Cora waved her hands in front of Aria, tracing a circle before she moved her hands in the shape of what the girl could only guess to be a bird… or perhaps it was a mouse?
The woman appeared to notice her confusion, and flashed her a smile.
“It’s a prayer.”
Aria tilted her head, questions only building.
“To The Matron,” Cora explained, “just a simple request that she grant you her protection.”
“One that you’ve done every day,” a gruff voice said.
Erik entered the room, a coat in his arms. Like most of her clothes, it was of the couple’s own, just altered enough to fit her. They, along with Jahora and the others entreated the rest of the town to provide them with clothes that were more fitting, but the townsfolk either ignored them or outright denied their requests. That did not deter the couple from providing Aria with as much clothing as they could, though she could not help but feel a growing sense of guilt with each new piece of their wardrobe.
“Someone has to,” Cora countered, “need to make up for lost time,” she smiled at Aria, “it’s what she deserves.”
Aria smiled back.
“Right now, she needs a coat,” Erik said as he approached the girl. As he held it out to her, the tavernkeep could read the remorse on her face.
“Don’t you worry about this,” he said, “consider it a redemption of lost opportunity,” he placed the coat in Aria’s hands and ruffled her hair, “not that the cold will bother you, but I’m not about to send a girl out in this weather without proper clothing.”
Cora helped Aria put the coat on, she looked the girl over as she did, giving a sigh as she rubbed her chin.
“It truly is a shame, a proper dress would look stunning on you,” she said.
“That it would,” Erik agreed, “but we can imagine such things while we clean up,’ he patted the girl on the shoulder, “Aria here has other business to attend to.”
Cora sighed again, “There’s not even much to clean nowadays, we can take one night off.”
Erik clicked his teeth, “A lazy day will lead into a lazy week, you know that.”
Cora narrowed her eyes, giving her usual kindly expression a dour look, “You’re one to talk. Who was it that had to wake you up this morning?”
Erik laughed, “Fair enough, but that doesn’t change what we have to do.”
Cora pressed her lips thin, but raised her hands in belief.
Erik made sure Aria’s coat was buttoned up and turned her towards the door, “They’re waiting for you just outside.”
She nodded and walked towards the exit, but before she opened it she turned back to the couple. They wore smiles on their faces, but she could see that both of them held the desire to go with her.
“I’ll take you there,” she said, “next time.”
Their expressions brightened.
Erik nodded, “Next time.”
With that, she left the room.
___
Aria sat at the center of the clearing. Though nothing was held within, it was a special place to her. It was the first thing she had stumbled onto when she started her wanderings around town, and in that moment it became a refuge for her, a hideaway that could keep her away from the judgemental eyes that lay within Redhaven and salvation from the cramped dwellings that she called her home. It was here that she ran that day, here where they pursued her.
Where she felt warmth that brought tears to her eyes.
Unlike that day, however, she’d asked them to bring her to this clearing. The night sky was clear, and she knew that the twin moons would be in full display. She was always captivated by them, staring up at them even when she’d been cursed with the Cold. At that time, she would glimpse their shapes through the hole in her ceiling, finding a muted peace in their pale light. When she’d see them outside, through the canopy of the forest, however, comfort turned to captivation. She would watch the large pale body of the greater moon glide across the sky as the smaller red one trailed after it, a ruby that chased a pearl. The pearl, however, held a crack along its face, one that trailed from its top to bottom. Many would call such a thing a flaw, but it had only captivated Aria more. If such a fractured form could keep such a sure course, then there could be hope for one as broken as her. A childish notion, one that a deep, distant part of her recognized as a naive hope, but one that she held onto regardless.
That hope was soon answered, but even in her new comforts Aria did not forget her first one, and sought to share it with those that had given her warmth, given her true shelter.
Given her a name.
She didn’t know how Jahora and the others would respond to the sight. That distant part of her told her they would simply find it pretty and move on, but within her heart she hoped that maybe they could just share the comforts of the moons together.
Bickering was not expected.
“I’m just saying, I don’t think Aria needs to know the historical background of a princess trapped in a tower,” Leaf said in a guarded tone, “It’s a bit heavy, don’t you think?”
“Nonsense!” Elly exclaimed, “Such context enriches the experience.”
“No it bloody does not!” Leaf yelled back, “Maybe if you were trying to put her to sleep.”
Elly crossed her arms, “I’m sure she was properly entertained.”
Aria did not mention the heaviness that she felt to her eyelids.
Leaf rubbed the bridge of his nose, “Your father is a bard, how are you so bad at this.”
“It could not have been that poor, right Helbram?” she turned to the man in question.
Helbram, currently out of his armor and leaning against a tree, raised his hands, “I refuse to be brought into this conversation.”
Elly looked to Jahora, a hint of desperation in her expression.
The smaller woman, who had stayed next to Aria, gave an awkward smile.
“Perhaps we should discuss this further some other time,” she said, “I doubt Aria brought us here to listen to us argue.”
She hadn’t, but the girl did admit the sight of it did give her the impulse to giggle. She held it at bay though, for the sake of Elly’s pride.
Her efforts were in vain, however, for the scholar took her friends’ avoidance as agreement to Leaf’s argument and fell into a defeated slouch.
She righted herself up soon after and pointed at Leaf, “Let’s see you try then.”
“Oh I’m bloody awful,” Leaf admitted in a dull voice, “No need to let you suffer that,” he grinned, “there’s been enough shame this night anyhow.”
Elly frowned, but just let out a defeated sigh as she joined Helbram towards the edge of the clearing.
“Maybe I should give it a try,” Jahora suggested, “It has been sometime, I admit, but I still remember a few tales I used to tell my sisters when we were children.”
“I don’t see why not,” Helbram said, “Is that fine with you, Aria?”
The girl turned to Jahora and smiled, “Yes it is”
The Mage clapped her hands, “Well then, I think I have just the thing,” she walked up to the moss covered log that sat towards the edge of the clearing and sat on it, tapping the spot next to her. Aria followed and sat down with Jahora, her attention wholly on the Mage as she kept her eyes closed while rubbing her chin in contemplation.
She was not sure why the group had decided to start telling her stories when they arrived at the clearing. She did notice the party casting glances at the trees on occasion, but for the most part they focused solely on her. Though it was not part of her plan, she welcomed their attention and their attempts at storytelling. There was a sense of genuine earnestness behind their actions, and it filled her with the same warmth that she’d felt when meeting them here before.
Jahora’s eyes opened, “Right, if I remember the tale begins like this…”
She cleared her throat, “Long ago, there was once a pair of adventurers, a Knight by the name of Arthur and a wizard name of Clyde.”
Aria did not recognize the names, but there was a slight reverence to Jahora’s tone that made her interested.
“No different than any other adventurers, really. Driven by the mystery, the challenge of the world around them, they set out from their homes and set out on countless adventures. One quest, in particular, however, would grant them their place in history,” Jahora continued, letting the inflection of her voice rise and fall at such a pace that Aria could not help but listen.
“The beginnings of such a quest, however, were quite mundane, for the duo were simply walking on the road when they happened to stumble upon an old man. He was injured, and, caring soul that Arthur was, the Knight offered him aid, which the elderly man took heartedly. Clyde, always the more cautious one, questioned the old man’s origins, noting that the man’s injuries were claw marks on his back.”
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Jahora spread her hands, “Large claw marks,”
Aria felt a shiver trail down her spine.
“The old man said that he’d just escaped from a Drake that had occupied the nearby fortress, a fearsome beast by the name of Garroc,” she hooked her hands like claws and made a fierce expression.
The girl stifled a laugh.
Jahora noticed and gave Aria a smirk before cleared her throat once more, “The elderly man told the duo that he and others had been bound to Garroc’s will, forced to fortify the dilapidated building in his name, and under the Drake’s watch it had been granted a new title,” she made a dramatic flourish, “The Citadel of Despair.”
Leaf snorted, “That’s a bit on the nose don’t you-”
He coughed as Helbram elbowed him in the ribs.
Aria, wholly invested in Jahora’s tale, only barely noticed the action out of the corner of her eye.
“The old man pleaded with the adventurers, asked them to rescue his family. Arthur, of course, was all for helping, but Clyde was still skeptical. For you see, Drakes, while not Dragons, are quite powerful beasts, and for an old man to outrun such a creature, alive no less, was quite convenient. The Wizard cautioned his friend, said the old man’s words were likely a trap. However, he knew his friend well, and when Arthur chose to help the old man, Clyde could only go with his partner to the Citadel. The old man pointed them in the direction of the fortress, and, after ensuring the man was properly treated, they set off.”
“It took less than a day to arrive at the Citadel,” Jahora continued, “And when they arrived they were greeted by a mishmash of stone strapped to the bones of an old fortress. Where it was formidable in size, it lacked in structure, something that Clyde was quick to notice. The Wizard did manage to convince his friend to be more cautious in their approach, and rather than charge into the fortress sword swinging, he accepted to sneak into the Citadel through one of its upper entrances. With a spell, the wizard and the Knight leap to the highest point of the fortress, and snuck inside.”
Jahora’s voice took a darker tone. Aria could feel dread building in her chest.
“Inside, they could see the Drake’s slaves, see all the men and women who were forced to build the beast’s ramshackle castle. Their suffering was clear, and it took much urging from Clyde to keep Arthur at bay. Strong as his friend was, they would need every advantage they could get against such a foe as the Drake. So they continued their infiltration, searching for any sign of the beast’s lair.”
“They didn’t try to save the people?” Aria asked.
Jahora shook her head, “As much as Arthur wanted to, Clyde advised against it. The Wizard cautioned the Knight that any such actions may endanger the others before they could get to them. Out of caution, they kept themselves hidden to the Drake’s slaves, and, after some time, managed to locate the beast’s lair.”
Jahora spread her arms out again.
“There they saw Garroc, resting within the deepest parts of the Citadel. The Drake was large, resting its fat belly amongst a hoard of spoils it took from both the fortress and the people it had enslaved.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Leaf tilt his head.
“Don’t dragons rest on their treasure?”
Elly shook her head, “A common misconception. Dragons, with the obvious difference of their much larger bodies and possessing wings that Drakes do not, tend to be more solitary creatures, seeking dwellings away from civilization rather than surround themselves with its spoils. Given their similar appearances, older tales mix up the two quite often, which has led to confusion even to this day.”
Leaf rubbed his chin, “I see, I admit I did not expect to learn the difference this way,” he snorted, “the more you know I suppose.”
Jahora’s friends went silent and waited for her to continue.
The mage nodded and resumed her tale, “Arthur flew into a rage upon seeing the beast resting so contently while others suffered in his stead. Before Clyde could calm his friend, the knight brandished his sword and charged the beast, but Garroc was not actually sleeping.
Aria’s heart sank as dread filled Jahora’s voice.
“The Drake let loose a torrent of fire, its flames so hot that as it washed over the Knight, not even dust remained.”
The girl gasped.
“At least, that is what the beast thought had happened,” Jahora broke into a grin, “He was quite surprised to find Arthur standing some distance away, completely unharmed. Garroc loosed another gout of flame at Arthur, and once again the Knight was gone, only to reappear further away.”
Aria tilted her head, confusion replacing the fear that overtook her.
“Twas all a ruse, you see,” Jahora said in a chipper voice, “both Arthur and Clyde knew the beast would sense their presence if they got close, so the Wizard cast an illusion to not only draw the beast’s attention, but to drive him into a state of rage,” she crossed her arms and gave a smug smile, “Afterall, there is little better in the way of enraging such prideful foe than to make a mockery of its power.”
Jahora leaned in, and Aria mimicked her.
“The two revealed themselves, and Garroc, consumed by his rage, gave chase. Having navigated the citadel so carefully, the duo led the beast through the fortress on a path where they knew there were no people. Garroc, having grown so large, could barely keep up with the men as he chased them through his castle. He eventually caught up with them at the citadel’s gate, a structure that was only partially restored through the efforts of his slaves.”
Jahora held her hands up, holding one in the shape of a claw and bouncing the other.
“Arthur taunted Garroc, called him a coward for hiding behind so many others,” she moved the claw towards the bouncing hand, “the beast, angered at the provocation, charged at Arthur, but in his blind rage did not anticipate his prey would bite back,” she pressed her hand against the claw, “The Knight drew his sword and in a single slash,” she flicked the claw away, “cut out the drake’s eye.”
Aria clenched her fist, and, upon finding no further space to lean in, stood up from the log.
“Garroc howled in pain, thrashing about as he suffered the wound, but this was not the end,” she held her hand over the claw, “Arthur fled in the beast’s confusion, but as he did Clyde cast one final spell,” she smacked her hand on top of the claw, “one that collapsed the gate right on top of Garroc.”
The claw fell limp.
“When the dust was clear, Garroc was no more,” she let her hands fall.
“What of Arthur and Clyde?” Aria asked, her tone both fearful and curious.
Jahora smiled, “They lived, and after making sure that the Drake was truly fallen, freed the people within the citadel. The people praised them, called them Arthur the Brave and Clyde the Wise.”
“And then?”
Jahora smiled, “And then, their adventures continued, for this is just one of many tales of Arthur and Clyde.”
Aria sat back down on the log with an excited hop, “Can you tell me more?”
Jahora giggled, “Later, I think there is another with a story to tell.”
She looked to Helbram, who quirked an eyebrow back.
“I do not think I could do as good a job as you,” he smiled, “it has been quite some time since I have heard tales of Arthur and Clyde.”
“Then consider it repayment,” Jahora said with a satisfied nod, “for treating you to a dose of nostalgia.”
He chuckled, “I suppose that is fair,” he walked over to the log and switched places with Jahora. The smaller woman gave Aria a hug before going to her friends at the tree. The girl looked up at Helbram as he took a seat, eyes still filled with wonder after experiencing Jahora’s story. He snorted upon seeing her expression and ruffled her hair.
Helbram rubbed his chin, “Now, what story to tell…”
As the man contemplated, Aria’s eyes wandered back to the sky, looking at the moons above. They seemed brighter this night, and in her current state she found herself captivated by them all the more. Helbram appeared to notice where her attention was focused, and smiled.
“How about a story of the moons?”
The girl turned to him, eyes almost glowing with curiosity. That told him all he needed.
“I must admit it is a rather short story, but I think you will find it quite interesting,”
He pointed at the larger moon, “You have no doubt seen the crack upon Eidolos’s surface, correct?”
Aria nodded.
“And we cannot forget her red sister, Meton, either,” Helbram continued, “but what if I told you there was a time where the moon held no damage to its surface, a time where there the moon stood alone in the night sky?”
Aria leaned in once again, and could see Elly was doing the same out of the corner of her eye.
“Tis an old tale,” he admitted, “One that my grandfather told me when I was just a child.”
He took a deep breath.
“Long ago, far before the Six Kingdoms, far before the Gods, the Moon shone alone in the night sky. Where many revered the sun, there were those that held their administration for the Moon’s pale beauty. Of them, no one loved the Moon more than two sisters,”
He pointed towards the moons in the sky, “Eidelos, and Meton.”
“It was a simple devotion,” he continued, “one of prayer and offerings of food. Each night the sisters would stand upon a large cliff that overlooked the sea, for it was not only there where the Moon shone the brightest, but where it would reflect off the sea as well, giving the illusion of two moons. Under their light, the sisters were at peace.”
He dropped his hand and sighed, “but it was not meant to last.”
“Tragedy struck, and before their eyes they saw the moon shatter,” he paused as he saw Aria’s eyes widen, but continued on when the girl didn’t say anything, “As it fell to pieces, chaos consumed the world. The rhythm of the seas fell into disarray and as its fragments struck Ellios, the waters swelled. Their home was lost to the floods, and the sisters, finding no other place to go, found themselves stranded on the cliff where they would worship the moon.”
He closed his eyes.
“It was there that they prayed for salvation, wished for sanctuary from the waters that had risen to their feet,” he took in another breath, “In a final, desperate bid, Eidelos offered herself to the Moon, choosing to be its vessel, to make it whole again.”
His eyes opened, “The Moon heard her call.”
“Eidelos ascended, and as she rose to the sky the fragments of the Moon lifted themselves from the sea. With her aid, the Moon pieced itself back together, and order returned to the world, but Meton was now without a sister.”
Aria felt a hollowness to her chest as Helbram spoke.
“The girl, unable to live without Eidelos, prayed to the Moon again, wishing that her sister would not be alone, and this too, the Moon heard.”
He raised his hand slowly, “Meton rose to the sky, and as she did the stray fragments of the Moon rose with her, but taking on a reddish hue as they formed into the lesser moon that we see today. Out of reverence for their sacrifice, the people named the moons after the sisters, which is why we call them Eidelos and Meton to this day,” he dropped his arm, “And to this day they remain in the sky, Meton eternally chasing after her sister.”
Aria looked down from the sky, “That sounds so… sad.”
Helbram wrapped his arms around her shoulders, “They are not always separated, as I am sure you have seen in the past.”
Aria tapped her temples, and her thoughts returned to that time when the Cold was with her. She remembered looking up one night and seeing Meton in front of Eidelos.
“Once a year,” Helbram said, “The sisters reunite, and it is on that day they shine brightest, just like the Moon had done so long ago,” he smiled, “it is on that day that Aether suffuses the land, as if the world itself celebrates their reunion.”
Aria felt relief upon hearing that, but there was still a sense of dissatisfaction in her mind.
“It’s still not fair,” she said.
Helbram looked at her with curiosity.
“They deserve to be together, all the time,” Aria continued, “Not just once a year, but for all eternity. That is what Meton wished for, isn’t it? For her sister to not be alone. To only grant that once a year… it’s cruel.”
Helbram remained silent, and let Aria continue.
“I’ll… I’ll go to the moons myself,” Aria said, “and… and I’ll make sure that they’re together all the time.”
That distant, deep part of her told her that it was childish, that such an impossible dream was the height of foolishness. She expected Helbram to say such things as well. After all, it was only the truth.
Instead, Helbram looked to the sky, “The moon, eh?”
Aria nodded trepidatiously.
The smile remained on Helbram’s face, “That is quite the journey, one that will require much preparation, which in itself will prove to be its own adventure.”
As Helbram spoke, Aria could feel that distant part of her grow quieter.
“You will meet many people on such a journey, see many things, each unforgettable by its own right.”
She did not know why, but while Helbram wore a smile, there was a sad look to his eyes.
“Promise me this, Aria, that as you embark on this journey, you will not forget those you meet, that which you see. Engrave them into your mind, let yourself remember every step that you take,” he looked to her, sadness giving way to determination, “that you choose to take. Can you promise me that?”
Aria met his eyes, their passion bleeding into hers, and nodded. As she did, that distant part of her fell silent.
“I promise.”