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The Moonstone
by Callista Z. Maris
Chapter One
The fire crackled loudly, the flames rose high in the air. Thirteen figures danced around the bonfire; thirteen women clad in white gowns of pure callis thread singing in their ancient ceremonial tongue. Men and women of all ages were gathered around in warm Autumn air watching, singing, praying. It was the Callinacta, the celebration to honor Caillen, the god of the moon, performed under the first full moons of Autumn and Spring. Caillen was the holiest of the Cliotian gods, even more so than the sun Clio for whom the land was named, and his ceremony was one of the most ancient of Cliotian ceremonies and was considered the most sacred of all. But this year the celebration meant more. Winter was not far off and there were already shortages due to the war. All the townspeople, from the youngest children to the oldest grandparents, were there praying for a bountiful harvest to pull them through the hard times ahead.
More wood was thrown onto the fire as the music sped up. Children who had never before seen the ritual watched the dance and listened to the singers' words with avid fascination.
.shaklar Caillen domera a se
.catala moren renalpa ke
.cha bonlakal tu jen redah
.du jana Callista comsa lah
As she watched, the young girl translated the song in her head.
.our lord Caillen rules over all the sky
.his silver light shines unendingly through the night
.and we shall all be saved by his glory
.when the Moonstone is born to us.
The Moonstone, Celina thought. A thing of such incredible power it could control anything from the weather to a person's mind. She always thought it was funny that they said "when the Moonstone is born to us." How could a stone be born? Celina didn't know, but it didn't matter.
No one really knew much about it. Was it a sparkly jewel or some kind of statue? Maybe just a small white stone similar to the one she wore around her neck (it was a white Qera crystal tied onto a leather cord--she had worn it all her life). Celina had always wanted to know. And one day she would. The prophecies about the Moonstone told that one day it would change the world. The war with the outsiders, the Jalosians, would end and peace would be restored. She wanted more than anything to be the one that found the Moonstone brought peace to her land. She grinned with a childish excitement as she thought about that day. She would be famous! Remembered throughout time as the one who solved Cliotia's greatest mystery and saved her people! Suddenly she realized she was giggling out loud and quickly shut her mouth though no one had even looked at her. They were all concentrating on the dance. Celina got serious and looked around at them. She saw old Janabel, the dress-maker, praying and crying for her son who was reported missing in battle two days before. Jessan. Celina remembered him. Tall, strong, handsome. He had been the horseshoer's apprentice until the army recruiters came through demanding all young single men 14 to 30 to join up.
The younger ones were used to hold horses during battle, deliver fresh arrows to archers, and carry messages between commanders. The older ones though, like Jessan, were sent into battle. Some men always tried to get married young so the recruiters couldn't take them, but they moved so fast from village to village there was almost never enough warning. Jessan had really intended to marry the horseshoer's daughter Falani but had never gotten the chance. She was there at the festival too, standing beside Janabel, crying with her.
Some of the other children her age wished they could be 14 so they could go with the army and fight and kill. Celina had no wish to kill. She had seen death. She saw the horseshoer carrying home his dead son Alkan, burying him, crying over his grave. She knew that war was a terrible thing where people died. She had no wish to be part of it. She would get revenge for her people in a different way, a better way that didn't cost any more lives. She would find the Moonstone and change everything! She would change the world! She'd the Heroine! the Peacemaker! didn't sound right , Celina Cool anyway. They'd probably give her a medal, maybe even a horse of her own! A big, tall, golden horse with a silver mane and tail and silver hooves. She'd name him Hero and as she mounted him, they'd all be calling her name! Celina! Celina!
"Celina!! Wake up child!" Jananbel's voice broke her out of her reverie.
"I'm sorry ma'am, I was just daydreaming."
"Well the festival is over luv, it's very late, you need to be getting on home. I'll walk ya there."
"No thanks Jan. I'm old enough to go on my own now."
"Are ya sure luv? Thems woods is mighty dangerous at night, 'specially if you stray from the path."
"I'll be all right trust me. I can follow the path blindfolded," Celina said with a touch of childish pride.
" right luv, but mind yer footin' around the Kamala trees, and don't go daydreamin' and wanderin' off the path, now. Go straight home. And Caillen be with ya lass."
"I will and thank you Jan! Goodnight!"
With that, she set off through the Corialis Woods skipping along the path, humming the dancers' song and thinking of what other kinds of honors the people would bestow on her. Her own hunting bow and dogs, a stable of horses, a they would even make her Queen of all Cliotia! She would rule over all the land with the same genius she used to stop the war! This time it took tripping over a Kamala Tree root to wake her up. She giggled and dusted herself off.
As she finally neared her home in the forest clearing, she thought of the warm bread her mother would be baking for her. But just as she thought of it, this strange feeling came over her.a feeling of danger, of pain, of warning. It frightened her and she took off running straight towards her house. When she reached the heavy brush that surrounded the clearing, she could see several figures. Six men on horses outside her house talking to her mother. She seemed rather frightened. If those men were trying to hurt her mother--
One got down off his horse and walked toward her mother. Celina creeped up as close as she could without being seen behind the brush.
"For the last time, where is she!!!" the warrior demanded impatiently. He was now trying to trap her mother against the house. He was much taller than her, covered in body armor with a large, thick sword at his side. His hair was long, dark, and very dirty, and the sides were put up in small braids. He glared at Celina's mother with absolute fury in his eyes. She was merely an old woman, barely half his size. Celina could tell she was scared but she did not back down. As she watched, Celina's heroic side wanted to jump out of the bush and rush at the warriors and frighten them away. That would teach them to mess with people's mothers!
The old woman was obviously terrified but she just glared at the warrior with a mixture of fear, courage, and determination in her face and replied, "For the last time, she is not here."
The warrior was angered immensely by this. His face was filled with a deep rage. He started to turn around and head back to his horse, but then he pulled out his sword and drove through the old woman's chest. The old woman screamed in pain.
Celina wanted to scream but managed to cover her mouth with her hand at the last second. He killed her. The warrior had killed her mother! Her eyes began to fill up with hot, angry tears, her heart burned with rage. She forced herself to keep silent behind the bush.
"Burn it!" the warrior yelled to his companions who immediately set torches and lit Celina's house in flames. As the warrior mounted his horse, Celina saw on his bloody sword a small symbol. The Jalosian symbol. They were Jalosian warriors.
"Come on, she must be in the nearby village. We'll find her!" the warrior shouted as the men rode off into the forest in the direction Celina had just come from.
She waited until they were gone and ran up to where her mother lay on the ground in a pool of her own blood. She took her up in her arms and noticed then that she was still breathing! Her mother was still alive! She cradled the old woman in her arms, tears running all over her face.
"Mommy! Speak to me!" she whimpered.
Her mother looked up at her weakly, obviously in great pain.
"C-Callista." she mumbled.
"The Moonstone? What about the Moonstone! Mommy!" she cried desparately.
But it was too late. Her mother's head slumped in her arms. She was dead. Celina screamed up into the sky and began crying very loudly. She held her mother's head in her arms, rocking back and forth, wailing loudly, her hands covered in her mother's blood.
* * * * * * * * * * *
The moon was gone. The earliest light of morning began to color the sky. Celina stood over the freshly made grave, her eyes red and puffy from crying all night, her face full of grief, fatigue, and red-hot anger. She had buried her mother right next to their house--now just a pile of black ash and smoking cinders. The grave was almost identical to the one she'd seen the horseshoer make for his son. Rocks below, dirt above covering all, and a large stone with the words "a little girl's mother" carved into it at the head. She'd stayed awake all night mourning and preparing the grave. She kissed her hand and touched the grave where her mother's head was, gathered a few nearby edible mushrooms and headed toward the village.
She didn't know what to do now. Who would take care of her? This wasn't exactly a country where a twelve-year-old girl could easily make it on her own. Maybe Janabel could take her in, she'd be willing. She and Celina were good friends. And when she grew up and was old enough to fight, she'd get revenge on the Jalosians. She had burned the warrior's face into her mind and would spend the rest of her life finding him. And when she would kill him. That's all she cared about now. She would kill him. Whoever he was, wherever he was, she would find him and make him pay for killing her mother and burning her house and destroying her life! Her rage built up again. She screamed into the sky in anger and collapsed against a tree crying loudly. Yes, she would kill him and his friends and all those other evil Jalosians for this!
She got up and ran toward the village. The warriors said they were going there. Maybe they were still there. She could get her revenge right now! She would take the warrior's sword stained with her mother's blood and drive it into him the way he drove it into her!
She ran all the way into the village, her rage driving her straight on. She burst through the bushes and--
The village.
It had been destroyed. All the houses were on fire, some already turned into piles of ash. Bodies lay everywhere in pools of blood. They were all dead. The warriors had come here and killed everyone like they killed her mother.
Celina ran to Janabel's house. It was fully inflamed and almost gone. Outside what was once Janabel's hut, the kindly old woman lay on the ground, her face and chest covered in blood, still alive. When she saw Celina, her eyes went wide. She struggled to speak, desparate to get out a few last words.
"L-Leave. C-Celina. .they'll be back. Run to .they're looking ." Jan's eyes rolled back and she slumped to the ground. She was dead.
Celina's anger welled up in her chest again and her tears came back full force. But Jan's words had thrown her off. "They're looking for you," she had said. Celina thought back to the previous night. The warrior had said to her mother, "Where is she?" He was talking about her! That's why the warrior had killed her mother, he was looking for Celina! What could he possibly want with her? Celina didn't know anything anymore. She had no family, no friends, no home. There was nowhere for her to go, except the mountains like Jan suggested. Or she could follow the warriors and get her revenge.
She found the trail of hoove prints left by the warriors' horses and followed it out of town.
