Celestial Wolves howled as they drew closer to their prey. The child lay where they had fallen, clutching their broken and bleeding arm to their chest. They sobbed as they resigned themself to their fate.

For all their life, the child had lived at the edge of the forest with their family. Until this night, they had known nothing but peace. Their days were spent tending the garden with their mother and playing in the river and fields with their siblings. The child was their mother’s seventh blessing, the Gods had blessed her with six other children before them.

As they awaited their death, longing to be reunited with their family, the child once again wondered why. Why had this happened? How had this happened? Their mother had been devout and blessed by the Gods seven times over. Yet the Heavenly Father had turned against them, going so far as to punish them with death by wolves.

The child had been good. They followed their mother and siblings in practicing the old ways. They lived as the gods instructed and always obeyed their mother. They even followed the rules they did not understand, like the ones about never seeking out the townsfolk or going into the dark part of the forest where the iron wood trees grew. The child had never questioned them. No matter how much they burned with curiosity. No matter how the shadows of the ironwoods called to them. The child always obeyed.

The howls came again, much closer than before. If the child had bothered to turn their head, they would have seen the glow of torchlight in the distance steadily getting brighter as the Heavenly Knights closed in on them.

The child did not bother to turn their head. Instead, they spent their final moments staring up at the stars that once filled them with such wonder and cursing the Gods they had once praised. It was a beautiful night, harsh winds aside. Despite the moon's face being hidden, the sky was clear and bright with the light of a thousand stars.

The child had always loved the moon, fascinated by the stories of the fallen goddess turned demon trapped inside. They would like to think that the demon might have helped them, had it not been the night the Gods stole her sight. At least the child could pretend that had the demon in the moon been able to see their plight, she would have helped. That she could not was once again the fault of the Gods.

The child turned away from the sky, looking towards the woods that had always called to them. The dark shadows of the ancient and giant iron wood trees were closer than the child had ever seen. In their flight from the Gods’ chosen warriors, they had nearly crossed into the dark part of the forest.

As death closed in upon them, they were overcome with regret that they had never explored the shadowy woods that seemed to beckon them. Rather than the dark foreboding the child heard the woods invoked in others, the shadows lured them, inviting them inside.

The child heard the soft mournful cry of a raven and smiled. At least on this terrible night there was some creature who was sad for them, even if it was only a raven. The raven cried out again and time stood still as it sang.

A hiss came from near their ankle and jolted the child from their melancholy. The child watched in quiet fascination as a stone viper coiled around their injured ankle. The snake continued to wind itself fully around the child’s limb, forming a living brace, and then looked up at the child with warmth and intelligence in its eyes. The child had but a moment to be surprised when another hiss came, this time from near their shoulder.

The child’s eyes grew wider still in wonder as another snake, this one with scales of deep crimson and emerald, wound its way around their body. The snake wrapped around the child’s injured arm and torso, binding the limb to their body. It then settled its head on the child’s shoulder and joined its companion in staring into the child’s bewildered eyes.

The raven continued its cry and the very root that had caused the child to stumble rose from the earth, cradling them and lifting them to their feet. The raven cried out once more and though it was nothing more than a loud squawk, the child knew the raven was telling them to run. The stillness that had filled the air was broken and the howl of wolves filled the child’s ears once more.

The child ran. Where as before they had run with no direction, now they ran straight for the dark shadows of the millennia-old iron woods. The pain from their injuries persisted, but with the aid of the snakes their arm jolted less and their ankle was supported.

They ran faster than before. Something, someone, wanted to the child to live - had sent them help when all else had forsaken them. The child refused to let that goodwill be wasted. The wolves, the warriors, the pain - all was washed away by their single-minded focus on reaching the trees where the raven cries had come from.

The child did not hear the whoosh of the arrow until it was embedded in their shoulder. The child stumbled, but kept running. The raven cried out and the child knew they were so close. If they could hold onto their strength for just a bit longer, run just a bit further, they would be safe.

An arrow whizzed past the child’s face, grazing their cheek.

“Almost there,” the child strained, reaching out with their unbound hand as though they could grab the shadows and draw themselves closer.

Then the child was falling. Pain blossomed from their back and legs where arrows met their mark. The last thing the child saw before slipping into unconsciousness was the raven fluttering to the ground before them and looking at them with eyes much too sad.

“Don’t be sad,” the child whispered as they were claimed by darkness and the world fell away.

* * * * *

What a precious child. The raven looked upon the tiny mortal at her feet. She cared not for the wolves and their riders. The child would be safe now for the Heavenly Father had no power in this part of the woods.

The raven bent down towards the child and licked at the blood trickling from a wound on their forehead. With the blood came a rush of power as a centuries-old curse was broken. As she reached her wings towards the sky, she grew larger and larger still, feathers giving way to black opalescent scales until she returned to her true form.

No longer was she bound to the small and weak form of a raven. She was a dragon, one of the oldest creatures to walk the worlds and the last of her kind. Or so she had thought.

With great care as to not further exacerbate the youth’s already extensive wounds, the dragon lifted the child to rest in the hollow of her neck. The trees parted around her as she moved deeper into the iron wood grove.

She turned her gaze to the dark of the moon. Soon we shall be free, my queen.

* * * * *

The child was floating, surrounded by endless darkness.

Where were they? How long had they been here? How had they gotten here? They knew not.

Where was the pain? Weren’t they hurting before? Why had they been in pain again?

They were bodiless now, an untethered soul. They remembered being punished by the Gods. Was that what this was? Was this what happened when sinners died? Were they doomed to this solitary darkness for eternity?

My sweet child. A raspy voice echoed across the great expanse of nothingness. You have slept long enough. It is time to awaken...