Over themoon - prologue and chapter 1

Prologue
Sliphire


Darkness. And cold. Pain beyond pain. Dying.
The moons face fades, the stars go black, but before the shadows can cloud my vision I am swept away.
They say as you die your entire life flashes before your eyes. Now as I lie broken and forever still I gaze upon memories, watching as if through a neglected window, shattered, coated in dust. Staring at memories I never knew I had, memories too long forgotten, memories I had spent years trying to forget and memories that I had hoped to never see again.

***

An unnamed town, unprotected, unarmed and at war. Tiny, insignificant, lying somewhere hidden amidst the Darinlands. Now this land is prosperous and lush, but as a child I had only ever seen the fields and hills soaked in blood. Blood of Kinn, Blood of Demon and of Daricai, Blood of our own warriors. But always the thickest blood on the field was that of the innocent.
“Why?” My first word. “What to we have? A couple of cows, half a field of grain, half a dozen mud huts. What can they gain from us?”
“The enemy think if they storm the small villages we will draw our forces out, leaving cities and forts defenceless.” My father explained to me “Our people know this and refuse to play into the enemies’ hands, even if it means our deaths. We are alone in this war. Forsaken. And we cannot hope to stand and fight. All we can do is wait to die.”
We were completely cut of from the world. We sent out runners and scouts as often as we could spare them, but they never came back. Whole, at least.
And so, under the constant threat of death or worse, we waited in tense silence. Our situation quickly became desperate. It wasn’t war that was threatening us, it was famine. The winter was harsh, the soil to poor to grow crops. The livestock were starving with us, dying to quickly to reproduce.
Despair was driving them insane
My mother claimed I was a protégée, a gift in time of crisis. She said I had immense intellect ad uncanny skill with magic. She said I could save them. She was lying. She knew it. They believed her. I didn’t.
I was evacuated to the Plains, the middle of nowhere so I could study magic under the eyes of Sage Altais, a man who was said to have the power of a god.
I didn’t care. I was two, all I wanted was to stay with my mother and father.
I didn’t know it then but that lie saved my life. The villagers went mad, slaughtered the rest for meat and for fun. Among them, my family.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 1
Sliphire


Twenty-one years had passed. I had not ventured outside the Planes since I first arrived, yet through my studies I knew a great deal about the world beyond the horizon. I spent this particular afternoon dreaming on windowsill. My legs hung down, swaying through the still air. There was no wind to blow shut the pages of book or my hair careless in my eyes. No noise, no movement of any sort, nothing to distract me. So, tell me then, why can’t I concentrate?
I took the pencil I had been chewing absent-mindedly from my mouth, and began to write, letters weaving their way around a maze of doodles. Terrakenisis and its uses in modern day life. … Terrakenisis has many uses, from creating ideal farming land to… uh… um…
Oh, I give up.
I just wasn’t in the mood to work. Sighing I folded the paper into my pocket and left the book lying on the floor. I paced down the hall, leaving echoing footsteps in a trail behind me. Down the hall, through the front room, outside to where a rather feeble well stood. In truth it was little more than a hole in the ground the Sage had built for me a while back.
Back indoors, with my hands clasped around a soaking buckets handle, I made my way to the fireplace, staggering slightly under the weight of a few quarts. The hook upon the wall characteristically creaked and groaned when I poured the water into the pot. I took a bracer from the mantle and clicked it shut around my forearm. Anyone else might think the inscriptions on the bronze plate where purely decorative, although I could not say I’d be inclined to agree. Once you look passed the elegant mysticism, all it really is is an ugly brown blotch spoiling beautiful wrist. No, this piece was designed to provide me with the power I lacked. It was a weak model, for some reason Altais did not feel he could trust me with anything greater.
The runes etched in the side glowed with a bright golden light as I bend it’s magic to my will. A single flame burned in the palm of my hand, dancing as I guided it the kindling. Upon contact an inferno arose from the firewood, devouring all in its path and illuminating the entire room before dying into little more than embers when I removed the bracer.
Maybe it was the fear-induced adrenaline or maybe it was the feeling of power that surged through my body, but as I sat back and waited for the water to boil a grin of silent, manic laughter swept over my face.
Ferocious began bubbles floated freely to the surface then suddenly died with a satisfying POP. My back was to the door as I stood preparing tealeaves at the table, and the fact that sage Altais had entered the room and was now sitting down had gone unnoticed. He leaned forwards over the table, calm and cool, observing me, soundless. Long pale finger rested in his doorknocker beard. A grey sheet hung loosely around his frame. His wrinkled face, dotted with two wise, crystal blue eyes, tinkling in the fires light like little sapphires. Silky white hair ran down his face, past his shoulder thinning down as reached his back. Motionless he watched.
“Having trouble with your assignment, Sliphire?” he inquired. Startled, I dropped the leaves. When I did not answer, he simply continued, “ Procrastinating isn’t going to help, you know.”
“You don’t know that.” I retorted lightly. He met me with a look in his eyes, far more effective than anything I could have thought of. “Alright I’m working on it.” He blinked.
“If you’re stuck, you know I’m always willing to help.” He replied. There was an uncomfortable silence as I scooped the tea up off the floor and stirred them into the water, pretending I was fascinated by the ripples the spoon made.
I secretly wanted him to get bored and stop hassling me, but no such luck. He stuck around until the brew was well over cooked, and I had no choice but to bring two steaming mugs to the table.
As I reached the table he extended his arm in the direction of the hearth, clenched his fist and dousing the fire.
“Sliphire,” he said, “can I see your work.”
“It’s not done…” I answered defensively.
“I know. Can I see what you’ve done so far?”
Obediently, I produced a crumpled piece of paper from my pocket and handed it to him. He unfolded it and cast a despairing glance in my direction.
“Have the last eleven years not meant anything to you? I know you can do this, you’re just not trying” Blushing, I looked down at my drink. I want to say that I couldn’t, I wanted to scream and shout that I was trying. I didn’t bother, though; I knew already my moment of protest would be short-lived.
“Here,” he said kindly, “let me help.”
Let me help. Those were his favourite words. Out of all the words in all the languages the world could offer, he chose those. I’m glad he did, even if sometimes I was too full of stubborn pride to show it.
Outside the sky turned from blue to red, then violet, before settling on an rich indigo, but we sat huddled inside an orb of light. He sat beside me, guiding and teaching with his infinite knowledge while I slumped next to him, staring blankly at meaningless sheet.
“I know you know this.” He encouraged “just concentrate.”
“…Silek Asurn?” I had stopped thinking hours ago, my mind numb from overworking and started spouted any words that happened to drift into my mouth.
His eyes fell, his body sagged with futility “you’ll get it one day” He reassured me.
“Yeah. Right. I’m going to bed.”
Without looking back I stood up and wearily walked to down the hall, my shadow lengthening as I got further away from the light in the kitchen, longer and wider until I turned a corner and it consumed all.