The Hidden Moon

There was death waiting for him. In a cold, haughty embrace that terrorized Urloc to his core. Nervous beads of sweat rolled down the side of his face and he closed his eyes to try to steel his nerves, but her vengeful cackle filled his mind and his eyes shot open in a ripe panic. White streams of moonlight cast through the window in front of him. The light shone as if it were a sun but with no warmth, no heart no soul. Instead, it was but a reflection. A hollow, fathomless well where there was no joy, no empathy...only misery. 

A misery that he himself had created. Oh, how he had adored his lovely wife Bibiane. So much so that he would do anything for her even the unthinkable. And so, using all of his knowledge and power he had given her this gift. A token of his love that she had begged and needled him for from the moment they had met. A transformation that she had yearned for since her tender years on her homeworld of Vilassar. There her family had educated her and poisoned her mind that the one true thing, the only thing that meant anything to them and to all Vilassarans was the Ritus des Aetate or the Rites of Age.  

To Urloc it was all rather unseemly. A whole population dedicated to raising their children with the hopes and dreams of sacrificing them to be converted to vampires. All so that they could continue to live in an unsteady peace on their remote planet. Urloc sighed. As barbaric as it appeared he had no right to judge. His own race, the minotaurs, had their own rather eccentric beliefs. But Bibiane hadn’t been chosen to represent the Vilassarans when she had come of age and had spent the better part of her life since trying to find the means to restore her and her families honor. And the search had led her to him.  

Rash, impulsive and prone to rather naïve romantic sentiment that he learned, too late, Bibiane had exploited for her own twisted ends. It was no happenstance their meeting. No rare twist of fate or seredipity as she had led him to believe. No. It had been a calculated plot on her part to engage him, spin about her web of deciet until she had aquired her triumph. 

Once the dye was cast Urloc realized the terrible mistake he had made in trusting Bibiane and he sought to undo her rebirth as the vampire queen witch now known as Clarixa. When all attempts failed he came back to her and promised her more. He could make her a goddess if she would just allow him to complete the transformation. A lie? No, because Urloc felt he was incapable of the trickery she had deployed. Instead, it was a means to and end. 

He had set the lure and now all he needed was to pull her in. Slowly, delicately he strung her along. Moving from place to place making pitiful excuses for why as he searched out the key elements required to complete the trap he would set. So blinded was she by the hunt that it was easier then he had anticipated. It was, to Urloc, sadly the happiest he had seen her since they had first met. 

The final piece was to get her to a place that no one would ever find her nor happen to stumble upon. Kromantzar was such a place. A lifeless husk of a planet. A solemn rock that drifted at the edge of a black hole far from prying eyes and quite well off the face of all known existence. Cold, harsh and barren it was riven by death, haunted by ghastly spirits and lost souls. And soon, too soon for his own liking, he would be one of them. 

Getting here had proved a minor inconveince. The home in which he now sat he had said was his final gift to her. A house that he had dreamed they would share together as a family. But it was all a charade. He had constructed the house as a teleportation device aligned with both of their DNA signatures that once they entered it would transport them immediately to Kromantzar. 

Initially she had wanted to kill him for his treachery until he explained that this was her world to rule. And then she had left. Off to explore the hinter regions of this foul planet. Perhaps one of it’s native creatures would save him the trouble of finishing this rather tasteless act? Or perhaps she had simple disappered? Left and found some form of escape. Escape from the madness. Freedom from the coils that now bound her body and mind. He shuddered again as the clock ground down the last chime and the echo of her laugh, faint as it was, pierced the solemn night. 

No, not gone. What pleasure could she derive from this, he wondered? This madness. This abominable creation. 

It was a question he had asked himself much of late and it all came back to the same answer; vanity. She sought that which she was not given but felt she rightly deserved. Urloc shook his head. He couldn’t and would never understand. 

He rose from the chair and edged forward, inch by mercifully inch until the tips of his loafers bordered the rectangular outline of the moonlight cast by the window frame. She was out there. He knew it. Hidden amongst the brambles and rotted trees. Waiting, watching. There was no recourse. No act or deed he could do to change this tragic course of events. 

This was his lot in life. It was theirs. To find that which they hold so dear, so close that it slipped through their tender fingers like tendrils of water. And now, it had to be done. A grandfather clock thundered in the hour. Each chime caused him to shudder. His throat felt raw and dry. There was a time, briefly, that he thought they could go on. That the events could be ignored. Stuffed away in a box, shoved under the bed to gather dust and be forgotten.  

But she wasn’t going to let him stop. She wasn’t going to stop. It was too much to hope for. His hand went inside his jacket pocket, and he removed a small cylinder no larger than a pencil. He bit his lip and set his jaw as he made his way to the window. Hesitantly he peered around the edge hoping, praying not to see her. 

There was no reasoning with her. No fact or thought that could force her to understand. He turned away from the window and strode resolutely to the door. As he reached for the handle he hesitated. His hand shook so uncontrollably that he pulled it back and held it firm against his chest. 

He had to do it. There was no one else. Haltingly he extended his arm again and grasped the door handle. He then flung open the door causing a roar of wind to exit the house and buffet against his back. He glanced up at the moon as thin fingers of dark clouds slowly hid it from sight and he understood. There was a simpleness to it. A clean subtly that he hadn’t noticed before. The front door to the house slammed shut behind him and he spun about sharply. Losing his balance, he fell off the porch and sprawled onto the ground. There she stood. Even in her torn dress, tousled hair, and a wicked snarl on her face she was magnificent and regal as ever.  

“Bibiane?” Urloc asked hopefully. 

Her face relaxed briefly with a vague look that filled Urloc with hope. A hope that was quickly dashed as a vicious smile curled her soft lips. 

No, Not Bibiane.  

“Clarixa,” Urloc said with icy disdain. 

“You sound disappointed my dear Urloc. Was it not you who wanted us to come here. Was it not you who sought to endow me with these wonderful powers?” Each word Clarixa spoke caused Urloc to wince as if he were getting whipped across the face. 

“I didn’t know, didn’t realize,” Urloc said croakily. 

“Realize what, exactly? Oh you knew my sweet,” said Clarixa waspishly as she took a step forward causing Urloc to slide backwards. 

“But you did it anyway. The challenge, the test of minds is your soft temptation. Is that not why you are called Urloc the Unwise? Surely not for your grasp of the practical, avoidable and easily resisted.” 

“You know I hate that title,” Urloc muttered. 

“But it is so suited for you. Don’t you disagree? Should I recount for you the endless ways in which you have earned such a nuanced standing?” 

Urloc shook his head. 

“No? Then show me why you brought me here,” she demanded. As she stalked forward the wood on the front stoop creaked mournfully. 

He had to distract her, but how. His mind, caught up in the throes of knowing his death was soon to come had grinded down to a halt and refused to work! What could he do, what? Urloc glanced nervously back at the house.  

“Is it in there?” Clarixa asked motioning behind her. “Curious, why you would leave something so valuable in the place that brought us here when I could have discovered it at any moment.” 

“It, it wouldn’t work until we were here. At this place. You see the time displacement...,” said Urloc quickly. 

“Yes, yes, yes! I could never stand your pointless blatherings and even less so now.” 

“I thought that was the one thing you cherished about me,” Urloc said in voice faint and tiny. 

“I lied,” Clarixa said casually and she turned to go into the house. 

“There’s, there is just one last thing needed to complete the rite of passage,” Urloc said as he unsteadily got to his feet. 

“And that is?” 

“This,” Urloc said holding out his hand. 

Clarixa looked down at the glass cylinder in Urloc’s hand.  

“It’s to ensure that completion of the passage is painless.” 

“How very thoughtful of you my dear. Considerate even to the end,” Clarixa said as she reached out to caress Urloc’s cheek. Urloc closed his eyes as a tear made it’s way down his cheek. 

“Oh, come now Urloc. Now is not the time for sentimentality. Now, have it here!” Clarixa said icily and she snatched the cylinder from Urloc’s hand. 

As she did a radiant glow erupted from the cylinder. Urloc turned away to look at the moon as the clouds parted and thin rays of light turned golden struck out across the plain and stabbed into Clarixa. 

“What, what is happening? Urloc?” Clarixa shrilled. 

Bands of crackling golden and cobalt light wrapped around Clarixa steadily pulling her into the cylinder. 

“While you are correct that I may have duely earned the title of the Unwise I’m sure you would agree that it lacks applicablity in this particular moment,” Urloc said dryly as, in a moment, the brightness receded and the cylinder fell softly into his hand. 

“I didn’t care who you were, or what you did my Bibiane. As long as you loved me,” he said gently at the cylinder as golden light flashed angrily and burned against the glass. 

“But there is no love in you Clarixa. Only hate, anger and rage. A pestilence that I cannot allow to continue.” 

Urloc placed the cylinder into his inside jacket pocket and stepped onto the porch. 

The grey clouds above slowly parted again revealing a shimmering pale moon. A howl erupted and a chorus of eager grumblings of the evil that riled the planet began to stir anew. 

“And so, here we shall be, together, for all etnernity my love. Never to be parted,” Urloc vowed as he stepped inside the house and the door swung soundly shut behind him.