Does the moon long for morning

Rocks, a box, and a letter

Varian hadn't expected much when Ruddinger came barreling toward him, urgently tugging him in some random direction. He figured the raccoon was leading him to another apple or some snack hidden out of reach.

What he didn't expect was to be led straight to a cluster of large, jagged rocks.

Cautiously, he stepped closer and ran his gloved hand over their surface. Oddly smooth, the rocks seemed to suck the warmth right out of him. Despite their rough appearance, they were flawless—no scratches or imperfections marring their sides. Five of them stood there, clustered together, ranging in size from a foot to four feet tall.

Pulling out a notebook, he begins to to sketch the things, writing ideas and theories wherever there is extra space. The rocks are weird, and clearly don't belong in the corner of his neighbors apple orchard. They are too uniform to be naturally occurring, and while he isn't a fan of magic there doesn't seem to be much other explanation for them to have popped up.

Well, no explanation yet.

With enough time and spite he figures he can find a way that science is actually applicable.

Probably.

———

He isn't sure how long he spends he there, crouched down and studying the rocks, but by the time he's more aware of his surroundings the sun has traveled most of the sky and he can hear his mother calling for him in the distance.

"Mom! Look at this! I've never seen anything like these before—"

"Varian, let's step away from those, okay?"

Her voice was calm but carried an edge that made him pause. He glanced up, and for the first time, really looked at her. She was watching him with a strange, worried expression.

"Is everything okay? What... what are these?" he asked, his excitement faltering.

"Esurientem tenebris," she said softly. "The black rocks. They originated from the moonstone, but I've never seen them outside of the Dark Kingdom before."

"Is that... bad?"

She let out a long sigh, her shoulders slumping slightly. "Yes. They're incredibly destructive. Please, Varian, try to stay away from them. They have a way of draining the light—draining the energy—out of everything around them."

As she spoke, the shadows around them seemed to deepen, stretching across the ground as the sun began to set. Varian hurriedly packed up his notebook and wiped the dirt from his pants, his hands trembling. He hadn't realized how cold it had gotten.

"How do we stop them? Can we stop them?" His voice was quieter now.

"Perhaps," she murmured, her voice oddly thoughtful.

The walk home was mostly silent, both of them lost in thought, the weight of the discovery pressing heavily on their minds.

———

His mother was preparing for something.

He's not sure for what, exactly, but he can't brush away the dread as he watches her rummage through old books, climb into the attic, and search through hidden cabinets he barely knew existed. She was on a mission and the growing tension made him feel like something important was looming on the horizon.

It wasn't until Ulla took a rare break from her search that Varian saw his chance to ask the questions that had been gnawing at him.

That was the thing about his mum, she would always answer any of his curiosities, the problem was finding a good time to ask them. Now, as she sits by a window, hands wrapped around a steaming cup of tea, was the perfect time.

"Mum?" he ventured.

"Hm?" She glanced up, her expression softening as she met his eyes.

"You mentioned Dad came from the Dark Kingdom?"

Asking about his father usually made Ulla quiet, her mood subdued for the rest of the day, but Varian couldn't shake his curiosity.

"Yes, I suppose I did." She gave him a gentle smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"I just... can you tell me more about that? Anything?"

She straightened, setting her mug down so her hands could be free for the expressive gestures she always used when explaining something. "The Dark Kingdom is very, very old—older than Corona, even. Every aspect of it was built around the moon stone. The castle, the culture, everything. There was a group of people dedicated to guarding and studying the Moonstone, and your father, Quirin, was part of that group."

Varian blinked in surprise. "Wait, what? Then why did he leave?"

"It was a mixture of things really. The moonstone became destructive, the kingdom was evacuated, the others in his group were divided, and," at this her smile widens," he fell in love."

For a moment, they sat in silence, the warmth of her words settling softly between them. But the quiet didn't last long—Neither varian nor ulla are prone to sitting still.

The bright eyed woman signs before pulling herself up.

"There are things I must tend to, but if you are ever curious there should be a box of your dads things hidden somewhere in the attic."

She sends him a playful wink before continuing her search through the house.

———

The attic was surprisingly warm and stuffy for early May, and it seemed to be home to far too many spiders for Varian's liking. By the time he found the old trunk, he was covered in dust and cobwebs. The trunk itself was made of dark oak, with a strange symbol—a circle pierced with three lines—carved into the top.

Gently, he takes the items out of it one by one, running his fingers over different pieces of armor, scrolls, and weapons. At the bottom lay a heavy cloak, made of what he guessed was bear skin, its weight oddly comforting in his hands.

It feels too quiet as the space around him is slowly filled with all that is left of his dad. He couldn't help but wonder what his dad had been like. Did they share the same taste in food? The same laugh?

Would his dad have been proud of him?

It's oddly draining to put everything back how he found it. His limbs feel heavy as he makes his way through the dark house and collapses onto his bed. He knew he'd regret not cleaning up the spiderwebs clinging to his hair when he woke, but he couldn't bring himself to care at the moment.

Ruddiger scrambles in after him, curling up by his neck, his cold nose pressing against Varian's skin and making him flinch. But exhaustion won over discomfort. Sleep came quickly, deep and dreamless.

———

The next morning the house is silent.

Varian rubs his eyes and blinks blurrily as he enters the kitchen. His shoulders slump as he finds it empty apart from a lone letter resting on the counter.

Ulla must have found what she'd been searching for and left sometime during the night.