The New Moon

In the dark night,
The dark night of the new moon,
When little light shines down from the heavens,
The wolf sheds a tear.
A sweet tear of loving sadness,
For the beloved orb of it's mother
Does not shine this night.
The wolf howls in anguish,
And his pack hears
His high pitched cry.
They join his call to the moon.
The wind blows the clouds of desert sand
To dry the tears of it's sister's children.
The desert flowers send out their sweet scent,
To console their loving cousins.
And their uncle (the rain) falls
To add a loving hug,
As he pats down on the wolves fur.
And adds a wordless thanks to the Earth
For staying strong and firm,
In adding reassuring strength.
And yet the wolves cry,
As their tears streak into their maw.
Their tears taste of the salty love of the sea,
And the bitter anguish of the soul.
And still the wolves cry.
As the stars shine down to reassure,
The wolves cry.
They cry until their father shines down,
And he tells them
That the moon will be back tonight
And they cry no longer.

The sweet scent of death wafts up from the ocean shore. Liriel's eyes widen in utter horror as many forms of ocean life drift to the shore in a rotting ensemble. "Oh God," Liriel thinks, "What is happening?" With that she runs back to the harbor, tripping and falling over dead and deformed fish, and crabs.

Awakening with a sweat, Liriel looks to the world outside in hope of a glimpse of sunshine. She hopes in vain. Three knocks boom through the halls of her home. She answers the door, and a dark form sweeps her off her feet.

"I live my life for thee, my lady," the shadow whispers words in her ear with all his natural bravado.

"Jackson Kaye! Put me down now!" Liriel insists, slapping his face to accentuate her words.

"I was only jesting! I heard a scream and thought a thief present. The sharp edge of my rapier blade was hungry for a taste of his throat," boasts the ever quick Jackson, with a wink of his eye and a tip of his broad brimmed hat.

"Good-bye Jackson," she replies with a slam of her door.

In the morn, Liriel sits on her doorstep, watching, admiring the sleeping form of her gentle guard. Jackson Kaye is a tall handsome man, young and always boasting of his deeds. Liriel, sighing, tries to sneak past his always-aware form. It did not work. She does not know that. The shadow that is Jackson follows close behind her, unseen, unheard, and ever aware.

Liriel walks through the market-square aware of the poverty and disease present in the streets. Her anger grows as beggers grasp at the hem of her dress. Her anger is directed at the directed at the hardship that society is built upon, and not the poverty that they live in.

She walks to a man who appears as if he belongs not in the poor market-square, but in a high society home. He is a tall man, dressed in silks, and very handsome. Apart from his dress, however, he is a man trained to kill. Taut muscles lay beneath silk, and a sharp sword is hidden within his cane. Decepton is a part of protection.

"Captain Gabriel Vistea?" she asks with a slight hint of fear. One can never be sure what this man will do. His job is based in intrigue and deals in espionage.

"Yes, my dear?" he asks; though he already knows the answer to her unspoken question. He answers quickly. "The sages, and priests believe the cause of the disease to be the wrath of God. I know the cause is far more mundane, and probably an attempt to drive us from our town. I, however, don't have the personal to investigate further." He states bluntly, never blinking, and never looking to her face. An emotionless mask, one never knows what this man may be thinking.

"Thank you and goodbye," with these last words, Liriel leaves the mysterious man. She looks back to catch a last glimpse of him but he is gone. "I wonder if anyone truly knows that man," she whispers in awe. Jackson close behind smiles as he shrugs.

Liriel walks home quickly after her interview hoping to sleep well. The demon that is sleep quickly takes her into his grasp. She knows she hoped in vain.

Liriel wakes in a cold sweat. "Why do they chant? What demons are in me?" she wonders. "The Captain has not the people to search for the source of the poison. Then I will," she thinks to herself with bravado equal only to Jackson's.

Unseen, unheard, and very far away from the homes of those who know him. Captain Gabriel Vistae smiles a wise and knowing smile few have ever seen before.

"Jackson! Come on! Here boy!" Liriel addresses him as a dog.

"Yes my lady love?" a barely visible shadow speaks from behind her, with typical bravado.

"We leave tonight. We are going to find what is poisoning the harbor," she replies with equal bravado. Jackson's smile lay unseen.

Hours later they sit at the top of a hidden alcove. On the shore lay two watch fires and luck is not with them.

"Alert, alert!" a wild cry rings out.

"Damn them all!" Jackson Kaye curses with bitter words. He charges the four figures that rush towards him. One thrust of his rapier blade steals the breath of life from one man. A deft twist of his dagger with a quick slash of his rapier tear both sword and life from another. So the battle continues for a few more minutes.

"Damn that hurt!" A bloody shadow, more crimson than black, states bluntly.

They return with speed to the harbor where Jackson Kaye relays quickly the events to the good Captain.

"Captain, vile rouges are poisoning the harbor, thus killing the ocean life. I suggest that immediate action is taken. Plans must be made to stop this villinous action. This is a threat to us all!" Jackson bluntly states what the Captain already knows.

"Yes we should," Gabriel says, a distant look in his black eyes. "Jackson get those wounds looked at," he says, snapping back to matters at hand.

"Yes sir! But may I return to my present assignment for a while?" Jackson asks with more of an uncharacteristic whine, than his normal bravado. With no answer forthcoming he sulks out to the physician.

Seeing that the Captian is worried of other things Liriel decided to seek company elsewhere, perhaps with that impetuous young man, Jackson. But who truly knows Gabriel any way?

The stores are open and the market busy. People wear somber masks as I walk by. A fear begins to creep into my heart. As my destination comes into view I notice that even the trees seem darker, wielding foreboding and frightening claws instead of branches. Though they are feathered with leaves they remain skeletons, fleshless and horribly open. With a cold sweat dripping from my brow I am finally able to tear my gaze from the tree. Patting the sweat from my forehead I enter the weapon shop.

"Good morn Tom," I greet the master of this shop.

"Tis not a good morn Gabe, there is evil in the air! The wind speaks with horrible foreboding, it brings with it a bad omen!"

As he speaks those words Tom's eyes dance a psychotic, hypnotic dance. One that brings thoughts of Daemons and Undead, but 'tis naught but nervous feelings. I shrug my shoulders and continue.

"To what do you mean Tom?" I laugh a nervous laugh as I speak those words. "You are starting to sound like one of those superstitious doom bringers of old. Tom we are educated men. Think man! What could possibly happen do to the weather?"

As I speak the words of logic, trying to reassure my friend and myself, Tom's face turns to a ghastly pale and his eyes go wide fear clearly showing on his face. Then he moves towards me.

"You must go! Here take your sword, and leave the gold on your way out. And please do not come back!"

With that he kicks me out of his shop, and I go to my ship. Though the seas are rough I set sail, much like I had all those years ago during the war. It's like, deja vu, only now I go to think not fight. Alas, those were good times, the war. How I miss them! The respect, how I miss it.

It is much like it had been when I sailed off to battle.

"Captain! Captain! Captain Vistae!"

"Yes midshipman Shork, what is it?"

"The Turks are almost to the harbor, and we have no defenses!"

As I glanced around at the crowd that had already accumulated, I saw looks of terror, and question. Yet a decision had to be made and I had to make it.

"We must go and meet them at the harbor's mouth,"

"But Gabe we are outnumbered! Please don't go!"

"I must, there is no other choice, the town must be saved."

As I left for the docks I looked back to my wife, her face had showed absolute anguish and fear. We trekked through the Market Square with dark and solemn faces staring at us all the way.

On the ship many were sea sick, pale faces spitting green ooze into the blue and white churning seas. The wind blew the sails full of air, billowing pillows upon cracked and aged trees. Then we spotted the Turks!

A fierce battle, with much blood spilled. The seas turned to a dark red, and with all men dead on both sides and the ships sunk, I am the only survivor. Though the town was saved, with the number of dead, the families could not support themselves.

Now here I sit, three years later reminiscing on thoughts of old, still Captain Gabriel Vistae, but just a little sadder.

But what is that strange glow? I dive into the cold water. The rough waters numb the skin. I dive down farther until I reach the wrecks. With my blood rushing and my lungs burning, I grab the planks and see the glow. There upon the Turks vessal my former sword is glowing, though still imbedded withing the head of the Turkish Captain who was my enemy, still fresh and life like! I swim to him and slowly withdraw my blade from deep within his skull, and then I fall into the realm of unconsciousness where all is black.

I awake to my bedchamber with my former blade posted upon the wall above my hearth. Ah! My Captains sword, my honor restored! And yet my newer more fashionable blade lays within it's scabbard within a pile of wet clothed. I look to the world outside these walls and see the sun shining!

"'Tis a good morn indeed!"