1 The Moonlight Garden

The night air was cool and calm, stars hanging in the sky like a chandler. The moon was bright and brilliant, so close you could almost touch it. The light filtered through a forest shrouded in nothing but darkness. The shadows curled and reach out for anything soft, anything pure, anything brighter than the wretched existence they were.

Within the deep darkness of this forest was a path made up from the soft glow of moonstones. The warm blue lights made a path to a sanctuary in the night, a home for the lost and weary souls who were only ready to depart from the world. The glass walls of the garden fenced in by silver curling into art protected all who enter.

"Save her please," a voice trembled in the night. Blood coated her sweat covered hands, red stains sticking on the cloth like glue. She leaned her body against a tree to keeps herself up, keep herself awake. The world was growing ever colder, ever lonelier. One arm tightly tucked around her child, the other reaching past her, and towards a warm glow, her desperation made her arm tremble and fingers ache.

"My only daughter, please," her voice waned, losing strength. Darker, darker yet the world grew. Sleep was a wonderful reprieve.

A pale hand touched the fading woman's own, as a voice softly spoke, "Rest, she is in safe hands."

Tears fell from the woman's eyes, a smile gracing her face as her light vanished from the world, cradling a child in her now lifeless arms.

***

There once was a tale of a lonely knight who lived only for the king he served. He vowed to protect the country from ruin at all costs, vowed to serve until his death. Yet the knight couldn't rest. Long after the kingdom vanished, he remained, protecting the one place his master loved.

A garden, humming with blooms of magnolias, daisies, and roses. Hydrangeas and vining ivy-coated the cornered of the small sanctuary.

It was this beauty he sought to protect, and even as the forest grew tangled and dark, he would only ever shower warmth upon those who arrived, providing those who came with the same warmth his king had given to him.

Yet it was that warmth he could never provide. He lived in solitude in his sanctuary, his skin now pale, white and cold. His body never hungered, never ached, never yearned. In the passing years, he only became more inhumane.

It was just another night when he received the first blessing, though tragedy struck in the same moment. The girl was at least 6, maybe older. She lost her mother, though he wouldn't pry in the matter so long as his garden was safe.

He gave the women a burial in a bed of marigold and daisies, and softly spoke a prayer for her safe passage to her next life.

The night faded into the next day, and the next, and the next.

***

The first day passed in silence. The second as well. A week passed, and the knight had yet to know her name.

She ate without a fight, and for the rest of the day, she sat on a bench in the middle of the garden like a doll. Her dress was slowly wearing out, yet she remained still. Tears wouldn't come, not yet.

The knight was always close, nearby to make sure she was cared for. He knew she wasn't acting normal, even after all his years of solitude, but he had no idea what to do. He never cared for a child before.

The stoic nature of the knight directly clashed with the silence of the girl, and eventually, he caved.

He walked up to the girl, though with all the awkwardness of a love confession between two introverts. Yet this was no confession, rather, a proposal.

"Come we me," he looked down at her, extending his hand so she could grab it. He didn't expect much, yet her lack of response to his words was worrying. Almost frustrating. A few seconds passed in silence, her eyes on her lap as if she hadn't heard him speak.

Of course, he could wait for her; he waited in the loneliness of this garden for many years before without an issue. But the look she carried screamed hopelessness, screamed at him to do something. She couldn't mourn forever-- she was still too young for that.

He lowered his extended, stepping in front of her, scooping her into his arms. The first sound she left out since she arrived, a small squeak from being lifted, fell from her mouth as she was uprooted from her thoughts.

"Please," she stumbled on her words, "Please, down, down."

The pale knight shook his head. "We are going outside unless you want to walk."

"I'll walk, please," she cried, squirming a bit in his grasp, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

The knight frowned at her apology. She had no need to do so, yet she acted as if she were being punished. He slowly lowered her so she could stand on her own, her hands balled into fits where she grabbed her skirt.

"Don't be sorry," he looked directly at her, voice firm, "Just come along. I want to show you something."

It was certainly better to be expressive than not, though her face was scrunched up in a vague frustration that he couldn't exactly place. He left out a soft sigh, extending his hand to her once more.

She took his hand slowly, tentatively. She truly didn't want to be carried again, so going along with him was her only choice.

The garden really was beautiful. If she wasn't so busy missing her mother, she would've loved to have played in the flowers, creating flower crowns and filling baskets with the blooms to press and dry. The time of such idle joy was in the past now. Her mother was gone, and it was all her fault. She didn't listen to mom. She didn't listen and because of that mom left her.

The to stopped in front of a patch of marigold and daisies, the white and yellow petals swaying in the faint breeze passing through the woods.

The knight stared at the bed of flowers, speaking as if no one specific was listening.

"She asked me to save you." he paused, reaching into a sleeve, pulling something out. It was a red ribbon, the name Eris embroidered with yellow thread.

"She wanted you to have this, and I'm sure she wanted you to be happy," he turned to the girl, kneeling so she could take a hold of the keepsake.

She stared wide-eyed at the knight, uncertain of what to do. Tears hadn't come yet, but his prodding finally broke the dam. Tears spilled from her eyes as she gripped the ribbon in her small hands. Her arms curled into herself.

"I'm," she hiccuped, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

He wasn't sure what to do at first, children rearing really wasn't his forte. He was a military man through and through. Yet he held the girl close, hugging her though he knew he was not warm enough to comfort. He was not human enough, just another ghost in the world

Not knowing what to say, not ever being sure, he let the girl cry until she no longer needed to.

***

The night returned by the time the girl opened her eyes again. He was nearby, standing next to the bench she lay on, gazing beyond the garden and at the moon. It's light blanked the garden with pale blue, vibrant enough to touch.

Though she was still young, the faint aura of loss clung to his form. He was caring for her all this time, yet all she did was burden him, just as she had burdened her mother. A burning feeling sat in her core. Perhaps her silence was supposed to break.

Sitting up, she remained quiet momentarily as to not disturb his thoughts, though the still air made her want to squirm and escape.

"Uhm," she mustered.

He turned, though he was relaxed as he did so, as if he had been waiting for her to speak for quite some time now. Yet he only gave his gaze as a response to her.

"Ah," she felt her face flush, mostly in embarrassment.

"I'mEristhankyoufortakingcareofme."

The knight blinked, needing a moment to process the words that tumbled from her mouth. Yet as soon as he interprets her words, the corners of his mouth curved into a slight smile.

"I am Theodore, and the pleasure is all mine."