A winter night

The moon was full and high in the dark sky dotted with diamond stars, while nature was covered in a white sheet with a surface varying in height. Trees deprived of their leafy garb and fruit jewels were painted by the snowflakes falling from the sky, exposing green aurora borealis, a sign that she was missing spring. Beneath this spectacle, near an architecturally artistic temple dedicated to Varanita, the goddess of the moon, a battle was taking place. It was a sacrilege, but a necessary one, for it would decide the future of the kingdom.

His fist slammed into the face of his enemy, who had made the mistake of not wearing a helmet covering his face. The man stumbled and saw his death coming when his executioner plunged his sword into his throat, letting out a guttural noise. Suddenly, a soldier warned him.

-Anéon ! Their forces are weakening !

Anéon, the man with the black and white beard and short black hair, looked at the battle scene and indeed noticed that their opponents were outnumbered.

-Keep pushing ! They must not penetrate the gates of this temple !

-Yes ! The spirit of his little battalion reignited.

They were outnumbered nine to twelve, but they were winning. Beside them lay the bodies of a number of men who had died for a cause. Anéon fought on, despite his wounds, despite his tiredness, despite his shattered armor and despite the death of his comrades. After the final duels, the battle ended in victory for Anéon's group, but the price was high. Among the thirty soldiers who had defended the temple, only five had survived.

-Captain. Said one of the exhausted soldiers. What shall we do?

-We've got to get back to the princess.

He said in a calm voice.

Just as the five warriors were about to head back inside the temple, something suddenly happened. A voice could be heard, a gentle humming emanating from within the sanctuary, carried by the winds, dancing with the snowflakes. Anéon and his men were soon alerted, and to make matters worse, two figures emerged from the shadows of the trees. Two hooded men armed with crossbows fired at two of the five standing knights, killing two of them instantly. The shock was great, and it wasn't long before the other two combatants, raising their swords, said the following words to their leader.

-Go to the princess, Captain! We'll hold them off !

He didn't hesitate, even though he didn't like the idea, he felt like he was abandoning these souls to death. He rushed to the temple's large entrance door and rushed inside as if a monster were threatening to devour him. He heard in the meantime his last two campanions letting out their last screams.

From now on he was alone, this melodious humming was persisting, between those walls the sound was echoing louder and louder. Sword in hand, he ran toward the main hall and enter with haste. He saw at the feet of the goddess Varanita's statue a woman. She had long dark hair that contrasted with her clothes which was almost white and the furr grey around her neck and on her shoulders. in her arms, the young woman with an sweet and innocent face was holding a baby, a little girl who seemed charmed by the harmonious voice of the one who was showing her affection. Anéon wanted to open his mouth to speak but as soon as she laid her amethyst eyes on him, he found himself to be mute and was hit by a pain so biting that he fell on his knees.

The woman was still humming, the baby was now in a deep slumber, while from behind the captain, by the path he had taken, six people made their entrance. Like the woman seated in front of the goddess's statue, they were clad in long white coats with gray fur. Ignoring the man, they approached the empty cradle in the middle of the moon worship area and formed an almost circular shape around it. Their faces were those of men and women as cold as this winter, not a trace of joy or anger, only coldness. Another person came out of the inner door of the hall, the one that led to the rest of the temple.

The man wore the same garb as his companions, with the difference that he wore a blue cape over his shoulder, and the moonlight coming from the ceiling gave him a special aura, as it had for the young woman before who had risen with the baby in her arms and joined the six lined up on either side of the cradle, three on the right, four on the left. The leader of this group placed himself in front of the goddess's statue and looked indifferently at the captain, still on his knees and mute. He could see the struggle he was waging to move the slightest muscle, which could be heard in his muffled whimpers.

-We thank you Captain Anéon, with your heroic actions the kingdom of Elda has a chance to rise again, to erase its fault and to be protected.

The captain tried to speak, but to no avail, he struggled, but still to no avail.

-I, Regidal, commander of the Stars of Dawn, declare that Princess Belda is now safe. May Varanita bless us and guide us to victory.

He declared in a solemn voice.

The old captain fell to the ground and began to see dimly, his vital forces was leaving him and his life was only hanging by a thread.

-Sleep Anéon, let death take you in its arms and carry you off to its kingdom. We, the guardians of Belda, will watch over the kingdom. Body and soul, we sacrifice our lives.

He punctuated with peace in his mind and cold determination in his green eyes.

The soul of the old captain soon left him after hearing the last word, it was over. The woman holding the baby placed her in the cradle and stepped back. Then, in a gesture of perfect harmony, the eight person each joined hands, closed their eyes, bowed their heads and said in chorus, prayer-like, these words.

-Glory to Varanita, glory to the kingdom of Elda, glory to Belda.

And so, on this winter's night, on this night tainted by blood, the fate of this land was sealed. Under the northern lights, the stars and constellations, under the white eyes of the moon, the war had begun.