Beneath the Crescent Moon


It was a crescent moon that night.

There wasn't anything remarkable about that in itself, but for me, crescent moons held a lot of meaning. My life seemed to be eternally linked to them, as if I too came in waxes and wanes just as the moon did.

I was born beneath a crescent moon. Not only that, but it was beneath the same moon all those years later that I found my first love. Our marriage and the birth of our son nine months later also co-incided with this phase of the moon's never-ending cycle.

However, this moon also held memories of darker times. The night my son was killed in a fight, when my wife forsook me, and when I was exiled from my home, charged as a servant of the Devil of the new religion. The crescent moon had also been watching over me the night I discovered my secret. The secret that changed my life forever. Literally.

And now, here I was, sitting beneath the charred remains of an ancient tree struck by lightning long ago, staring up at that same moon and thinking back over all the events of my life that had run alongside it. Thoughts of my family, my friends and everyone I had ever known, every act I had ever commited, every thought I'd ever had. All were irrevocably linked to the slender scimitar of light that now hung in the sky above me.

I stared at the moon all that night, not once moving from my position from beneath the tree. When dawn finally came and the moon's presence faded from the sky, I got up and, taking one last look at the tree above me, turned and strode away towards the horizon. I hadn't slept a wink that night, nor the night before either.

But, then again, I hadn't slept for over five thousand years.

The End

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