Moonshadow

by J. D. Gregory

  Diana clapped just as hard. It had been an amazing show—likely the best she had ever attended.

  As they were making their way up the aisle and out the door, Darien could not stop talking about the concert.

  “That was simply astounding,” he said. “I had no idea such music existed. Although I have to admit, I haven’t actively researched music since—for some time.” He was obviously holding back what he meant to say—that he hadn’t heard good music in decades.

  Diana smiled wide with smug satisfaction. “I told you there was more out there than pop music and Top Forty countdowns.”

  “My dearest Diana, you have definitely humbled me this night,” he said with a slight mock bow. “I will now admit that modern times can produce musical works of beauty and wonder. Why is this music not popular? It’s genius. They should be selling out arenas and coliseums.”

  “I don’t have an answer for that,” Diana replied. She hated to admit it, but it was true. “I guess it’s just not what people want to listen to today—or they just don’t know about it.” She shrugged her shoulders. “A band may be the most talented musical group in the world, but unless the media gives them coverage, no one will know about them. I found Legacy of Man randomly on the Internet one day and I’ve been a fan ever since.”

  Darien looked troubled by her comments. “I’m not sure I understand this media entity, either. How can it have so much control over a society’s likes and dislikes? From my understanding of what you’ve told me, members of the greater population are not fans of this wonderful musical group because the media never told them to be.”

  “Um—I’m not quite sure you understand.” As she thought it over though, it made about as much sense to her as it did to Darien. “I don’t know,” she said with a shrug. “A lot of people are sheep I guess. They just don’t want to make an effort to look for what’s out there.”

  “Well said, Diana,” he replied as they made their way out though the main doors of the theater and into the street under the glow of the city lights.

  Across the way sat the looming, white, Statehouse with its Neoclassical pillars and circular rotunda, atop which the American flag blew in the night’s winds. Hand in hand, Diana and Darien crossed the street and began walking through the gardens that surrounded the government building. Maurice was to pick them up on the other side.

  Once at the designated pickup location, they decided to sit on a nearby park bench while they waited from him to arrive.

  “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself tonight,” Diana said. “I hope you’ve learned to trust my taste in music from now on.”

  “Oh yes,” Darien replied. “Your taste in music is not as utterly dreadful as I thought. Although, as great as the group was tonight, they pale in comparison to the musical artists of my people.”

  Diana’s curiosity was piqued. “What is your music like?”

  His smile was the usual haughty grin. “We don’t have the wide array of electronically powered instruments that your people have. Our instruments are more classic in nature. After all, humans learned music from us.”

  “I seriously doubt that,” Diana said with her own self-satisfied smile. “You can’t take credit for every innovation in history.”

  Darien appeared to be caught in an exaggeration. It happened from time to time, his face contorting like a mischievous child caught in a lie—it was adorable.

  “Well, we were both taught music by the Fallen. My people were more skilled at the art and taught humans the finer points.”

  “That sounds a little more plausible,” Diana said. “What is your favorite song like?”

  “I shall sing you a sample,” he replied. Though delighted, Diana feared he might bring unwanted attention.

  Darien began to sing in the melodic language of the Naphalei and the words sounded as if they had always been meant to be sung.

  “Va gobo’nagarai Elberonai

  “Barartë ed madartë tril trilier

  “Va Coso’Sin goelai

  “Belartë ed natartë triluvar tril.”

  Diana had to admit, it was probably the most beautiful thing she’d ever heard—though it sounded familiar.

  Then she knew.

  “That was on the monument in the museum.” She grinned at the thought. “It’s the verse I tricked you into reading.”

  “That was nicely done, by the way” he said with his own playful grin. “And good memory. It’s an ancient prophecy. Many of our musical masterpieces are rooted in them. My mother sang that particular canticle to me from before my earliest memories.”

  “What’s it about?” Diana asked, intrigued by the notion of elven prophecies.

  “The verses belong to a larger work known as The Oracles of the Twelve Pillars, believed to have been written by Morael the Seer in the first generation following Elberon’s Tears.” He cleared his throat before offering a translation.

  “From the bowl of Elberon’s Wrath,

  “Your Fathers and Mothers drank deeply.

  “But from the Chalice of the Moon’s Redemption,

  “Your sons and daughters will drink continually.”

  A chill tingled its way up the length of Diana’s spine before coursing through her entire body. Chalice of the Moon’s Redemption? The words of the prophecy filled her with a great deal of excitement.

  “What do you think it means?” she asked.

  “Well, we don’t really know.” Darien replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “Like any prophecy, the true meaning will never be known until it is fulfilled.”

  Diana playfully sneered at his dodge. “That really didn’t answer the question. What do you think it means?”

  Darien thought over the question a moment, obviously trying to present his view in a way that Diana would understand.

  “This prophecy is central to the most common religious beliefs of my people, regardless of how literal the interpretation. Whatever the true meaning is, the redemption of my people will come by drinking of Coso’Sin-—the Chalice of the Moon.”

  “What is the Chalice of the Moon?” asked Diana, finally able to breach the subject she’d been subtly avoiding. The night of the gala, Darien had obviously thought she’d known something about it and she’d wondered if that hadn’t been the real reason he’d asked her out that night. Regardless, he’d grown quite fond of her since then and she had been too afraid to ruin things with her suspicions.

  Darien closed his eyes and sighed. It appeared to be a sensitive subject for him.

  “Time fades all legends,” Darien said. “So we can’t ever be sure. Some say that Udana presented Endymion with the Chalice, and that drinking of it made him immortal. Others say it was their marriage chalice and that they gave the cup to their children as an heirloom, only to be lost with Elberon’s Tears. More accounts exist as well—with varying degrees of lunacy. Many have sought the Chalice over the ages. Some have even claimed to have found it only to lose it again. Chalice quests, and the heroes that embarked on them, have filled our tales since the prophecy first appeared many millennia ago.”

  Diana couldn’t help but be reminded of Flinders’ book of Grail lore. She needed to know if there was really a connection, and if Flinders and Charlotte had been aware of it. “That sounds a lot like our Holy Grail legends.”

  “You’re not wrong,” Darien replied. “Many believe your tales of the Grail sprang from our own quests for the Moon Chalice. Seekers have often searched for their origins only to find they were following their own trails, or the trails of their forebears.”

  The notion was intriguing, to say the least, but it didn’t explain her aunt’s unique twist on Arthurian legend. Somehow, Charlotte had known of the Chalice of the Moon. Perhaps her version of the story was the true one.

  “What about King Arthur?” Diana asked, probing “Most Grail legends that I know of concern the Knights of the Round Table.”

  From the way his eyes twitched, and the fact that he was uncharacteristically not continuing on
with is lecture, the subject was likely very sensitive.

  I knew it. She kept her enthusiastic curiosity from showing.

  “Dangerous question?” she asked, hoping he wouldn’t dodge this one like the others. She was sick of Darien telling her that he couldn’t tell her things “for her own good.” It wasn’t like she was going to run and tell the News.

  Darien nodded. “There’s a reason your historians find no trace of Arthur Pendragon in the historical record—but that is a tale for another time and place.”

  Diana sighed in defeat. Foiled again. Regardless, he’d pretty much just admitted that King Arthur had a connection to the Chalice of the Moon, and that the elves had erased all knowledge of both from the historical records.

  Charlotte and Flinders must have discovered the truth.

  Diana realized just how true her words had been—it was a dangerous question. Perhaps she could find out the truth for herself another way, and keep from getting “taken care of” like her aunt.

  “You never did tell me what you thought the prophecy meant,” she said, coaxing Darien into being a little more eager to divulge information.

  “I suppose I didn’t, I apologize.” He obviously had hoped to dodge her question and now looked somewhat uncomfortable. “The majority still believe that Elberon forsook humanity and that the Naphalei are now the inheritors of his blessings. This was my father’s belief and he raised his children to adhere to it as well.”

  Diana wasn’t all that surprised, especially considering his attitude towards her when they’d first met. He’d softened a bit, sure, but he still barely tolerated other humans. She was glad Darien’s twin wasn’t around; it would probably make their budding relationship that much more complicated.

  “While I agree with many aspects of these views,” he continued. “I have always had doubts.” He looked down at his hands. “My mother raised me to always seek the truth—in everything. It’s always been my way.”

  Diana felt his sadness twisting sharply within her own chest as he recalled memories. She resisted the urge to take him into her arms and console him.

  “Mother would sing me the tales of Endymion and Udana. I enjoyed them because they were always so full of love, tragedy, and hope. It wasn’t until I was older that I realized she didn’t hold the same views as most.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Endymion and Udana are either loved or hated separately, but never together.” He shook his head at the ridiculous notion. “Someone has to be the villain of the story. Either Udana enticed Endymion and corrupted him, or Endymion raped the Moon Keeper to steal her glory. The stories rarely mention their great love for each other.”

  “But isn’t their love the central part of the story?” Diana asked, confused.

  “In the oldest legends, yes, but countless ages have twisted the tales to suit the needs of those who tell them; no one knows what to believe anymore.”

  “That is so sad.” The thought of epic love being used for purposes of hate broke Diana’s heart.

  “My mother thought so too—a conviction she ended up dying for.” Darien turned away from Diana to stare up at the sky. His sadness almost threatened to consume him, but then his expression became very stern and he quickly overcame whatever memory he was repressing.

  “I’m sorry; I didn’t know your mother had died.”

  Darien turned his attention back on her, his face as stone.

  “My parents died over two hundred years ago—I’ve had time to mourn them.”

  “Oh,” was all she could say. Diana always seemed to forget that Darien was a couple years shy of being three hundred.

  “Do you mind me asking how they died?”

  “Not at all,” Darien replied. “Mother had been influenced by a charismatic philosopher named Traevion. He preached that we were all wrong and that the Chalice of the Moon would bring redemption for all Elberon’s children—the Fallen, Mankind, and the Naphalei. He believed that the Chalice would usher in a new age in which our people and the humans could coexist in harmony.”

  “Sounds kind of nice actually,” Diana said. “What’s so bad about that?”

  “It goes against over twenty-thousand years of evidence to the contrary,” Darien replied, his countenance still very unyielding. The subject of his mother’s death had caused him rebuild his walls of hateful prejudice and Diana regretted bringing it up. “Traevion was executed for his heresies and his followers were hunted down and killed—my mother among them. The night they came for her, my father resisted. Even though he had never adhered to the teachings of Traevion, he was killed beside her.”

  Diana couldn’t tell what was more horrible—the death of his parents or that Darien showed no emotion as he told the tale. Diana couldn’t imagine something so horrible happening to her own parents. Religious persecution on that scale had not been in America for quite some time. It was strange to think Darien’s people could be so intolerant of opposing ideologies. In books, elves always seemed like such enlightened beings.

  “One of the last things I remember mother telling me was that hatred and prejudice will keep the Chalice hidden forever, and that only love will make it finally appear. She died believing that, even as they beheaded her for it.”

  Darien’s gaze grew very intense, the anger finally building behind his stone-gray eyes. “The Chalice prophecy means war, dissension, and death—that is the only interpretation I know.” He slammed his fist down on the metal of the bench and Diana’s core reverberated as the ground underneath them quaked and cracked at his rage. “Whatever the blasted cup is, I will find the damned thing and put an end to it.” The conviction in his eyes was as hard as rock.

  “That’s why you became a Seeker, isn’t it?” Diana knew it was true. “You’re searching for the Chalice.”

  He nodded that she was right. “I’ve been all over the world in the past one hundred and fifty years. I have followed every lead, every legend, and every whisper. If it exists, I will find it—and if it’s only a myth, I will prove it.”

  “Then why are you here, in the middle of Ohio? Shouldn’t you be off in the Middle East somewhere?” She couldn’t figure what could possibly make Darien look for a fabled relic in the American Mid-West. Unless—. “You think Flinders knew something.”

  From Darien’s curious eyes and arched brow, Diana knew she was right.

  “Yes, I do,” Darien finally replied. “And so do you, it would seem.”

  If she wasn’t careful, Darien was going to grow suspicious and quit talking to her about it. He may even go so far as break things off with Diana and hand her over to the Naphalei authorities.

  “It just makes sense,” she said with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders. “He found the Chalice stele; who knows, maybe he figured out your language, or one of your people helped him to, and he eventually found the Chalice. From what I know of the man, it sounds plausible.”

  “My thoughts exactly,” Darien replied, his look of curiosity relaxing as he crossed his arms over his chest.

  Diana fought the urge to sigh in relief.

  “I was a part of an excavation of ancient Troy when I first came into contact with Foxwell Flinders,” Darien continued. “He was attempting to link Homeric legends with Atlantis, and his studies naturally piqued my interest, so I decided to shadow him to see if he produced results. While I was making my reports to Keeper Jerek in Qir’Halzereth, my contacts informed me that Flinders had unearthed the Chalice Stele, claiming it to be an important discovery in his search for ‘the Holy Grail of Atlantis.’

  “Flinders could have had his own cable show,” Diana said with a smirk.

  Unsure of her joke, Darien just shrugged and continued. “I made my way to his expedition as fast as I could, but the First World War had broken out by the time I arrived. Flinders and his crew had scattered across the world. I eventually tracked Flinders to England, but the man had disappeared. He finally resurfaced over a decade later, having given up his old life to settle in
America as a minister, using the last of his wealth to start his church and found the college. I enrolled myself, but had to cut my investigation short when the Second World War began. In the aftermath of the Watcher Mandate, I was drafted into the order and it has taken me this long to get back to continuing my investigations.”

  “Then it’s settled,” Diana declared with a wide smile

  Darien laughed. “What is, may I ask?”

  “I’m going to help you find the Chalice of the Moon.”

  If Diana played the hand she’d been dealt with an expertly crafted strategy, perhaps she’d be able to help Darien solve the mystery that had been plaguing him since childhood and uncover her own truths as well. Somehow, she knew the Chalice was central to all her unanswered questions—perhaps it may even explain why the Veil had chosen to torment her rather than some other unsuspecting human.

  Let the quest begin.

  Chapter 11

  O Silver Shining Moon, Queen of the Night.

  Where would you be without your starry maids?

  Am I, a Queen of Earth, no different?

  I am nothing without my loyal friends.

  “So, how is he in the sack?” Lani asked.

  Diana very ungracefully choked on bran flake and then brought a fist up to her mouth in a fit of coughing. Eventually she was able to dislodge the obstruction, but by then, half of the cafeteria had stopped eating their breakfasts to see what all the commotion was about.

  “Are you okay, Diana?” Eric asked with concern and Diana nodded. “Geeze Lani, you almost killed her. It’s none of your business anyway.”

  “Quiet you,” Lani said playfully with eyes narrowed at her boyfriend before looking back to Diana. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to catch you so off guard.” Her mouth twisted in a wicked grin. “So…spill it. Guys like him tend to be all show and no play—if you know what I mean. I’m just curious if Darien Shepherd lives up to expectations.”

  Diana just stared at her friends blankly and then returned her attention to the bowl of cereal.