Moonlit

4: Whisper of Affection

Noah blinked open his eyes, struggling against the weight of exhaustion. Every muscle in his body ached, protesting movement, as he slowly, carefully propped himself against the rough wooden wall. Memories of the night flooded to the forefront of his mind; Noah rubbed both eyes with his palms as he tried to make sense of the flashes. The tempest that had whirled violently within him settled; a cold chill glazed over his skin as residual sparks surged under the surface, like ominous whispers of an endless storm. Noah groaned as his brain swelled and throbbed, feeling two sizes too big for his skull, like a prison closing in on him from all sides.

The forest.

He'd ventured into the forest countless times during his year at Eldarion, finding solace in the clearing home to the ancient oak. It had become his sanctuary, a place where he conducted his rituals, some with success and others with humiliating failure. Last night had been a disastrous failure, one he nearly paid the price for with his own life.

Noah raked his brain; he'd done everything correctly. He paid the imp in way of a citrine earring. He carved Deimos sacred symbol and felt the pull of the Abyss through his veins as he offered the tempest of chaos within him to the Dark Prince. A ritual that was never without strain but had been successful in the past. He'd felt the steady flow of the wild magic within him, like a trickle of rain. The little imp had acted as a tether between Noah and the Abyss; he'd felt Deimos' lissome embrace. Then, all at once, devastation. The energy ripped through him, like torrential rains that turned roads into lakes and moved the Earth.

That graceful, tender touch that Deimos had so often extended turned voracious as he demanded more. His appetites had been ignited as he threatened to consume all of Noah and allow those energies to run rampant until the forest had been turned into an Abaddon. An abode for the lost and vile souls of the abyss to dwell within on the mortal plane. The forest would have been forever altered, it would have become a place of nightmares, void of kindness and light. Noah it's lord, trapped within the bounds for an enternity, ensnaring all who would wander within the Abaddon and care for the dwelling legions.

What happened next?

Noah racked through the disjointed memories. An animal, or a beast, had appeared. That alone should have been impossible as the influx of abyss energies ravished the immediate area, all animals should have fled and any that had been trapped within the currents would have been shredded until nothing was left but a mangled soul. Fear pulsed through Noah as he stared down at his palms, he'd attacked the beast. He remembered the sensations of his magic connecting with flesh. Noah dropped his face into his palms, guilt flooded through him. The beast. He forced his mind to focus as images of the magnificent wolf lunged at him and pinned him against the ground. He'd been certain the wolf was there to end the gale of Hell.

To end him.

Had he even been relieved by the prospect?

The rest blurred together in a series of snippets. The storm withered away as he felt a foreign heartbeat against his chest. Hot breath, comforting like the warmth of a roaring hearth, against his cold skin. It'd grounded him. Grounded him in a way he'd never known. The feeling of soft fur gliding under his fingers, marred by tacky blood matted around gaping ridges. Guilt overwhelmed Noah as pain pierced through him.

A muffled cry jolted Noah from his spiraling emotions. His eyes darted to the cot beside his own, where a familiar stranger lay entangled in the torment of a nightmare. The man's hair glistened with sweat, plastered to his anguished face as his furrowed brows bore the weight of unseen horrors. His sinewy neck contorted, pulsing veins strained against the skin, as guttural growls emanated from parched lips.

Noah hesitated as he watched the man squirm in the cot.

With a slow, deep breath Noah reached out to gently shake the man's shoulder. "Hey," he murmured, his voice a trembling whisper. "Wake up." The man's body jerked, but he remained trapped within the torment of his dream world. Noah nudged at his shoulder, with a notch more force "wake up!" The man muttered resistant cries; his words too jumbled to understand what nightmare plagued his subconscious. Noah nibbled on the soft tissue of his cheek, he'd been no stranger to nightmares, often he sought solace in his mom's gentle touch. But now, as he shook the sleeping stranger, he realized he could barely recall the tenderness of his mom's nurturing embrace. Faint whispers of her voice echoed in his mind, a distant lullaby, but they were too far gone to offer any comfort. A single, shallow tear escaped from the corner of his eye as he questioned when the memory of his mom's warmth became so distant.