Chapter 8
A woman dressed in dull gray colors danced across the stage, a cloak flowing behind her. A group of children in white danced behind her, and another woman's voice began to narrate the familiar scene.
"The world was once young and unsure of her purpose. She flew through the stars and she had spirits in her hands. No one had told her to turn her back to the stars so the spirits could rest. The gods let her roam freely, with no direction or oversight, and so freely she danced. But the spirits were cold and afraid, for the nights would last eons as she wandered the dark. Then the spirits were burning and in pain, for the days would be sudden and scorching as she leaped over stars."
As the narrator spoke, the woman jumped through the air over makeshift flames of cloth and the children fell to the ground under the supposed heat.
"The spirits preferred the fiery days. For the stars would look down on them and hear their cries. During the long nights, the spirits could only complain to the world herself. 'Please, Mother,' they would call into the dark, 'please find us a sun with a gentle touch, so we may play in the light and rest in the dark!' But she giggled and ran, and sang through the night."
The children threw themselves to the ground and mimed the act of begging, while the woman laughed and danced between them.
"One day, as the world danced past a star, and the spirits called for his help, he decided to listen. 'Dear star,' they cried out, 'Our mother is cruel. Please follow us and bring us your warmth, so we can play in the light and rest in the dark.' This star looked on the world and his heart ached for the terrified souls in her hands. So he pulled himself away and dimmed his light, so the spirits could see but not burn to his touch. And he followed the world as she soared through the sky."
A man in vibrant, fiery red, orange, and yellow robes appeared on stage. He danced around and with the woman in gray, sometimes facing her like a lover, other times circling with his back pressed to hers in the middle of a circle of the white-clad children.
"Day after day he followed the childish world. And when the spirits grew weary, he would hide behind her back. When the spirits grew cold he would face her again. And the spirits weren't cold, and they didn't burn. They no longer feared the whims of the world, and they cried out to the sun in gratitude. 'Tell us your name, that we might throw a festival while we bathe in your light!' They called, and the star answered.
"'Aethon,' he said, 'and I am happy to help.' So the spirits celebrated Aethon whenever he faced them. As he rose from one horizon, the spirits would rise with him. As he watched from the sky, the spirits danced for him. And as he laid his head to rest, the spirits would too. Aethon loved the spirits, and the world didn't mind his presence. So everyone was happy and nothing was old."
The children sang and danced with a choral melody, rising and falling together like a wave as Aethon passed.
"But Aethon grew weary of the dance of the spirits. He was grateful for their praise, and he loved to bring them the day. But it wasn't enough. He loved watching the spirits, and he partook in their joy. But it was always the same. The festival of Aethon never changed, and the spirits never learned anything new. Aethon loved to learn, and he realized that bringing day wasn't enough. He had grown to love the spirits and he wanted to give them more.
"So he reached out, and he touched them. At first, it was just one spirit at a time. When he touched them, he gave them homes to live in, and purposes to live by. The first spirits were given water to live in and they flowed through the world as rivers and oceans and lakes. The next spirits were given the fish and the seaweed as homes. As Aethon touched more spirits, the world grew more beautiful.
The man playing Aethon danced between the children, and when he touched them, the color of their clothes changed to brilliant greens and blues.
"Before long, she wore fields and flowers and trees in her hair. She boasted mountains and valleys and fjords, and she was beautiful. So she grew to love Aethon as the spirits loved him. In her trees and fields were beasts and birds, and chief among them was man. The most loyal of spirits who loved Aethon the best and shined the brightest were given homes with sharp minds and soft bodies. They built temples and cities and found new ways to celebrate the star who gave them their forms."
The now colorful children swarmed the woman playing the world, and she crouched to the ground until she could no longer be seen. Then, when she emerged again, her clothes and skin were both painted in brilliant colors.
"All was well and everyone was happy. There was no pain and there was no war. The world continued to dance through the sky. Aethon loved his creations and they loved him. All the creatures of the world came alive when Aethon faced the world and went to sleep when he hid behind her back. It was a time when there was only joy. But Aethon wasn't the only star who loved the spirits.
"As the beautiful world flew through the skies, her beautiful green hair and the vibrant life in her hands began to attract attention. All the stars spoke of the most beautiful world and the star who followed her. Many admired them, but some were jealous. Some wanted to steal them away and claim them as their own. Chief among these stars was Luna. Where Aethon was light and warmth, Luna was cold stone. Where Aethon was life and joy, Luna was cruelty and envy."
More actors hurried onto the stage, most in muted reds or yellows. They crouched around together and whispered, pointing to the colorful woman as she danced and pulled her long flowing cloak of green behind her. Finally, a tall, hauntingly beautiful woman joined the stage, and the lighting changed. The air felt heavier and even in the audience, faces paled. She was dressed like the girl had been, with a mask of vicious fangs.
"Every night, when Aethon hid to give the spirits rest, Luna would show herself. Some nights, she would hide behind her cloak of darkness and the spirits couldn't see her at all. Other nights, she would peek out and let them see only her glare. When Aethon was particularly distracted, however, she would show herself entirely and taunt the spirits. The light she brought was cool and blue, and the spirits feared her.
"'Why do you hide, spirits?' She would ask as they cowered in their cities and trees, 'I simply want to give you a gift, as Aethon did.' But the spirits didn't believe her, and they didn't come out. This made Luna furious, and she raged at the world. She reached out and touched the spirits who hid only in the dark, where she could always reach. She touched the owls, and the cats, and the jackals. She gave them a taste for blood and a fear of the light, and she sent them after the other spirits."
The actress portraying Luna put her hand over her eyes and acted like she was searching high and low. As she did, the children ducked around behind her. Some hid behind props, appearing as she looked away and crouching again when she looked back. She pretended to look away as a child in brown emerged from behind a tree, then rapidly looked back and grabbed him by the collar. Once again his clothes changed color, now stained with angry reds. This child then began to hunt as well, spreading his sickness to the other children on stage.
"'This is my gift,' she promised, as her monsters hunted. They fell from the sky and hid in the tall grass, so they could tear and kill and destroy. Still, the spirits wouldn't respond to her. So she gripped the water and she pushed, and pulled and drowned. She flooded the cities of Aethon's loyal spirits, pulling the creatures of the land into the sea and leaving the creatures of the sea on land. And so she introduced death into the world.
"The spirits, distraught, begged Aethon to save them. 'Please, Lord Aethon,' they begged. 'She stalks us while you are gone. She looks through our windows and paints our roads with her false light. She has her beasts tear our skin. She poisons the water with salt and she pours it into our homes so we have nowhere to hide.' Aethon mourned for them, but he could not help."
The children threw themselves on their faces before Aethon's actor, and he only shook his head in time with the narration.
"'I am sorry, children,' he told them. 'But I cannot protect you. She appears when I am gone and flees when I rise. I can only chase her away each morning, and ask you to resist her temptations at night, for her gifts are the tools of your end.' The spirits wept at this, for if Aethon could not fight her, how could they?
"Many of them lost hope, and many chose to rise at night. For the gifts she gave to her beasts did not harm them, but only their prey. These spirits threw themselves on their faces in front of Luna and asked for her gifts. So she gave them teeth and claws to hunt and kill. To the men who bowed before her, she gave them devious wit and sharp weapons, and they hunted each other. The loyal followers of Aethon feared Luna's spirits, and again they begged him."
The children divided into two groups, half hiding again and the other crowding around Luna's actress as they had with the world before. Then both groups met in the middle and began to fight until the children with no red in their clothes fled and the stage went dark. When next there was light, Aethon's actor stood on the stage, surrounded by kneeling children.
"'Please, Lord Aethon, save us from the spirits of Luna!' they begged, and Aethon wept for them. But he could not intervene himself. Instead, he selected the most pure spirits. The spirits with wisdom and patience who had never been tempted, and he shared his light. These spirits learned to touch the world themselves and intervene on Aethon's behalf. With the light of Aethon inside them, they faced Luna's spirits and beat them back."
Again the children met in the middle and warred, this time driving the tainted spirits off the stage. Some of the children from Luna's side, however, donned masks and began to blend in with the pure spirits.
"But it was too late. Luna's touch already permeated the world. Everywhere she could see, the fruits of her gift took effect. The homes of the spirits began to age, and whither, and turn to dust. The men who fought under Luna's light grew frail and their minds became clouded. The spirits who fought on Luna's behalf became ugly and foul, and even they withered with time."
The colors of the children's clothes began to fade away, and one by one, they collapsed to the stage, which was flooded with a harsh red light.
"For this was Luna's gift. It had never been the teeth or the claws. It had never been the filthy tricks or the sharp weapons. Luna's gift was the death they brought, and she wanted to give it to all of them. And so Luna's final gift was time. The most fearsome and dangerous weapon she had. It bit into every spirit in every corner of the world and ensured that each would accept her embrace eventually. And in a way, Luna won, for now, she always takes Aethon's gift away from us and gives us her own. No one can escape it.
"But Aethon is kind. He did not abandon us. When a spirit is forced from the home he built for them, he guides them to a new one and allows them to start anew. He never leaves for long and he brings new life with him every morning. So while Luna poisoned the world with her gifts, she couldn't take the spirits from Aethon. For he grants life far faster than she can take it away."
Aethon's actor began to dance across the stage again, and the children he touched would have colorful clothes again and begin to dance with him. And, as suddenly as it had darkened, the world returned to light. I blinked. As the actors were bowing, I couldn't help but feel awed. I had never seen a performance with such detailed effects before.
Still, the play made me angry for some reason. It wasn't right. And then, as she had before the play started, the girl from before spoke from right beside me. "Do you fear Luna?" she asked and I looked at her sharply, startled.
"I don't understand," I echoed my earlier sentiments and again she clarified.
"As a Goddess. Do you hate her? Avoid her? Fear her gift?" she asked, and again I answered.
"Of course, I fear her gift," I lied. "She brings nothing but death." The girl tilted her head at me before responding.
"Are you sure about that?" she asked. I opened my mouth to respond, but she smiled and followed up first. "Well, no matter, I hope you enjoyed the play!" she said before bowing and running back into the audience to speak with other attendees. I just watched her go, something unsettling brewing in my chest.
I tried to shake it off and stand up to go. As I did, I paused when I realized the sun was already beginning to set. The play had felt fairly brief as it wasn't a long story. Somehow, hours and hours had passed. It was like there was another time mage, manipulating the day while I watched the performance. Even a moment before, I could have sworn it was brighter outside. I shuddered at the feeling of wrongness and began to rub my arms for warmth.
Then, I decided to head back to the inn and check on Livia. I figured I would have a much better chance of making a plan if I spoke to the residents of the city first.
Day 2 - End