Re: . . . the moon was sewn into the sky that night, clouds were stitched around it” (Zusak, 57).
Worden stared up at the deep navy firmament. He had never seen anything more pristine and graceful than the full moon. It was floating up above his head like his own little personal reading lamp. In fact, the light of the moon was so bright tonight that he could read by it.
A gentle breeze wafted through camp, carrying with it a minty or grassy scent on its warm billows. Worden exhaled a deep sigh of peace as he sat on the grassy, moonlit hillside over looking camp. He watched the activities of his friends and family for a time but never could stop gazing at the moon. He could see every individual crater on the pocked surface. The moon was magnificently haloed by glowing blue clouds. Each layer of them drifted at different speeds casting gentle shadows on the surrounding hills.
For some reason, Worden was most at peace during a full moon. Maybe it had something to do with the lunar symbols his father kept, or maybe it had something to do with his Celubrian heritage, but either way he was most calm under its glow.
Worden rested on his elbows and crossed his leg over his other and gazed up into the sky. He was so tranquil that he didn’t even notice the William’s arrival. Will rested down on his back next to Worden and placed his hands behind his head. Worden did the same.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” asked Worden.
“I’d have to agree with you on that one,” replied William. Worden released another sigh. “You seem very calm now. Did you get over your bad day, then?”
“I guess,” answered Worden, “I don’t really know what causes it, but for some reason, every time I feel the light of the moon, I am calmed. It happens especially during a full moon. I can only describe it as a complete rejuvenation of every cell in my body but I’m not hyperactive . . . rather . . . patient. It is as if I am recharged but I’m calm at the same time. On the inside it’s complete euphoria.”
“Interesting,” William Contemplated. “I was wondering when you would begin to feel the Light. Tell me, how long have you felt this way? And has it ever been stronger or weaker of a feeling in the past?”
“What do you mean ‘the Light?’ Is this about my heritage, because Dad won’t tell me anything!”
“Forget what I said about ‘Light.’ The important thing is that you answer my questions honestly.” They were both resting on their elbows now looking at each other. Worden could still feel the light of the moon stroke his skin, but was able to resist its allure long enough to stare at William.
“Alright,” continued Worden, “I’ll speak honestly. Now that I think about it I have felt the light of the moon my whole life, but with each passing full phase I feel it stronger each month. I believe it started to intensify around my birthday.”
“Fascinating,” whispered William. “Did you know that there is an ancient Celubrian story about the moon?”
They were laying back down, admiring the moon. “No,” replied Worden.
“It goes like this: In the beginning, there was a day and a night. The day was ruled by the sun that gave light and life to the world. The night was ruled by nothing and therefore was chaotic. Because of a lack of governing force, daemons of the night would run unrestrained. The daemons would do all kinds of mischief; from uprooting an elderly woman’s garden that she worked hours on, or the more severe work of seducing the voluntary giving of a mortal soul.
“These daemons were not only mischievous, but evil, spiteful and, worst of all, vengeful. Those mortals that knew of the daemons’ presence were perpetually fearful the night and prayed unto the God of Creation, Andoan, for help.
Originally he granted the faithful one guardian star, a guardian angel if you will, that watched over them all night long. Eventually there were hundreds of millions of stars, but not enough for every single person, so Andoan had a son. This son was a third son. You know of his first two: Ascon and Amthewal, the Keepers of the Gate of Life? Well, this third son was charged to rule the night, similar to the way Andoan himself ruled the day.
“And thus, the moon was created. The stars remain, looking after the descendants of their first charges. For the longest time the name of the long forgotten third son was unknown. Recently, sacred documents have been uncovered and the name is either Alarous or Karnai.”
Worden turned to glare at him. “You are just pulling my leg now, aren’t you?”
“I am afraid I don’t know what you mean.”
“By saying that a god has the name of my surname, now that’s pretty low.”
“I still don’t have any idea what you are talking about.” William was beaming now as he climbed to his feet. “Well goodnight.” And with that, he strolled casually down the hill to his tent.
“Wait!” Worden called after him. “I know you know what I’m talking about! Come back here and be honest! I was honest with you!” In the end, it was futile, because Worden couldn’t stay angry fast, especially in the light of the full moon. Karnai, he thought. What a load of rubbish. What he didn’t know is that it wasn’t that much rubbish after all.
Matthias Oreklein’s Blog by Matthias Oreklein is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
