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Writer
Join Date: Nov 2006
Posts: 37
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the moon
this is a Myth in a story i had created, half wrote, and threw away, but I still liked this little thing. A short tale about the moon
Once, a long, long time ago, when magic was common and demons feared as more then monsters under the bed, the moon was full. Not just one night of the month, but every night. It was not the small, tiny little shadow of the true moon that we have now, but it was larger, and as bright as the sun, it matched the sun in ferociety,mirrored it, and it bathed the land it silver.
It was also the source of all magic in the land, more of a mystery then it was now.
There was one magician who became obessessed with the moon. he wanted to find out what it was, how it worked, how their magic came from it. he read daily about the moon, and gazed nightly at it. The moon was his god, his wife, his family, his friend, his everything
Some said that he went crazy, or became unhinged. Other, who are less critical, say he opened himself. whatever he did, he heard a voice.
The voice was sweet and loving, and as fimilar to him as the voice of a mother. It cried to him, like a child, begging him to free it from its enslavement within the moon. It called itself the spirit of the moon, and wished only to be free of it.
The man was reaching his later years of life, and devoted the rest of his time to freeing the spirit. he studied many spells, and combined them, played with them, and learned great secrets.
One day, he learned how to free the spirit.
It was the middle of winter when he acted. He polished the ice upon a frozen lake it it mirrored the sky above it. casting spells, he bound the moon to it's reflection. Then he took a large slab of Onyx, levitated himseld high above the lake, and looked up.
The moon reached the apex of it's journey. he was sandwiched between the moon, and it's reflection.
He closed his eyes and took a breath.
He dropped the slab.
The slab hit the ice, bounced, and hit again. a network of thin, weblike cracks formed and spread. and the ice broke, the reflection of the moon shattered.
And thus, so did the moon.
Bits of the moon fell to the gorund and broke into dust, embedded itself into stones, and some dissapeared into darkness, like embers from a fire.
From the swirling black vortex that was once the moon, came a great darkness, that embraced the man, The darkness infused itself with that man, and took hold of his weakened spirit.
The man was overcome, not only by the darkenss but also by hos own grief, and sorrow. How could he, who loved the moon so dearly, destory it??
The darkness, and the man's grief, transformed the man into a horrible and powerful demon. The demon could see the moon, traces of it, in the earth, and wanted to destory it, so he could forget his grief.
Now, of course, the moon cracking is not something that can be ignored. Other magicians saw it, and ran the the rescue. they heard the howl of the demon, and some went to pacify it. others gathered up what they could of the moon.
the magicians joined, and used all of their power to fling the demon into the void of the moon. Then, they used the last ounce of their strength to piece the moon back together, and cover the void. though the moon was no longer as big, nor as bright as it once was, it drove the demon deeper and deeper into the void.
and then, it was over. There was one problem, though. The moon could no longer hold full shape all the time, as much of it's powers has been lost. the moon held full once a month, waned untill the void was open, and waxed to full. As the mooned waned, the demon ran to the void to try to escape, and to destory the moon forever, however, it was never dark long enough to be reached, as he grew close, the moon waxed and grew bright, and the demon fled back into the deepest recesses of the void.
And thus it was, and thus it shall be, untill either the moon, or the demon, dissapears.
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Iungamus Scribere
Last edited by Femina scribit : 12-26-2006 at 09:47 PM.
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