Moonbound and Undying

Chapter 1: Moonbound

The sun sank behind the distant hills, leaving the world bathed in the fading glow of twilight. Long shadows stretched across the village, and the warmth of the day gave way to the cool breath of evening. Amaris stood on the edge of the sacred grove, where ancient oaks towered above her, their gnarled branches swaying gently in the breeze. The air was filled with the scent of earth and pine, the rich fragrance of life settling into night.

Before her, the crescent moon hung low in the sky, delicate but radiant, casting a silver sheen over the landscape. Amaris closed her eyes, letting the soft light of the moon wash over her, a familiar pulse of energy thrumming through her body. It was a sensation she had known since childhood—her connection to the Moon was as constant as the stars above, an unspoken bond that tied her to something far older and more powerful than herself.

Her fingers brushed the leather pouch hanging from her belt, and she withdrew a small bundle of herbs—lavender, sage, and yarrow. Each one had been carefully harvested under the full moon, blessed in the light of the Goddess herself. She knelt in the grass, feeling the cool earth beneath her palms, and began her nightly ritual.

"Guide us, protect us, as the night watches over the day," she whispered, her voice barely a breath in the silence of the grove. The words were ancient, passed down through generations of her family, a promise to the Moon and the Goddess who ruled it.

With steady hands, she scattered the herbs across the ground, the faint aroma rising to mingle with the cool night air. She drew symbols in the dirt—intricate, winding lines that connected in sacred patterns. Her fingertips glowed faintly as the magic stirred within her, a soft, pale light like the glow of the moon reflected in still water. The power of the Moon coursed through her, filling her senses, heightening her awareness of the world around her.

In that moment, everything was in balance—the world was quiet, peaceful, as if the land itself was taking a long, deep breath. But beneath the surface, Amaris could feel it. The faint tremor of something... off. Something that had been creeping into her awareness for months now. A disturbance in the balance she had worked so hard to protect. It was subtle, barely noticeable, like the whisper of wind in the trees, but it was there—an unease that gnawed at the edges of her consciousness.

She rose slowly to her feet, brushing dirt from her hands, and gazed up at the moon. The crescent hung like a guardian over the night, its light gentle but resolute. It watched over her people, her village, and the land they called home, just as she did. Yet, despite the moon's presence, despite the magic that connected her to the earth, Amaris felt it again—that gnawing emptiness inside her. It was as if a part of her had been hollowed out, leaving a void she couldn't explain.

It wasn't the first time she had felt it. For years, that feeling had lurked in the back of her mind, but it had grown stronger in recent months. No matter how hard she tried to ignore it, to focus on her duties, it was always there, like a shadow she couldn't escape.

Amaris turned her gaze back toward the village. The small stone cottages sat nestled among the trees, smoke curling from the chimneys as the fires inside crackled to life. The last of the day's work was done, and the villagers were settling in for the night. Children's laughter echoed faintly in the distance, mixing with the low murmur of conversations carried on the wind. She smiled at the sight—her people, her home. They relied on her, trusted her to keep them safe. She had done so for years, as her mother and grandmother had before her.

But the unease remained, tugging at her soul, as though the moon itself was trying to tell her something she couldn't quite understand.

"Amaris," a voice called from behind her.

She turned to see Allira, one of the village women, approaching. The older woman's face was lined with age, but her eyes still sparkled with the same warmth Amaris had known since childhood. Allira had been a friend of her mother's, and though she was not born with the same magic as Amaris, she had always respected the ways of the Moon.