Crescent Moon

by David Partelow

  Crescent

  Moon

  David Partelow

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, adventures and misadventures are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, elves, pantheryns, dwarves, dragons, gnomes or other magical creatures, living or dead, events or locales is completely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2018 David Partelow

  Cover by OliviaProDesign

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 1985629348

  ISBN-13: 978-1985629349

  DEDICATION

  At the start of it all, for the beginning of this brand new world that is Lunaria and Crescent Moon, I couldn’t consider anyone else other than my daughter. This journey began as a story that refused to be denied, but became a legacy and magical place that I could pass on to you. So that no matter what, you could always find me and know that I love you now and for always.

  This story is for you, Lilianna.

  CONTENTS

  Acknowledgments

  i

  1.

  Mathias

  1

  2.

  The Gathering Stars

  8

  3.

  And So They Meet

  14

  4.

  The Right Thing

  27

  5.

  The Kelpie

  38

  6.

  Beauty and the Weed

  47

  7.

  The Mighty One

  61

  8.

  Birds and the Bane

  70

  9.

  Stirring Darkness

  79

  10.

  The Kobold’s Pond

  87

  11.

  Decisions

  99

  12.

  A Chance at Freedom

  115

  13.

  The Price of Choices

  121

  14.

  Deciding Destiny

  128

  15.

  The Flight and Fall

  136

  16.

  Storming Darkness

  144

  17.

  Saying Goodbye

  147

  18.

  Repercussions

  153

  19.

  Seeds That Are Sown

  163

  20.

  Defining Moments

  167

  21.

  Awakening

  171

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  So many wonderful people had a hand in helping me shape the world of Crescent Moon, and I need to thank some of them here at the start of it all. Crescent Moon has been a long time coming, and the journey has only truly just begun.

  Ingrid Anderson for being my muse. When this story was slowly forming, she listened with such enthusiasm, offering suggestions and helping me see Crescent Moon in its entirety. She saw this world and believed in it deeply and for that I will always be eternally grateful.

  Kelsey Hendricks for her endless enthusiasm. Kelsey became a huge fan of this world early on and I would let her read for much needed feedback. She never let me down and her words and love for the story pushed me to continue writing Crescent Moon.

  Heidi Van Hook for being the best kind of supporter an author could have. Creating worlds is daunting, but it is an endeavor made easier by having support that never wanes. Heidi has never doubted me for a second and is never afraid to tell the world about the works I have created.

  And to you, who are reading this now, you have my thanks. Welcome to the world of Lunaria, and I certainly hope you enjoy your journey.

  Crescent Moon

  Mathias

  Mathias Engleborn was, in every sense of the word, a dreamer. His father had surmised as much from the get go, when his son had opened his eyes for the very first time. The swell of pride and emotion had enveloped Mark Engleborn completely the moment he became a father. But even in such a moment, the spark in his new son’s eyes could not be mistaken. His wife had soon agreed, both knowing without knowing how or why. Their lives would never be the same, for they now had Mathias to share a new chapter of life together.

  And hardly ever was there a dull moment.

  From the moment he could walk and talk, young Mathias explored all that he could. He was a never-ending fount of questions, much to the joy and dismay of his parents. And always did Mathias wish to be read to, up until the day he could read for himself, of course. Such things made him sharp, but more importantly it sparked within him a near limitless imagination and curiosity. Truth be told, it often made him quite the handful. Yet through it all, Mathias was an earnest kid and a good son.

  Now at the age of twelve, Mathias and his imagination offered no signs of slowing. With sports only a minor interest, father and son had contented themselves in sharing their common interest of the library. Mathias, or Matty as his father often called him, could spend hours exploring the fiction, always ready to be whisked away on a new adventure. His appetite for it was voracious, often much to the disbelief of his waiting father and the annoyance of the old librarian Mr. Dackett. Every visit to the library was met with a disapproving remark or stern scowl from the ancient keeper of books, for the elder man had grown weary of the endless enthusiasm Mathias brought with his visits.

  This of course, didn’t trouble Mathias in the least as he scoured the shelves for the next great undertaking.

  Mathias’s most recent visit still rang heavy in his mind, as it was the basis of his current troubles. Now back at home, the young man laid on his bed with his head draped over the end. With his arms crossed, Mathias stared sternly at the book sitting upon his desk. He had fully intended on spending the rainy Saturday reading to his heart’s content, yet this new acquisition was giving him fits. Presently, Mathias was replaying his time at the library, where he had procured his newest book in record time.

  Still staring, Mathias growled at his quarry. “This is it, book. You and I are going to have to come to some sort of an understanding. I know you have a story in there and I intend to find it. And yes, I just might be crazy talking to you, but it’s just you and me here,” he said, never taking his eyes off the ancient-looking book before him. He couldn’t help but feel like it was taunting him somehow. Or at the very least whispering “try harder.”

  Frustrated, Mathias rewound the library visit in his mind yet again. The drive there with his father had been slow and steady through the pouring rain. Mark had asked his son to not dawdle. Complying, Mathias had rushed right for the fiction section, much to the aggravation of Mr. Dackett. The old man had teased him with his usual manner, crossing his arms and focusing relentlessly through his battered glasses. To Mathias, Mr. Dackett had always felt like a grumpy guardian of books who had sacrificed his humor for miles of wrinkles somewhere along the way.

  “You’re back. Again. I would like to say I was somehow surprised. So what rubbish shall you be exploring today? Will it be a foray with dragons and wizards? Perhaps you wish to galivant with some unicorns or storm a castle with a loathsome bunch of druids once more?” That had been Mr. Dackett’s greeting. He adjusted his sweater vest as he spoke, never taking his piercing gaze from his target.

  Mathias had offered an honest smile and shrug, unaffected by the librarian’s jeering. “Well you will be the first to know when I find it, Mr. Dackett,” he said, his enthusiasm easily deflecting the librarian’s assault.

  The old man somehow scowled further. “You could always do something more constructive with your time,” he huffed.

  Mathias had grinned devilishly at Mr. Dackett by then. “You are very right. I could return and g
ive you a full and detailed report on what I’ve read. I could see how you might enjoy that,” replied the young man.

  Waving him by, Mr. Dackett had turned to Mark Engleborn. “Impossible boy you have there for the record, Mr. Engleborn,” he mumbled.

  Mathias’s dad had chuckled at this. “Mr. Dackett, you have no idea,” he had replied.

  Then Mr. Dackett had called out gruffly to Mathias once more. “Would it hurt you to pick up a biography or historical piece?” Some of the patrons looked angrily at Mr. Dackett, though none were brave enough to shoosh him.

  “Not where I wish to be right now,” countered Mathias from over his shoulder as he continued forward.

  “Well, try it for a change!” Mr. Dackett yelled. To his surprise and anger, he discovered there was one who would shoosh him.

  And it was Mathias of course.

  As Mr. Dackett grumbled at his desk, Mathias went down an aisle of books, letting hands touch their covers as he relished the feel and smell of the books surrounding him. He did not go far before his hand caressed the book currently in his possession. Somehow, Mathias knew the book he touched was new to him, and he was compelled to procure it slowly from the shelf. The book was sturdy, yet looked tired and old in its leather cover as the young man read its title out loud.

  “Crescent Moon,” said Mathias as he held to the book with reverence.

  To his surprise, there was nothing but these words on the book, no author name or description of the contents. Along with the title there was simply the letters C and M, shimmering in the faintest of gold, dusty and ancient. These letters were within a beautiful symbol of a crescent moon, forged like a shield crest representing light and dark equally. There was nothing dazzling about the book, yet somehow it held the young man spellbound.

  Mathias simply stood there, holding Crescent Moon in his hands, feeling from it a sensation that felt like subtle, beckoning magic. He fought the urge to open it there, for Mathias had made a promise to his father about being quick and keeping the mystery of the book enticed him fully. Yet even this was difficult, for it was as if the book itself was urging him softly. Pulling himself from the compulsion, Mathias secured the book under his arm before heading back toward the front.

  The mystery of the book continued when he returned to Mr. Dackett and placed it upon the counter. Scowling at Mathias as his father remarked on his record time, Mr. Dackett had picked up the aged book and looked upon it for a long pull. Mathias could have sworn Mr. Dackett had paled as he regarded Crescent Moon. This quickly faded as the librarian’s usual grimness returned and then worsened.

  “Out of the question,” he had barked as he pulled the book closer to himself. “I don’t know how this made it to the shelves, but it is not for reading and it shall not leave this library for any reason.”

  Mathias could not help but chuckle at this. “A pretty funny notion within a library if you ask me,” he had countered.

  The young man and librarian had quarreled back and forth then. Mr. Dackett had tried to tell Mathias that such a book would not interest him anyway. This in turn only doubled the young man’s desire to read it. For every attack Mr. Dackett attempted, Mathias was able to counter with logical responses, further frustrating the librarian. All the while, Mark Engleborn stood back, crossing his arms as he wore a grin. He knew this was not an argument that Mr. Dackett could win, but it was certainly fun to watch the old man try.

  “Look,” Mr. Dackett had said as he placed the book down between them. “I understand you love to read. But this book is meant for a vault or a glass case. It is not to be trusted in the hands of a child. Give up your pursuit and find another adventure for your incessant mind,” he spat, looming over the counter for emphasis.

  At last, the grin Mathias held grew triumphant as he opened the book’s cover and placed his finger upon the inside of it. “Then why, oh why, does it have a checkout sleeve, Mr. Dackett?” he asked.

  “I am afraid he has you there in a checkmate,” added Mark Engleborn.

  At last, after a little more huffing and puffing, Mr. Dackett relented, stamping the card in the check-out sleeve. “Oh, very well. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. I look forward to you returning in disappointment. And when you do, you bring back that book directly to me. I wish to see your face and ensure you didn’t harm library property in any way,” the librarian had said.

  Taking the book in his hands, Mathias offered the librarian the most confident of smirks. “Not going to happen in either regard, Mr. Dackett. And we’ll see you sooner than later,” he said before turning and departing with his father. In the distance, both could hear the disapproving words of the old librarian as they departed.

  The ride home had felt longer than normal. Mathias had held to the book with great care, careful not to let it get exposed to the rain. Reaching the house, he had thanked his dad, grabbed a snack and kissed his mom before retreating quickly to his room. Now comfortable, Mathias had hunkered down to explore the mysteries that were waiting within the pages of Crescent Moon. With anticipation driving him crazy, Mathias drew a deep breath and opened the book at long last.

  And in it, he found nothing but old, blank pages.

  As hungry as he was for adventure and mystery, Mathias had to admit he had not been prepared for such a surprise. He sifted through each page, yet beyond a few lines upon the first page within, Mathias found nothing, nor discovered anything that would help him solve the mystery of the book. Was this some sort of joke? He was almost certain Mr. Dackett was cackling from behind his counter back at the library. Growing more frustrated, Mathias returned to the only words within the entire book and read them aloud.

  The way you seek is but a door

  In words, you read and mold the key

  To paths reborn forevermore

  An answer dwells there, still and true

  The surest path to Crescent Moon

  Is forged upon belief in you

  Mathias read these words dozens of times, to himself and aloud until he could stand it no longer. Placing the book as it now rested upon his desk, Mathias then lost himself in thought. After much sulking and fist shaking, he brought himself to his present state, staring at the book upside down from his bed. The blood rushing to his head did little to aid his quest, instead compounding his growing frustration.

  At last, Mathias pulled himself upright and looked at his mirror on the other side of the room. His hastily combed brown hair was beginning to show signs of his defeat. He wore a t-shirt revealing his love for superheroes and faded blue jeans as he stared sternly at himself with his faintly hazel eyes. And while his frustration was evident, the glimmer of the fire was still there in those eyes. Mathias was not planning on giving up just yet.

  “There has got to be something to this, I just know it,” he said.

  The aggravation was still mounting, but the young man was not about to let a book best him. Mathias knew there was more to be found in Crescent Moon. Mr. Dackett would not have made such a scene over nothing at all. The young man trusted somehow that there was an answer waiting for him. All he had to do was discover it for himself.

  Mathias looked in the mirror a final time. “A fat lot of help you were,” he said dismally to his reflection before he turned and reclaimed Crescent Moon.

  Holding the book gently again, Mathias opened the cover to look upon the six little lines that encompassed the entire contents within. Instantly, Mathias accepted he was going about it wrong. His desire to understand the mystery was fueling frustration and it was frustration he did not need. Instead, he read the lines again slowly, believing fully in them and the hope that there was in fact more to see than met the eye. Reading aloud one more time, Mathias ran his fingers softly across the yellowing page before him, placing his concentration and trust into the endeavor completely.

  To his utter surprise, more words began to appear!

  Mathias’s eyes widened as the faint traces of new words emerged. The excitement grew inside him as he cont
inued running his fingers softly across the pages. Soon the lines fully revealed themselves as a soft chill filled Mathias. The ancient font and words drew the young man in like a magical incantation as he spoke the combined lines aloud, letting them join like a lock and key:

  Wars must be waged, and battles fought

  Where heroes stand with conscience clear

  As Light against the growing Dark

  To face the blight and rising doom

  The Dreamer stands above all fear

  And holds the fate at Crescent Moon

  Turning the page, Mathias was surprised yet again as he found the next pages full of story. He could barely contain himself as he readied for his journey. Within moments he was drawn completely to the story, unable and unwilling to break away. His attention then shifted to a cloaked figure walking through a magical world, and all his focus set upon a mysterious traveler known as The Prophet.

  Act One

  The Gathering Stars

  Through closed eyes, the one known only as the Prophet traversed upon a voyage of time and space. It was a gift of sorts, one bestowed upon him from ages passed, born from the darker times of revelation through the perilous price of victory. The world of Lunaria, his home, called to him now and in that calling came the visions once more. The stars whispered of the coming of the Crescent Moon, awakening the forge to strike again at destiny and fate.

  And the Prophet was not ready.

  For years lost to counting, the Prophet observed his world from shadows and distances, careful with his help and council. In that span he had grown ancient, a legend to all but the most timeless of creatures in Lunaria. The Prophet had watched the Saelen Kingdom flourish in this span and had allowed himself the luxury of savoring such a peace. Yet he also knew that such a blessing was fleeting, and that the darkness would someday return. And sadly, like an echo from the deep, it had. The fate of Lunaria and the light would again be tested, and again it was time to call upon the greatest champion of his world, the one known by all as the Dreamer.