The Forsaken

A FIRE UNDER THE MOON

Two white rose amulets stumble upon each other in the vast kingdom of Ferro. One guided by the Moon, the other by her nose; both with a myriad of madness. The chance of such an event happening is akin to being struck by lightning twice... if normal people were concerned. For Melione such odds mean nothing. The world will provide. This is her way.

Ulric walks in front as he periodically glances back at Melion, trying to keep his smile in check.

Another chosen. Another like himself. What luck! I am not alone.

The feeling of joy lingered in his mind from the moment he met Melione. This is all new to him. He feels something inside; he feels alive without fighting for his life.

Is this what it feels like to be normal? Is this what it is to be human, Ulric asks himself?

Melione looks around with a faint smile, absorbing the sights.

“I am hungry,” Melione says as she stops in her tracks.

“There is little chance we will find any food here. We must continue until we reach a city or a forest. So for now...” Ulric explains as he gets cut off mid-sentence.

“I am hungry and thirsty,” Melione repeats as she runs past Ulric to the high ground in front of them.

“Wait!” Ulric yells as he runs to catch up to her.

Upon the elevated plains, Melione stands looking down with a faint smile on her face.

“I told you we need to...” Ulric says running up to her as he stops mid-sentence as she points in front of them.

There lies a long plain with a small river. Quickly, they make their way to it.

Ulric’s jaw almost drops from the surprise.

“Are my eyes deceiving me?” Ulric blurts out in disbelief.

There is a source of fresh water to drink, some branches scattered here and there; perfect for making a campfire. And two dead fish with half their bodies in water and the other half on land.

Melione points at the fish as she faintly smiles.

“In all my life in the wild I have never seen food appear from nowhere like this,” Ulric says with surprise as he turns to Melione who stands there smiling. The world has provided. This is her way.

Ulric examines the fish, thinking it may be rotten, not fit for consumption. It is not. Must have died recently. But how and why? He looks at Melione, who sits on the grass as if waiting for something.

“Dead like bunnies in the fields, dead like bunnies in the fields...” Melione sings as she playfully tilts her head left and right.

Strange, the wild unkempt man thinks.

With his vast outdoorsmen’s experience and everything laid in front of him, Ulric makes a campfire, cleans the fish, and quickly roasts it as they feast.

Eating the roasted fish, Ulric sneaks a couple of glances at Melione. Looking at her, then looking away. He wants to start a conversation, yet he uncomfortably twitches left and right as if possessed; it has been a long time since he had a proper talk with another human being. Living in the wilds as a hermit affects your social skills. Ulric coughs as he turns to Melione.

“Do you see these scars?” Ulric says with an unintentional menacing expression.

Melione looks up in curiosity as she continues munching on her roasted fish on a stick.

“These are the scars I have earned in battle. I got them from battling dangerous foes,” Ulric says as he points at the three scars on his face.

“The first one I got from a witch that used her magic to bewitch others. She lied that she never hurt a soul, even after I thrust my sword through her body. Even after her death, the townspeople remained under her spell as they chased me out. One of the tear-eyed young boys attacked me with a rake, scratching the flesh. But I know better. The Moon knows,” Ulric says as he smiles, reflecting on his bloody memories.

“The second one was an accident in a forest but after that, there was a great...” Ulric speaks as he gets cut off.

“I have a few scars,” Melione says. She finds this conversation strangely interesting.

“You do?” Ulric asks in curiosity.

Melione stands as she removes her dress, catching Ulric in surprise; it has been a long time since he saw the body of the fairer sex. Living in the wild as a hermit affects your romantic life.

Somewhat flustered, he takes a peek. Who wouldn’t take a peek at a beautiful exposed young maiden?

Ulric’s jaw drops as tears flow through his eyes.

In front of him, Melione stands with her upper body revealed. Her fair skin and slim figure reveal an abundance of grotesque scars. Too many to even count; these scars make Ulric’s three scars insignificant.

“Beautiful!” Ulric blurts out.

The thoughts of lust are replaced by those of absolute admiration.

He jumps to her side as he puts back her dress.

“Do not show these to anyone,” Ulric says.

“Why?” Melione asks, tilting her head at the tear-eyed man.

“They are not worthy to see the chosen,” Ulric says.

Night comes as the Moon shines high.

“Are we close?” Melione asks as she lies there staring at the night sky.

“We are. Tomorrow we will make our first step towards fulfilling the will of the Moon,” Ulric says as he closes his eyes, still bearing a smile on his face.

Melione turns to the fire under the moonlight.

“Who is this Moon?” Melione asks.

The voices in her head whisper.

“The Moon!” One says.

“The Moon! Don’t you know?” Two asks.

“She doesn’t know about the Moon,” One adds.

“You don’t know about the Moon?” Two continues.

“The M-o-o-n!” One repeats.

“No. Who is the Moon?” Melione asks as silence ensues.

“We do not know,” One and Two say in unison as they laugh.

Melione gazes at the burning wood as her eyes reflect the ever-changing flames; the warmth touches her skin as it leaves a pleasant feeling. Very pleasant.

There is nothing like a campfire under the Moon.