Storymania - Lavender Moon by Diana Thompson

Lavender Moon
Diana Thompson

The darkness of the night is absolute, broken only Intermittently by the light of the full moon, as the clouds part briefly. The creaking of bull frogs from the swamp near by, and the shriek of an owl, as it zero's in on it's supper. Are the only sounds that fill the night?

The trees cast their ghostly shadows, looking like creatures from some long forgotten horror movie. Swags of Spanish moss hang like hair upon the shoulders of trees, there arms gnarled and tangled, thrown out as if to ward off the night.

Silently he walks though the forest of time, each step carefully measured. Trying to keep his presence unknown by any, who would seek him out. Whether they are friend or foe, he wants to keep his presence unknown from all except one.

On softly padded feet, not a sound, does he make, as he walks along, waiting always waiting. Suddenly he stops, and looks around his head cocked to one side, his ears intent, alert to any hint of danger. His nose is high sniffing the wind, trying to find the ever allusive scent, that has kept him intrigued, his senses aroused. And a terrible hunger inside him, trying to find the prey that will relieve it.

His magnificent body glistens in the moon light, the muscle's ripple, with his every movement, under skin that is covered with soft gleaming fur, he looks almost bronze in the dim light of the moon, as if he were cast from that very same metal.

As the night covers him, he stops suddenly again, as a twig cracks beneath his feet. Ever alert to possible danger. So intent is he that his eyes gleam gold green in the waning light.

Quietly now, like he is seeking his prey, but prey and his next meal, is not what is on his mind this night. He is after more enticing prey, much more important prey, than just his next meal.

What does he seek this night of all nights? This night of strange sounds and damp places.

This night of strange urging, and a full moon, that dashes in and out of its hiding place, behind wispy clouds.

What makes his blood run hot this night? The primeval longing is upon him, the ever present hunger of something, he knows not what, but it eats at his strength. It drives him ever onward, toward something, toward his destiny.

He has caught the scent of it upon the wind, and seen shadows out of the corner of his eye, just out of his reach. That ever allusive some thing, that his wild, hot blood senses he must have to survive.

But what is it he seeks, what drives him forward, alert, the blood pounding in his head, and in parts of him, he has never thought of before?

He looks down into the water below him, and at the distant mountains, then up into the sky. The moon has taken on an unearthly cast; it glows with life of its own. The shadows it makes, as its shimmering light floats to earth... makes him look twice... is his mind playing tricks? What is it that haunts the recesses of his minds eye... just out of his reach.

Then in the dawn of and instant... his vision clears... and there in the mists of the water below... a face... the face of a woman... it floats on the water... And her hair curls and shimmers on the water surface... made in hues of purple... by the glowing lavender moon.

My dear God, those eyes... they gleam in the light of the moon. Eyes of emerald... with embers of gold... they see right to the soul of his being. He heart tells him that he has seen these eyes before, but where? To his knowledge he has never seen a human, much less the female of the species.

But the persistent feeling that this woman, that he has known this woman, really known her, in every sense of the word. Makes him wonder, and the electricity of it flows though his body. Flashes of memory haunt him, floating just out of reach.

How is this possible, to know this woman, this illusion that floats on the purple waters of a moonlit sea. He roars his anger, at not being able to latch on to the memory.

His frustration is great, made worse by the hunger... the hunger that drives him this night.

He seeks his mate, the other half of the whole; it is life's ever-present answer to the survival of each species. The urge to find a mate, to consummate. It is their reason for living; to produce heirs, to this vast kingdom of time. So that time will go on eternally, and that the species will survive.

Then out of the mists of his mind... and out of the shadows of memory with his pulsing heart... comes the answers that he seeks. Long forgotten memories of the time when he was a Man.

How can that be? His mind is asking the question even as his heart tells him the answer.

His memory of the long distant past when this woman of the mists... of the purple misty waters... was his. His heart soars as he remembers the love that they had shared. A mighty roar escapes him, as he remembers the pain, the pain of betrayal. The pain of the curse placed on him, by the evil Lord of the Mists, because he refused the hand of his daughter.

The curse placed not only on him, but also on this woman... this woman of the green eyes and purple mists, because she dared to love him. His lady, his Kiana, his soul, his heart, his reason for living.

The curse: "That he should always live as a shadow of the night, a beast of hair and eater of raw flesh." While she his Lady Kiana should be embedded into the waters of the misty purple sea before him... though no fault of her own, her only sin... loving him. To float upon the water for an eternity.

"Kiana! Kiana!" his mind and soul cry out her name. His heart feels as if it has been ripped from his body, as the memories rain down upon him. Now he remembers the terrible details of lives lived apart, endless lives; that return in full color, with all the pain of each life, etched upon his memory, and upon his heart.

How long dear Lord how long must he endure the pain of separation from his beloved? His only crime; loving her, his lady, his Kiana.

Now as he looks upon her image afloat upon the waters of the sea below, he hears a voice softly, gently float across his ears, like a small caress.

"It is time, my love!" Time? What does this mean he thinks to him self, then his soul remembers, but he shivers, and the fear is a tangible thing around him. He cannot, he can not do what she asks.

He has faced this fear before, many times, but tonight as the memories flood his mind. He realizes that; this time it is different, this time, from somewhere deep within his body. Comes the courage, as if placed there by foreign hands.

He looks up into the lavender moon, and sees the sign, the sign of his release from the curse that has been placed upon him, and his lady of the purple mists. How had he not seen it before? His mind wonders, even as his heart sings, because tonight the curse will be lifted.

He remembers the curse: "Until the moon rides full in the sky, and glows with lavender and pink, and the paw prints of the shadow beast, make their mark upon its face. You and the Lady shall be separated by not only time, but by species."

The voice of his beloved is becoming stronger now, and something is happening to his body. The fur so sleek and gleaming of ebony is changing. His man form is coming back to him, and then out of the purple mists, he sees a shadowy form emerge...

His lady, his Kiana, is standing but a hairs breathe away... her arms unfurled... waiting.... Her beautiful face forgotten for many lifetimes... remembered as if it were only yesterday.

Slowly he walks into them... and takes her face in his hands... and lowers his lips to hers... and as they touch..."Peace" ... Descend upon them, and they are "One", once more.