Brand of the Moon

Chapter One

Hi everyone!

This is entry for @/ SmoothTrooper_Art's contest on Instagram. It was meant to be a short story, but...oh well. Her prompt just gave me too many ideas!

Hope you enjoy.

- JJ

~***~

"Damn it!"

The purplish smoke swirled and dissipated into the air. Kamaria grit her teeth in frustration and looked down at her palm, expecting a transformation.

The opal had indeed changed, albeit not in the way Kamaria had hoped. Its once pearly hue had evaporated with the smoke, leaving the precious gemstone charred and blackened. The slightest gust of wind from the open window kissed the destroyed opal, causing it to crumble into tiny pieces of ash.

She sighed and blew on her palm, sending the ashes skittering into the air. The gale picked it up, and with a snap of Kamaria's fingers, carried the pieces out the window.

"That should have worked," Kamaria mumbled to herself as she flipped through one of the many books on her workspace. "Root of the willow, fang of a viper..."

As Kamaria considered the many ways her spell had failed, a warm yellow light pulsed through the room. It cast an eerie glow, outlining her hands and turning scattered pages translucent. It had been so commonplace these past few months so as not to be noticeable. However, once the heat began, it was unavoidable.

"Gah!"

Kamaria slapped a hand to her forehead and winced. The large crescent scar was searingly hot, branding its wicked reminder further into her skin. The light burned brighter, the heat became scorching, and a low growl rumbled the slatted floors.

"Tigris, the woods!"

Kamaria pulled the hood from her cloak up and over her blonde head, masking the mark, and as a result, the light emanating from it. She flung open the wooden door that creaked on its hinges and watched as Tigris began her patrol. For such a large creature, Tigris was surprisingly stealthy. Her thick limbs took careful, calculated steps. Each graceful stride left a deep imprint of wide paws and sharp talons on the ground. It was the only indication that something was amiss within the forest. Tigris's wet nose snuffled before she sneezed.

The threat lurking in the woods had Kamaria so on edge that she forgot the scorching pain thrumming under her hood. Tigris went still, neck tense as she looked at the trees spanning north. To the untrained eye, nothing was amiss. The sun was setting, a low fog wrapped around the trees heavy with rain, and a lone kestrel announced its arrival with a sharp chirp. But Tigris and Kamaria knew better. A squelching sound was barely audible, yet there all the same. The tiger emitted a low growl.

"Halt."

Kamaria's sharp warning ceased the unnatural noise immediately. A moment passed before a peak of scarlet red fabric appeared behind one of the trees.

Red. A wholly unnatural colour in the woods. Blue of the sky. Green of the earth. Pinkish orange sunsets, brown roots, mahogany leaves falling in the autumn...

Red could be found in the heart of the forest too, but it was always dark, staining leaves and grass with the blood of prey. It was nothing like the bright red found in the shops of the kingdom, dyed by the skilled hands of a seamstress or haberdasher. Although it had been decades since Kamaria walked the streets of civilization, she could recall the affluent men and women wearing the colour. Reserved for the richest of rich, shopowners spent weeks drying and crushing kermes beetles in the hopes that the crimson fabrics in the display window would entice a passing noble.