When the Moon Refused to Rise

The night the moon refused to rise, wolves howled themselves hoarse beneath a sky as black as spilled ink. And in the silent palace halls, Princess Leora realized that the darkness wasn’t just outside—it was growing inside her, too.

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No one in Eldoria could recall a night without the moon. For three nights now, the sky remained an empty vault, its stars sharp as shards of glass but casting no comfort. Crops withered under the unnatural darkness. Fishermen refused to sail. The tides themselves fell into chaos, surging and receding without rhythm.

But it was the wolves who suffered most.

Leora stood at her tower window, listening to their mournful cries wafting over the forest like ghostly music. Each note tugged at something primal within her chest—a yearning she’d spent her life trying to deny.

“Your Highness,” said Sir Alric, bowing low behind her. “The council awaits you.”

Leora turned. She wore silver embroidery on her cloak, each swirl meant to honor the moon goddess, Selene. But tonight, it felt like a lie. The embroidery caught the torchlight, glinting like chains.

“I’m coming,” she murmured.

---

In the royal council chamber, panic crackled like dry leaves. Nobles argued over offerings and rituals, their voices echoing off marble walls. Priests insisted the goddess was angered. Astronomers claimed a celestial anomaly. Traders worried over famine if crops continued to fail.

At the head of the table, King Hadrien, Leora’s father, slumped in exhaustion.

“My lords,” he croaked, “Eldoria cannot endure another night without the moon. Has no one a solution?”

Leora swallowed, feeling the secret she’d buried since childhood pressing against her ribs.

“Father,” she said. “I think…I know where the moon has gone.”

Every face turned to her. In that instant, the chamber seemed to shrink, trapping her under a thousand suspicious eyes.

King Hadrien frowned. “Leora, what nonsense is this?”

She took a trembling breath. “The moon isn’t merely a stone in the sky. It’s a gate. A doorway to the Spirit Realm. And it’s been imprisoned.”

The chamber erupted in disbelief. Some nobles scoffed. A few crossed themselves protectively. But Hadrien’s gaze hardened.

“And how,” he asked slowly, “could you possibly know this?”

Leora hesitated. But there was no time left for secrets.

“Because I carry the blood of the Moonwolves,” she confessed. “Mother was one of them.”

A stunned silence fell. Moonwolves—the mythical people able to slip between human and wolf form—were thought extinct for centuries.

Hadrien’s face drained of color. “Your mother…was a beast?”

“She was a guardian,” Leora shot back. “And she taught me to listen to the moon. It’s calling for help.”

Sir Alric stepped forward. “Your Majesty, we cannot let the princess undertake any mad quest—”

“I’m not asking,” Leora interrupted. “I’m going. Or the kingdom will die in darkness.”

Her father stared at her a long time. Then, with trembling fingers, he removed the silver crescent medallion from around his neck and pressed it into her palm.

“Then may Selene guide you.”

---

That night, Leora rode alone into the Shadowed Woods. The trees were giant pillars shrouded in mist. She dismounted and knelt upon a bed of moss, clutching the crescent medallion.

“Mother,” she whispered. “Show me the way.”

A sudden breeze rustled the leaves, carrying a voice as soft as moonlight.

“The moon is chained by the Night Devourer. Find the Mirror Pool.”

Leora rose, heart pounding. She pushed deeper into the woods, guided by an invisible pull, until she stumbled into a clearing. Before her lay a pool as still as glass, reflecting a sky where no moon hung.

She knelt beside the water.

“Spirit of the moon,” she pleaded, “why have you forsaken us?”

The pool shimmered. A silvery figure emerged—a woman robed in light, her hair flowing like liquid silver.

“I am Selene,” the spirit intoned. “The Night Devourer binds me with chains of fear and hatred. As long as humans fear the wild within themselves, my light cannot shine.”

Leora clenched her fists. “Then how do I free you?”

Selene’s eyes glowed. “By accepting your true self. Only a heart unafraid to be both beast and human can shatter the chains.”

The water quaked. From the shadows rose the Night Devourer—a monstrous thing of smoke and snarling fangs. Its eyes blazed red as it lunged at Leora.

“You belong in cages, beast-blood!” it hissed.

Fear shrieked through Leora’s veins. For years, she’d hidden her wolf heritage, terrified of scorn. But in the monster’s hatred, she saw a reflection of her own shame.

She took a deep breath.

And let go.

Her human shape melted away, fur bursting along her skin, bones reshaping into a graceful silver wolf. She threw back her head and howled.

Light erupted from her throat—a pure, silver beam. The Night Devourer screamed as the light seared its smoky flesh. With a final shriek, it dissolved into nothingness.

Selene touched Leora’s wolf muzzle.

“You have embraced all that you are.”

In the sky overhead, the moon ignited, blazing into full light. Its glow spilled through the forest, silvering every leaf and petal. The wolves began howling again—but this time, in triumph.

---

By dawn, Leora returned to the palace. She stood before the astonished court, no longer ashamed of the wolfish glimmer in her eyes.

King Hadrien stared at his daughter and, after a long silence, opened his arms.

“You saved us,” he whispered.

Leora smiled. “No, Father. I only stopped hiding.”

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Moral of the story:

When we deny who we truly are, we shroud our world in darkness. But when we accept every part of ourselves—even the wildest parts—we set both ourselves and others free.