Thursday, August 4, 2011

Shadow of the Moon



Once there was a young sorceress who lived in a tower by the sea. Using her arts she learned to speak with all manner of things, including the animals and the trees, and even the Sun, which she took great pride in. Her conversations with the Sun were her favourite, since her pride was matched only by the Sun which rose above all. She found the Sun to be quite beautiful, and before long her heart was stolen by the Sun's intensity, but the heat and beauty would always leave, and the Sun would never stay the night. Forsaken night and night again, the sorceress grew anxious, and sought a way to make the Sun stay with her.

The Sun was enticed to venture near the sea one day by the Sorceress's promises of a gift. The sorceress grabbed the Sun with all her might and pulled it down to the water, but the Sun saw her deception and sent its reflection to the sea instead.

Abandoned and distraught the reflection tried to leap into the sky. Fire and steam erupted towards the sky as it sunk into the silken waters.
That night the Sun set, but its reflection did not follow.

Pleased with herself, the sorceress swam out to meet the Sun's smouldering reflection. She found its flames extinguished, and its colour had bled into the lake. She sat dejected atop the cold dead star; now nothing more then a pebble in a pond.

Unsatisfied with her trophy, she returned to her tower to seek refuge in ancient books, looking for a spell that might help her tame the Sun she longed for. She studied all night, and fell asleep as the sun rose.
The orange-pink shafts of light stained her eyelids as she woke. Outside the sunset spilled itself on the golden waters. Her heart sang like a tiny bell at the glory, and broke; when it set.

Turning away from the starry sky, a diffused glow caught her eye. The sunken sun glowed softly from its cradle. Out of disgust she drew the shutters, blocking out the vestigial stone that whispered of her failure.

Day after day she rose and set with the sun, calling out to the star to join her, but despite her attempts the daylight refused her invitation. Time and time again she was left with nothing but her iniquity to distract her thoughts.

Scowling out at the at the pale abomination, her abhorrence grew greater each night, until finally driving her to fever. She swam out to the great orb and climbed atop to stamp and scream. She howled of the sun's injustice, and ground her heels into the globe's surface.

When from exhaustion she could no longer stride the surface, she settled to sit and scream herself hoarse. Croaks subsided into dry sobs, which too fled her. Bitterly she accepted that her great power was ineffectual against the burning star. She had been callow and childish to think she could ensnare the sun. Recalling the flames and steam, she apologized for being the cause of its pain and now-wretched existence.

The rock listened and forgave her.

From then the Sorceress avoided the Sun's haughty glare. Instead she made her peace with her mishap, and studied late into the night, all the while the glittering sphere kept her company. Growing used the the dim light, she could no longer gaze at the morning sun as she once did. The blaze seared her eyes and condemned her to darkness.

And yet, somehow, this was preferred.

She became gracious to the silvery light, for its quiet understanding and absolution. Over time the amity grew to affection, which in turn gave way to subtle enchantment. Without knowing it, she had healed her broken heart, and fallen in love again.
And this time her love was returned.

Pressing against the glossy surface she curled into a ball and slept, her warmth impressing upon it. The stars peered down and saw the sea smiling up at them. Admiring more closely they found a bright crescent hung in a body of reflected stars. So fitting did it seem that they begged the company of such resplendence. Too concerned with letting the sorceress rest, the sun's lost trinket did not reply. However, the sorceress was not as deep asleep as she was thought to be.

The next night she swam out to her dear friend with an ancient book held atop her head. Laying a tender hand on the grey gem she began her incantation. This beautiful mistake had illuminated her faults, her nights, and her heart. In her vain attempts to submerge the recalcitrant sun, she had created something ethereal and benevolent. Her dearest friend began to stir, then lift. Though it broke her heart, she watched the moon rise for the very first time.

Because love is not ownership, love frees.

And when that love is returned, it reflects on the world around us.

When the Orb realized what the Sorceress had done, it was thankful and loved her even more for it, vowing to share this gift of freedom by stealing away with her beyond the sea and saving a night every month just for her, and his reflection was left behind for her when the stars danced around him.

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