Death of a Moon
Soft drops of water started falling from the sky, gently hitting flower petals and releasing their sweet fragrance. Saecyl watched as the animals in the meadow sought their refuge in the trees. But not him, no, he loved the rain. He quickly stripped off his clothes and stepped away from the large tree. Raindrops caressed his skin like a warm shower. He could feel each drop separately and loved it. Closing his eyes, he lifted his face towards the sky and spread out his arms. He turned around in circles before he let himself fall backwards in to the tall grass. The grass felt like a soft bed underneath his naked body, and after sleeping on solid rock and dirt for the last few days, it was liked he had died and gone to heaven.
“I could stay here forever.” He whispered to himself. But he knew that would never be a possibility. It was written in the stars that he had to travel until he would find that one thing. The one thing that was drawing him, the one thing he knew nothing about, the one thing he had to find no matter what the cost. He had set out after the dreams had come more frequently. When the dreams first started, he had asked one of the elders for clarification, Lady Lana had looked at the stars for him and had told him that it was his destiny to keep traveling. He had to go to bed each night, sleeping on the ground because it would harden his spirit. Every morning when the sun came up he would have to get up and bath himself to cleanse his soul and he would travel until he reached the place he was meant to be. Lady Lana couldn’t tell him where it was, only that the planets would align and the moon would die.
“The death of the moon. I still don’t know what she meant by that.” Saecyl sat back up and looked down at his hands. The rain was coming down hard now and it was getting colder. He decided to continue his journey towards the north and find a place for the night. He jumped up and walked back to his clothes, taking the towel from his backpack. Perhaps he should find something to eat as well, since he hadn’t eaten in three days. Not that that mattered to him, he had been on the road for years and he had lived on tiny scraps of food for a few days, when he had no money to buy food or when food had been scarce. But now he was getting hungry and he needed to replenish his water. As quickly as he could, he toweled off and got dressed again. Thunder crashed through the sky. The gods seemed to be angry today. Lightning struck a boulder not far from where Saecyl had been standing. The boulder cracked and split in two. Saecyl was in aw by the terrible display of power from the gods.
“I hope I haven’t done something to offend them.” He mumbled to himself. When he was dressed again, he walked over to the boulder to inspect it; years on the road had taught him rocks could produce fire rocks, which would help him create fire. He still remembered his first nights in the cold, his hands covered in blisters because he couldn’t rub the sticks together for fire. On the fourth day he had smashed a rock against another one in anger and the sparks that came from that collision had started a fire in the dry grass. He had quickly used that to make camp, first containing the fire with some rocks, so that it couldn’t spread. From then on he had carried around some of the rocks in his backpack, but they had run out and he had been grateful it had been summer. But some nights up in the mountains had still been cold. Upon arriving at the rock, he noticed that it was almost hollow inside. He peered over the side to look inside it and found a strange material. The material was black as the night and felt warm, but hard as… well, as rock.