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Sand.
A land, full of it. His golden features had died and she, the Moon, casts a shadow over him. Her breath, gentle as the duvet, cascaded on his small backs. She carried small grains of him with her, her whispers whistling. Her hair, the sky, has turned dark, with white glitters, dazzling her beauty. She saw the sand from beneath, whom envied her admiration. She was loved, for she brought calmness and dreams to the souls of this land. He- he says- only brought troublesome emotions, conflicts, and complaints. He whisk his sediments in the eyes of the poor, whom only seek refuge from his frustrated lashes. He felt the Moon mocking him, and he turned on himself, to the dunes. She fed on his anger, and provoked by muttering close to him. A foul you are- she mocks- a foul whom shall always be bothersome to those who inhabit you. He believed her and not. How he envied her so dearly, he whom is willing to grip her hair and rip it apart, letting the stars pool over him. Only then, would he feel himself light as a bird's feather, the animal that dances so freely in the Sun's clouds.
Yet, his grudge and desire, blinded what he refused to see. Those stars that she- the Moon- carried with such pride, was only a reflection of her true self. They were tears, her tears that stuck like icky glue, would never be removed. It was a curse, for wanting to be loved. She would never see it another way, only as the ugly truth she carries relentlessly every night. What the Sand couldn't see, was her broken heart, knowing she would never have the pleasure to witness what he does. She was just as jealous as him, he whom bore his eyes at the true colours of the world- a wish she could only speak to the stars- her sadness. A never ending argument between both, shadowed away from the Sun, the latter only an oblivious spectator.
But tonight, the Moon's calls have been heard. She would witness the miracle of a tragedy. During the Sand temper, he brought a sandstorm to an innocent carriage. His violence, toppled the poor transport, damaging the interior and its residence. It was silent, the two animals- camels- were the only survivors. Or so it was believed, as the cries of an infant were heard from the inside. The Moon and Sand stopped bickering and moved closer to the carriage. The side-laying vehicle's door opened wide, an arm outstretched from it and out came a woman. The cries became louder, as the small woman in the eyes of the witnesses held close to her heart a child. A baby. A little girl of only 3 months old, covered in layers of small, thin blankets of all colours. The woman hushed the cries away, rocking the small child back and forth. She had damaged her body severely, to the point she couldn't even drag herself out. And so, the woman laid atop the carriage, half her body limply hanging from the door. She hugged the infant closer, who had fallen asleep again. She cried and in her moment, begged the Gods to save her blessing, her only true treasure.
The Moon's tears in her hair grew brighter- a sign she was crying once again. The Sand, however, thought she was mocking the woman, and in a sense of regret and guilt for causing such a disgrace, backed away- the desert now quiet. The Moon became silent as well, as she no longer breathed her puff on the floor of miniscule and golden dark rocks. She wanted to hold the woman in an embrace, but her cold body would have only made things worse.
The Moon now begged, asking the stars to bring help, to save those poor souls. But she knew better her words would mean nothing. It was destiny, this was supposed to happen. She cried louder, the bright stars of her tears accompanying her in her moment of despair.
What she witnessed next, was utterly beyond logic, if not, a hallucination. But no, there standing only a few meters from the carriage, was a tall and slim figure. Another woman with dark clothing, a darker cape that crapped the sand behind her. She moved closer and closer, yet the Moon felt no threat from her.
"A poor soul, so soon it feels unjust"
The cloth woman talked to herself, whispering words, which saddened the Moon even more. She floated above the sand, her sandals making a sound once she landed quietly close, where the other woman had cried for mercy for her child.
"Saddening, another caught in the fight of jealous foes, one refusing to see the truth and the other embracing it too much"
The Moon could not object to such accusations. Both her, and the Sand, were at fault, and they could never repair what was lost. She hid her face in a crescent, no longer wanting to see her atrocity.
"But the Gods have heard you, my child" The woman in the dark cloth crouched down, scooping the infant whom was unaware of her mother's praying cries. "I, a God, have heard your mother's voice, her screams, her agony. May her spirit find peace, and then, would she find her lost. She will gaze upon you and you shall carrie her name with love"
She brought her hands in front of the baby, whom, with curiosity, grabbed her fingers. The woman smiled gently, her lips glowing from the cherry lipstick she wore.
"And I will carry you as my child and nourish you with the love you had lost." She held the baby up in the air, for the Moon to glance at. "But only from a distance will I protect you. No. You must be raised by your kind, it is forbidden for us to even come in contact with one"
The infant only looked down with big eyes, a small laughter from the woman's action.
"For I, The Crane God 'Nico Robin', will give you a chance to become something you were unfairly going to be ripped off."
