Moonlight
by
Lisa Kwan
Written for: The Writer's Tower
Theme: Moonlight (January)
Deadline: 5th February 2014
(Written on: 19th January 2014)
I have a secret. A terrible secret.
A secret that is revealed only in
the moonlight; that only the moon knows.
It threatens my very existence, and
the safety of all dear to me. Evidently, this is not by choice. I do not know
the how, or why; but I remember exactly
when it first began, a horrible indelible memory that will follow me forever. It
was on a night like this, the sky pitch black without a single star to be seen,
yet almost as bright as day because of the illuminating pale light from the
moon.
I look up sorrowfully
at the moon, as round as a robin’s egg, and as blinding a white as the pebbles
that lie at the bottom of the Nizhoni river near home. She has witnessed
horrible things happen, at this very spot where I lay, silent and without
judgement. I feel a shiver run down my spine, the beginnings of my curse. And
once again, as I always do, I hope and pray to Mother Earth and the powers of
wind, fire and water, that I have managed to stay far enough away from my
family to keep them safe. Safe from the evil that is me.
Our home is far from where I now lie
still, savouring my last moments before it begins. I shut my eyes and listen to
the sound of my breathing, focusing on breathing in the chilly night air, and
exhaling out my mounting fears as I feel the next shiver, deep within me. I
ignore it. I need to stay calm for as long as possible. As I drift off into
troubled sleep, I dream of my soul mate, Magena, whose name means Moon; named
for the full moon on the night on which she entered this world.
We grew up apart, our families cautious
neighbours who had settled in different parts of the land, separated by the
Nizhoni river. Each had staked a claim on their territories, an unspoken rule
being never to interfere or trespass on the other side, or face dire
consequences; consequences that could lead to bloodshed. Our families enjoyed
peace, but it was a fragile one. We were reared to never fraternise with the
other family, to stay well away to avoid any possibility of destroying the
harmony between us. This practice goes back centuries, long before our oldest
generation’s time. What started it, we do not know. But we know better than to
question the elders.
She had grown up beautiful and
strong. Despite her young age, she was powerful and revered for her hunting
skills. Her reputation reached even my family; but it had little effect on me.
I, myself, was equally revered, having made a name for myself on this side of
the Nizhoni. I had been given the name Cheveyo by our elders, which carried the
meaning Spirit Warrior. And true to my name, I was strong and as powerful as
the legacy my departed father had left me. I knew I was strong, but I had no
idea that I was about to meet my Achilles’ heel one clear moonlit night.
The recent arrival of several newborns
in our family had caused a sudden shortage in food. So a small group of our
best were sent out to bring home meat. Of course, I was to lead the group. We
set out as a pack, silent and deadly, knowing that the survival of our family
depended on us. I gave the signal to split up, trusting my alphas enough to be
able to handle whatever may come on their own. Yet, with one howl, we could
reassemble and take down a mighty bear if necessary. I do not know how else to
describe it but that we may be many, but we are one; of one soul, one essence.
Separated from the others, I crept
alone, my face close to the ground, attuned to the sounds of the forest and
listening for sounds of life; hoping for a young fawn to have wandered away from
its protective mother. Such a creature would provide enough for our young ones,
if only for tonight. But all of a sudden, I stopped dead in my tracks. I
smelled her, long before I could see her. She was foreign, alien; and did not
belong on this side of the Nizhoni. My eyes searched for her—was she hidden
behind the shrubs up ahead, or had she merely passed by? Either way, finding
her would mean her certain death.
At the exact moment I saw her
glowing eyes, she emerged from the darkness and pounced upon a hare that had
been resting at the roots of the cedar tree. I watched silently in awe as she
bit off the throat of the hare, its blood barely spattering; a clean and swift
kill, with the least amount of suffering for the prey. That act alone betrayed
her identity—she had to be Magena, the infamous skilled hunter from the other
side. Still I watched as she lay the hare down gently on its grassy grave, and
bowed her head low before it, as was our custom after each kill; thanking the
Mother for her gracious provision. As she raised her head, I realised her eyes
were locked on mine. It was no surprise that she was completely aware of my
presence the entire time, being the skilled hunter that she was.
As I returned her stare, she knew,
and I knew, that I should kill her right then, and it would be justified. She
was trespassing, outside her territory; and worse, hunting our prey. I stepped forward into the clearing, where she stood with
the dead hare at her feet. When she remained motionless, I moved closer, close
enough to be conscious of the fact that, though she was smaller than me in
size, she exuded confidence and daring. She was intimidating, I would give her
that, especially with her reputation preceding her. But as I continued to stare
unblinking at her eyes, reflecting the glow of the moonlight, I realised she
was neither aggressive nor defensive. I was surprised to find that, despite her
display of cold violence just moments earlier, her eyes were gentle,
compassionate.
Her eyes, I
thought, as I opened my own to stare up at the moon once more, were what drew
me to her. I had met my soul mate, and it was undeniable. We survived enraged
attacks and retaliations from both sides of the families opposing our union. We
survived banishment and isolation from our communities. We endured random
assaults, bloody strikes as we patiently and quietly licked our wounds. And we
embraced them once more, when they finally accepted us and welcomed our young
family, now with Taima, Honovi and Songaa, home.
I instinctively curl up into a ball
as the next searing pain tears through my insides; my ribcage feels about to
burst open from the inside out, to free the monster that is about to emerge. Even
though this has already happened for countless moons, once every full cycle, my
eyes are squeezed shut, trying hopelessly to shut out the unspeakable pain. I
gasp. I stand up on all fours, my hind legs stretched out as far as they can go
as my sharp claws tear at the hard ground before me, leaving deep scratches. In
the involuntary physical jerking and shaking, I bite my tongue with my sharp
teeth, tasting my own blood instead of a young fawn’s or a hare’s. In spite of
all that is happening to me, I notice, and watch, the drops of blood that drip
from my jaw fall on the grey fur of my forepaws. I hear continuous cracks and
breaks as my bones fracture and snap into place. And in my last moments as me,
I raise my head to the moon, soaking in the cursed powers of the moonlight, and
release one final howl.
When I come to, I stare down at my
new body, at the repulsive hairless creature I have become. My forepaws no
longer look like they used to, but now have five long slim appendages that
extend outwards, still sharp and deadly. My hind legs have grown longer but my
tail has disappeared. I stand up on my unstable hind legs, still reeling from
what happened before. I feel the familiar rising urge to kill, to ravage, to
destroy; signalling that my transformation is now complete. I suddenly see
flashes of my past kills in my mind: the terrified face of a young female
human, the blood pouring out of the neck of an adult male, the guts of another
spilling out onto the blood-stained grass.
And the very first, when it all
began: the face of Magena, her eyes still glowing from the reflection of the
moon’s light, as I tore her limb from limb and then tossed what was left of her
carcass into our beloved Nizhoni river. When I realised what I had done, I
howled up to the moon in utter despair. I am a monster, an abomination of
nature, cursed to be imprisoned within this human body, to be slave to its
uncontrollable evil.
If I had to kill, I want it to be
the humans. If I kill them, I protect
my family. I protect them from myself. As I stumble forward towards the lights
of the nearby human village, I forget about my family. I forget about Magena, Taima,
Honovi and Songaa. I see movement in the darkness ahead, and my body surges
forward of its own will, ready for the kill.
I have a secret. A terrible secret.
A secret that is revealed only in
the moonlight; that only the moon knows.
THE END
(Names and
meanings of Native American origin)
Cheveyo = Spirit Warrior
Magena = Moon
Taima = Thunder
Honovi/Songaa = Strong
Nizhoni = Beautiful
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