At War with the Moon: The Ascension of a Prophet

Chapter 7: Chapter VI: Gazing at the moon.


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Isaac hid in the shadows the street’s corner wrapped around him, waiting for his chance to jump out. He looked at the sky, waiting for Tyrannia’s signal. His plan was pretty simple: have the goddess be a lookout. Once no one was watching, run and snatch the child away from their parent’s corpse. Then they would try to find some sort of high-income shop, maybe a tailer of a blacksmith, knock on their door, and leave the kid there. If they took the kid in, good. If they didn’t, they’d try with another home.

At a first glance, no one could tell the baby was one of the scourged. The only reason people knew of his condition was because they had seen it being carried by the robbed figure. So, as long as they got far enough away from the area, no one would suspect a thing.

Isaac knew this was nothing more than a token effort, of course. For all he knew, the infant could show symptoms of being cursed tomorrow morning and be thrown away like a used tissue. He was sure Tyrannia knew that was well. It was a stab in the dark, hoping that the child would remain safe until this city was on their hands. They would decide what to do then. The goddess had tried to convince him he was doing enough, and that trying to come back for it later would just mean hurting himself, but the man wasn’t so sure. There had to be a way to break the curse.

And if not, he would make a way.

A flash of light entered the prophet’s vision. Anyone else would have thought it a mere reflection of the moonlight, but not him. Instantly, he darted out of the street, running as fast as he could. He had to make sure no one could see him, otherwise people might have asked questions, or talked about the giant of a man that was seen running around with a cursed child.

Luckily for him, this new body of his was up to the test. He moved faster than he had ever moved. It took him less than five seconds to close the distance between him and the body. Isaac double-checked, just in case, but as he suspected, the parent was dead. The baby cried and wailed, trying to make itself noticed. The prophet took it in his arms as careful as he could, wrapped it tighter in its own clothes, and darted away in the same direction he had come in.

Seconds later, the shadows enveloped the duo. The entire operation had taken less than twenty seconds. Isaac doubted anyone had seen them. The baby, much to his surprise, had calmed down significantly in what little time it took to make it back to his hiding spot. The goddess was already hovering above them, several dozen meters into the air. She dropped in what looked more like a controlled fall than any sort of flying, unfolding her wings again just as she was about to hit the ground.

By the time Tyrannia made it to the street level, the baby was already falling asleep.

 


 

Knock, knock.

The sound of the door woke Daidard up. His wife shifted on their bed, slightly annoyed, her furry ears twitching.

“You get it.” She half yawned; half growled.

“Yea’, yea’.” The older man nodded. It took him a couple of minutes before he made it out of bed, too tired to properly move.

He made his way towards the front of his workshop, grabbing a heavy hammer from his blacksmithing tools, just in case. You never knew in this city. Luckily for him, his night vision had been more than enough to avoid trouble so far.

“The shops’ not open, you arse.” The man said as he approached the door. “Who da’ hell is needs a sword made this late?”

No answer. After a minute of silence, Daidard opened the front door, hammer in hand, ready to strike if need. A small cry caught his attention. When he looked down, he found a baby lying at his feet.

“Huh?”

Before he realized what he was doing, he picked up the child in his arms. It was a human kid, a pretty cute one, he had to admit. Green eyes, a bit of red hair, round cheeks...The baby — Daidard noticed it was a boy — was missing the usual fox ears and tail his kind had, and his eyes were normal, but he would have not looked too distinct from his wife, standing side by side.

“Who is it?” the woman spoke as she approached the door, knife in hand.

“Mona, here. Come look at this.”

“What do you-aww,” she cooed as soon as she saw the baby. “Oh my god, they didn’t...”

“Yea’. Left at our doorstep, just like that.”

“...poor thing.” The woman’s eyebrows dropped. “Is he...” she trailed off.

“Looks dat way to me.” The older man shrugged. “Didn’t the dogs next door also abandon their child a few moons ago?”

“This world is going to the gutters. Oh, there is something written here.” The woman pointed out a piece of cloth lying by their door. It was black, looked old. A message was inscribed on the material. Her tails slowly twitched around as she read it.

‘Dear blacksmiths, the Goddess of the Dammed has decided to bless this household with a newborn. We hope it will bring joy and new light to your lives. This baby has an important role to play in the future. Please, take care of him. Hard times will come soon, for you and for this entire world. Consider this our gift, and our wish, that you will make it through and see him grow into a proud member of your family.

Do not speak of this letter to anyone.

We will meet again, when her wings eclipse the azure moon.’

By the end of the small letter, Mona was skipping. “Look, dear. They say is a gift for us. For us!”

“Goddess of the Dammed? Which one of the seven is that one?” The man scratched the back of his head, confused.

“Does it matter?”

“That’s blasphemous, woman...” the man sighed, but then smiled. “So...what are we gonna call him?”

The man and his wife entered their home, a smile plastered on both of their faces, not noticing the two pairs of eyes watching them from the rooftops. 

 


                                                                                                                                                                            

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“I just realized there are two moons.” Isaac commented as he looked up at the sky. He was lying down on the rooftop, having given himself five minutes to rest before continuing their flight.

“You did not see it before?” the deity chuckled, lying next to him. He was using her wings as a sort of mattress. Her idea. They made for rather comfortable pillows, he had to admit.

“Nope. What are they called?”

One of them was azure, the other one crimson. The former was the larger of the two by far, but they both were significantly bigger, or maybe closer, than Earth’s own satellite.

“The red one is called Velphelor. The azure one, Valvaroth. There used to be another green one called Volgaloth.”

“What happened to it?”

“It was brought down during the war. A tribe of wolfkin did it. Their descendants are now called the Moonhounds for that reason.”

“They...huh, brought down the moon?”

“Indeed.” The woman chuckled again. She had been in a way better mood for the past few minutes. “There was also an elven warrior who could split mountains in half with a swing of her sword. Her descendants died out half a millennium ago, as far as I am aware.”

“...am I gonna be okay?”

“Do not worry. This world’s power has been in decay since my imprisonment. Mortals do not have access to that kind of abilities anymore. Most of them do not, at least.”

A couple of minutes passed on comfortable silence the watched night sky. It was a breathtaking sight. Isaac felt like he could see the entire universe from this simple rooftop. Stars extended in all directions – an endless sea of lights. The two moons danced around the planet. The man saw the arm of the galaxy drawing in all the colors of the firmament. Countless minor planets dotted the heavens, and the man could almost imagine himself touching one of them with his hands. This was a view that could not be found anywhere on Earth.

“Now that you mention it.” Isaac broke the silence once he realized something. “Didn’t you mention the name Valvaroth before?”

The woman nodded. “Indeed. The home of the gods.”

“I’m sorry? We’re fighting the moon?”

“We are fighting the moon.”

Isaac blinked, unable to speak for a moment. What the fuck had he gotten himself into? After a second, he sighed, shrugged, and decided not to think about it. The woman had not been lying about the difficulty of their mission.

“...crazy world.”

“Crazy indeed. I did warn you this would not be easy.”

“You did. Where are we going now?”

“Slime hunting.” The woman intertwined her fingers and stretched her arms towards the sky as they audibly popped.

“Slimes?”

“They devour anything you throw at them. Metal, wood, food... it is all the same to them. They can rapidly clear out entire forests if left unchecked. But they are also incredibly weak. They inhabit areas around castle walls and city outskirts. I am hoping we find a sizeable enough to group to train you, and after that, maybe a powerful one to serve as your other summon.”

“Should we get going?”

“...in a minute.” The deity replied. “We have time.”

“...alright. You sure is okay for me to just...lie here?” the man asked, patting her wings.

“Hush. I have always been told my feathers are comfortable.” She shrugged. “Back in my day, people would have killed to touch my wings, let alone to use them as pillows, but...I believe you deserve it.”

Once again, a moment of comfortable silence ensued. This time it was Tyrannia the one to break it.

“...thank you.” She deity whispered. “For saving that child.”

“Don’t mention it.” Isaac replied as he closed his eyes. “You did give me your entire empire, didn’t you?

“I suppose I did.”

“Then this is the least I can do. I will save your people. I promise. The kid we have helped today will be the first of many.”

The deity closed her eyes as well, slightly nodding with a light smile on her lips. “Today marks the start of our conquest. One child tonight, one nation tomorrow.”

The man stretched a hand towards the sky.

“Yeah. One day.”  

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