Hour of the Moon

Chapter 29: Tears from the Moon

Beware the moon, its silver gleam,
For in its light, a goddess unseen.
Her beauty hides a wicked guise,
A darkness that beneath it lies.

She dances 'cross the starry sky,
Her laughter like a haunting cry.
With every step, a curse she weaves,
And all who see her, tremble and grieve.

Her eyes, twin orbs of chilling frost,
In which all innocence is lost.
She lures the weary with her grace,
And binds them in a cold embrace.

Her whispers echo through the night,
A siren's call, a deadly plight.
Beneath her gaze, the world decays,
As shadows stretch in twisted ways.

Beware the moon, its silver sheen,
For in its light, her power's seen.
An evil goddess, cruel and old,
Whose wicked reign will never fold.

- Fable of the Moon Goddess, Book of the Lycans

As I slowly regained consciousness, the dim light revealed a nightmarish tableau: blood, wolves, and demons swirling in the recesses of my mind. The memory of a man cloaked in white lingered, a chilling specter in the chaos.

With aching muscles, I pushed myself up on the stiff bed, my pajamas stained with dried blood. The room felt heavy with the weight of uncertainty, but my attention was drawn to the figure standing before me.

"I see you've awakened," his voice, as ethereal as the dawn, brushed against my senses. I turned to face him, captivated by the piercing grey-blue eyes and the enigmatic smile that graced his lips. Though he appeared no older than forty, there was a timeless wisdom etched into his features, hinting at ancient secrets. He looked of North African heritage with blemish free reddish-brown hued skin and closely cropped curly hair. In his former life, I'm sure he garnered the attention of many women, but now resorts to a life of solitude and secrecy. He shut his sightless eyes, basking in the moonlight's comforting illumination.

"Are you one of them, a wolf?" I ventured, my voice barely above a whisper. His laughter danced on the air, a melody of mystery and intrigue.

"Not anymore. That was eons ago," he replied, his gaze penetrating mine with a depth that stirred something primal within me. "You could call me a Fairy Seer or Doctor. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, descendant of the Moon Goddess. I am Akita."

Gratitude swelled within me as I thanked him for saving me, but his expression darkened as his eyes fell upon the necklace adorning my neck.

"That necklace saved you, but it holds power beyond your comprehension," he explained, his tone tinged with caution. With a gesture, he directed my gaze to the trinket, a symbol of protection turned harbinger of peril.

"She claimed it was for protection," I murmured, my fingers tracing the intricate patterns etched into its surface.

"It holds the essence of the Primordial African Gods, a relic forged to contain the moon's power," Akita revealed, his voice resonating with ancient reverence. "But for a mortal like you, its energy is a double-edged sword, draining rather than shielding."

A shiver raced down my spine as I absorbed his words, the weight of destiny bearing down upon me like a leaden cloak. The realization of my role in this cosmic dance left me reeling, torn between duty and desire.

"I don't know if I can bear such a burden," I confessed, the weight of uncertainty heavy upon my shoulders.

"Your story is intertwined with that of the young wolf, Waya," Akita declared, his voice carrying the weight of prophecy. "Embrace your destiny, or die."

As he spoke of mating with Waya and the need to harness the necklace's power, I felt the tendrils of fate tightening around me, binding me to a path I could not yet comprehend.