The Tale of the Silver Moon

CHAPTER I

Enya

My head throbbed almost agonizingly. When I opened my eyes, everything was dark and empty, like a starless night sky, and it took a while to adjust to the gleaming light. I didn't know where I was, I realized. People were talking—arguing—somewhere. I struggled to get up and walked towards where the voices seemed to be coming from. The room I was in was meticulously clean; the walls and floor were so white that they almost sparkled, and the bed I was on, to my surprise, was covered in blood from end to end. I looked at my arms and legs, completely astonished to see bandages and dressings covering every inch of my skin. The corridor was narrow, dark—only a small light on one side of the rough stone wall illuminated its entire length—and damp. The sounds came from the kitchen. A woman with long silver and lilac hair spoke:

— I couldn't just leave her there to die! What did you expect me to do? — The firm, feminine voice complained.

The man at the other end of the table, surprisingly muscular and tall, with shimmering green eyes and thick, wavy brown hair covering his forehead, retorted:

— You could have been sensible, Altalune. You can't just bring a stranger into the house!

The girl jumped from her chair. Lunar particles seemed to explode all around her.

— She was all cut up; I was horrified even to think, well, even allow myself to imagine leaving her there...

The man approached, hesitating to touch Altalune's hand hanging by her side. He looked distraught, and his eyes sparkled.

— Okay, I just... That's not what I meant. Let her stay here until she recovers.

The young woman nodded, easing the tension in the shoulders of the tall man. I realized I shouldn't be eavesdropping, and a feeling akin to guilt—not exactly guilt—boiled in my blood. When I turned to leave with their mention of going to see how, apparently, I was doing, I ended up bumping my shoulder into the wall. A sharp pain filled my entire body, and I ended up screaming. Altalune came to me in moments.

— You shouldn't be standing; you need to rest! — Her voice sounded like an arrogant command, but her eyes were concerned. I murmured, my voice extremely hoarse:

— Where am I? — The man surveyed me from head to toe, as if he wanted to know if it was really worth leaving me there.

Altalune sighed, as if she didn't want to explain. After forcing me to lie down on the bloodstained bed, she explained:

— You're in a cave, my personal sanctuary. This is my home and Thomas's — The tall, muscular man nodded. — and other exiles'.

Exiles. A glimpse of that word ran through my mind, but everything seemed foggy for me to remember when I heard it. The pain in my shoulder had ceased.

— Why am I here? What happened to me? — I tried to search my mind for any recollection. Nothing. Altalune sat on the bed. Thomas left without saying goodbye.

— That's what I want to find out. You were lying on a road, and, to put it vaguely, your condition was deplorable. I had to bring you with me, or you would have died.

She snapped her fingers, and a soup appeared in her hands. She brought a spoon to my mouth. I turned my face abruptly. I hissed:

— How can I trust you?

She laughed scornfully. Her eyes were severe. Finally, she announced:

— You have no one to trust but me. Oh! And don't think that just because I helped you, I will accept being treated with disrespect. I'm doing you a favor; you're not my responsibility.