By The Moon's Blade

6. Grasshaven, One Week Ago

The next few days blend together into a single exhausting blur, moments spent sharpening my lumina skills, both physically and metaphorically. I keep trying to manipulate these small balls of purple light into something a bit more tangible. Though small ball did the trick with Karrekan, I have a feeling it won't go very far with anyone with a bit more power. I consider showing the ball of light to my father, but think twice about introducing this sort of ability to him. Even if he did believe me, it doesn't lead us anywhere.

So, I focus on what I can do. I work on creating a variety of weapons using the light — a replica of my trusty Shimmersoul, a longsword crafted from pure lavender glow, even a sparkling arrow. I don't even know how far the lumina can travel from me, but it seems as though I'll never really get a chance as I haven't made it further than a slightly more pointy circle. Not even an edge with which to make a small cut.

I haven't even heard from that prick Zelvas yet. It hasn't been long, but it's been long enough that I feel like he would have come to me if anything I did made some sort of impact. My hand aches as I contort and hold my fingers into different positions to try and conjure another blade. I loosed the breath I unknowingly held tight in my chest as I relax my hands and let the light disappear.

I don't know how much longer I can sit here and wait for a response, especially with the knowledge that I was able to glean from Karrekan. Time is a valuable asset, but also a curse. With that, maybe it's time that I bring the fight to him.

——

I sneak out from the shack as the moonlight drapes across my face in a welcome glow. At least I planned this during a New Moon, intended or not. I carry my staples — Shimmersoul, a bow and arrows, wardstones, and a small vial of brightstream — and silently walk across the stones out to the Crimson Wilds. I've been working on my stealth for a while now, so the odds of my father hearing me are slim. But if he did hear me, he chose not to say anything.

And anyways, I have bigger concerns on my mind at the moment as I approach a particularly darkened patch of trees. And as expected, two small amber stones blink into the blackness, along with one particularly sharp smile. I subtly pull the wardstones from my pocket, reading the etchings with my fingertips, and quickly drop them in a circle around me.

Of course he came to see me. Pride always gets the better of beings like this. Horrid, terrible, cruel monsters always feel the need to prove themselves as the cruelest of them all.

"Well then, I must be some sort of threat if you're willing to visit me, a lowly peon," I say with surprising confidence. My throat has lost the warble that caused my voice to warble the last time I confronted him.

"Happy to help, my dear," he responds, differently than usual. Like he's annoyed.

"I learned some interesting things recently. In fact, I recently discovered that you're some great commander. Don't you have better things to do than taunt weak, useless Lunari? I'm just a lowly peon, in the grand scheme of things."

He snarls in response and his eyes become an even brighter orange, almost bright enough to light up his whole face. I'm able to see his brows furrow as anger bubbles to the surface. But he catches himself almost as quickly as he's lost in frustration, darkening his eyes again and returning to that familiar cruel smile.

"What can I say? I like to play with my food."

"Enough chatter. Tell me something—"

"We'll see," he interjects before I can finish.

I clear my throat, "As I was saying, I know about that stream and cave in the middle of the meadow, no point in hiding that from me anymore. But when I went to visit it again the other day, the entrance was gone, almost like it disappeared into thin air. Or, became part of the environment. You didn't happen to... glamour that entrance, did you?"